When I was in the hospital with the blood clot they took eight 10 ml vials and two weird bottles with mixers already in them (seriously) worth of my blood. Two weeks ago I sat in the doctor's office waiting for my results, filling out new patient paperwork, heart hammering in my chest because I really didn't know what kind of results I wanted. If I had a serious blood issue, there would be a reason my baby girl wasn't here. If I didn't, it would be good news, healthy news. But I truly couldn't decide which I wanted to hear. I longed for a reason she wasn't with me, anything to blame. The negative thoughts consumed me, remembering that while I was shopping for the last onesie I bought her, the day I went into labour, she was most likely already gone. JuneBridals neckline styled like sweetheart for the wedding
And then I came to this question on the new patient paperwork. My immediate answer was to check yes and write "1." But I hesitated. Because I didn't know if my daughter counted. She never had a breath in the outside world, never got a birth certificate. But I still gave birth to her, full term. I held her in my arms after sixteen hours of labour. But I did not know if she 'counted' to the medical community. I stared at the paper and agonised over the question for a solid three minutes. Ultimately I checked yes and wrote one. Because I do have a child. I do, and I could never answer 'no' to that question. I never knew four words on a paper could rip my heart in two.
The blood clot is gone. I don't have Factor V or any other blood disease. He said they tested for everything they could think of, since they had so much blood, and everything was pure, clean. But he said that some women are just more prone to clotting in pregnancy and postpartum and there's no way of telling until it happens.
And then he gave me something. He began typing, saying the words aloud, "If Taylor becomes pregnant again..." He shook his head, hitting the backspace. "/When/ Taylor becomes pregnant again..."
Those words, though, were followed up with some scary ones. He said I will have to take a blood thinner for the third trimester and six weeks after delivery. By injection. Daily. That's approximately 154 needles I will stick in my body. And you know what? I will do it. Though I am terrified of needles and IVs and possibly doing it all just to hold another baby made of stars- I will do it. Because I DO have a child, and I want another one. And I would do -anything- for my children.