Update on Coraline's baby brother Archer, and momma.
At my specialist's recommendation, about 2 weeks ago I had eighteen (YES EIGHTEEN) vials of blood drawn for a Thrombophilia panel of tests. These tests are basically to determine if I'm at a higher risk of clots/thrombosis and if I need to be on preventative medication.
To make a painfully long story short - yes, I am, and yes, I do.
My tests came back with something called lupus anticoagulant, which is deceiving in name. It's not lupus, but more specifically antiphospholipid syndrome. Basically, an autoimmune hypercoaguable state caused by antibodies in my blood. Also referred to as "sticky blood", this syndrome means I'm at a higher risk for potentially harmful blood clots, deep vein thrombosis, and the conditions that branch off from those anomalies including pulmonary embolism and stroke.
This hit me like a blow to my already engorged stomach. First, I'm a relatively healthy 32-year-old non-smoking, non-drinking female who, until Coraline's stillbirth, had never experienced a major medical complication or procedure. Who would have thought I'd have to be on blood thinners before I hit 40, and while pregnant to boot?
Second, and what I explained to the nurse as I'm nearly in tears again in her office - it took me a year to come to terms with what happened to Coraline. A full year to accept that she died due to a cord accident and nothing I carried or did. Almost a year including hospitalization for a psychic break, and all the stress I put my poor husband through, just to overcome the guilt and be willing to try again for another baby. And now this - this gives a new reason. This means that Coraline may have died because something was wrong with my body, something went undetected and caused a clot and she perished because of it.
To say I feel betrayed by my body is an understatement, yet nothing seems to appropriately fit the moment. I had my ugly cry in the lobby, wiped my blue eyeliner on my sleeve (which now needs to be washed) and walked to half a block to the docs office to be tested. After just hearing the words "lupus" on the phone, I was a wreck - once I was able to go over the results and what they meant with the doc, a few things became more clear:
1. No, there was no way of telling I had this condition without testing, and there was no reason to test until I had a major event that dictated it may be a factor (such as a stroke or stillbirth).
2. The only thing that changes for me from here on out is having to give myself daily injections of heparin, a blood thinner. Yes, daily. Yes, like, with a needle. Yes it sucks, but having a blood clot cause a stroke would suck more.
3. There is no risk to Archer as long as I take the necessary preventative measures - the medication doesn't cross the placenta and there are no side effects to him.
Is it a change? Yes, but I've adapted before - I'll adapt again. Already I've joined an online support forum for Lovenox-takers, ordered a med id bracelet indicating I'm on a blood thinner, and my fabulous husband filled my scrip, got me alcohol swabs and a sharps container, and even scrubbed out the tub so I could take a nice relaxing bath when I get home from work. Because he's the best. He didn't bat an eye when I called him this morning, just drove up to meet me and was able to see our baby on the ultrasound again, an added bonus.
And Archer is perfect - right on track as far as growth, healthy and active and flourishing. Honestly if they told me I had to come in daily to have my appendages gnawed on by the hideous bugblatter beast of Traal while listening to Kenny G's greatest Michael Bay soundtrack covers, my only question would be "what time?" Because it's all worth it to make sure Archer gets here safely, and that I'm able to be healthy and around to take care of him, and Parker, and Matt.
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