Pregnancy Story: Part 3 of 3

Part one of this email series.
Part two.

And here is part three, which I am anticipating is the last part:

I started this by telling you about a hemorrhoid reduction procedure I had during my pregnancy with Calder known as sclerotherapy. I actually had this same procedure done when Eldon was about 6 months old, and Eldon had a negative reaction to it through my breastmilk, despite the supposed non-systemic effects.

I was 30 weeks pregnant when I opted to do sclerotherapy again; my right SI joint had persistent pain after my hemorrhoids thrombosed (they'd previously reduced after the sclerotherapy, then returned when my second pregnancy brought with it some constipation; they originally showed up when I was about 10 years old), and as a likely result of the pain and inflammation in my pelvis, my baby was breech.

Granted, he had plenty of time to turn himself around, but I was planning a home birth in North Carolina, which would not have happened if my baby wasn't head down. Plus, the idea of giving birth while already in pain was not enticing. I opted for the procedure, and it worked. The hemorrhoids calmed down, my SI pain resolved, and my baby got into the vertex position.

But at what cost?

During labor, which you can see here (in beautiful PG-13 detail courtesy of the ever-talented Amanda Ditzel - the password is 820calder903 ), I could not relax my glutes or pelvic floor. I was releasing every muscle I could mentally access, but when it came to my pelvic floor and gluteus muscles, they spasmed at the onset of each contraction and remained that way despite multiple techniques and tactics. The ol' "shake the apples" trick (it's in the video; you'll know it when you see it) changed my labor and Calder was born shortly after.

After he was born, I held him on my chest while the midwife checked on me, her assitant spoon-fed me, and everyone was cleaning up. I had to pee, but was a little woozy from a bit too much blood loss. I couldn't get up, and I knew - for the first time in my adult life - that I couldn't hold my bladder. I relayed this to my birth team, and as I was on the chux pads, and they told me to just pee.

For the next few weeks, I had some mild incontinence - what just about everyone considers "normal" after birth. But it didn't feel normal to me because I hadn't experienced it after my first birth. It diminished over the first few weeks after birth, and by the time I went to pelvic PT at three weeks postpartum, I was having only urge incontinence, meaning that if I had to go to the bathroom, I might leak. Otherwise, I had no incontinence.

That PT put me on a bladder schedule and did a bit of internal release work. It didn't work (this is not surprising), but my symptoms were sporadic, and at 8 weeks postpartum was when I began the process of getting diagnosed with Lupus. My bladder took a bit of a back seat.

But over the course of the next months and years spent reversing autoimmunity, I continued to experience a barrage of bladder symptoms. I sought all of the treatments and approaches that I've already listed, but any relief I found was short-lived. The symptoms have not so much decreased or become more predictable (outside of the slight decrease in symptoms since the most recent medication), but they have become easier to understand to a small degree.

I now have the slightest inkling if a spasm is approaching - similar to the feeling of, "oh crap, I'm about to get a Charley horse": there's nothing I can do about it, but I can respond to what's inevitable. My kids know my tricks and will knowingly say, "Spasm?" when they see me use them.

I have a few very focused distraction techniques (I know that sounds counterintuitive) that work mostly well, but it's still a pretty big disruption to my daily life. I locate bathrooms as soon as I arrive somewhere, pee in lots of questionable or completely inappropriate locations outside, and occasionally wear a pad (does it surprise you that I don't always wear a pad or panty-liner?).

I have spent the past four years attempting to live life as if it isn't happening for all of the reasons I listed in the first email of this series.

(At this point I'm asking myself if I can wrap this up anytime soon or if I need to continue this into tomorrow.)

My thought is that the sclerotherapy actually caused a bit of nerve damage somewhere in my pelvic region. I have no specific evidence (other than a possible listed side effect of "nerve damage" and a gut-feeling, which I've come to trust more and more), and I don't think that the procedure itself caused an issue because I had no symptoms until after labor. But I think that some combination of the sclerotherapy and labor caused an injury of sorts. And nerve damage is typically very slow to heal.

I live my life such that I refuse regrets. Every mistake, mis-step, or "failure" has brought me to the place I am right now, and I am grateful for each. I see no point in wasting time on what-ifs and should-haves. I did what I did when I did what I did and now I am where I am as a result.

Until quantum physics allows me to experience time travel (we're probably not far off, right?), there is no point in my trying to decide that something I did in the past is something that I would or could have done differently.

Would I repeat sclerotherapy if given another chance? Nope. But would I change that I did it back then? Also nope.

If I chose differently, would I have the symptoms I currently do? I have no idea, and I'm not going to waste my time what-iffing.

So to concisely wrap this all up, my future plans: this. Yep. Telling you. There's no point in not sharing this, and it is an act of trust that the past 8+ years of my career informing people on core and pelvic floor health will not be usurped by my own symptoms.

I trust that you won't succumb to the common but not normal lifestyle of peeing your pants. I trust that I will heal (I've reversed autoimmunity, for heaven's sake). And I trust that you can handle this information.

There it is in three easy-to-read, very short emails: a secret I've kept from nearly everyone for just under four years.

Maybe this act itself will heal me. Who knows, but I believe anything's possible.

Thanks for reading. I appreciate you.

xox
Lindsay