The testing of your faith produces perseverance - Pregnancy Journey Part 2

My pregnancy journey had finally began and it was all so peaceful. I was grateful to God. The God I served had looked upon me with mercy; what people thought was impossible and could only be achieved through medical intervention (maybe), my God had given me with no medical aid. I was finally pregnant. The doctors, however, had informed me that I would have miscarriages because of the position of the fibroid so I would declare at every given moment, ‘the only person who could take this baby out of me, is the One who put him/her in, and nobody else had the authority to take this baby out’. And so far, so good, it was a peaceful pregnancy…or so I thought.

Five days after we found out I was pregnant, I had to relocate to Lagos for work and I didn’t mind. I was too happy to be upset that my husband wouldn’t be with me in Lagos. We were going to have a child and that’s all that mattered. And besides, I had prayed to God for a peaceful pregnancy so being in Lagos alone wasn’t going to be too hard. Also, I was a gentle, calm pregnant woman with no outward symptoms. I wasn’t throwing up, smells did not affect me, I wasn’t in any discomfort, etc., honestly, if I didn’t tell you I was pregnant, you had no idea I was. I was grateful to God for answered prayers and I was even looking forward to going to the gym when I entered my second trimester. I was in pregnancy heaven.

Suddenly, I fell ill with a migraine that refused to be cured and my mum had to come and take care of me. I recovered after a while, but due to my medical history (i.e. fibroids and thus, what they termed a ‘high risk’ pregnancy), the doctors in Lagos advised that I go back to Abuja and be close to the doctors who had been seeing me prior to my move to Lagos. I was more than happy to oblige (Lagos can be stressful). Thus, I began the process of pleading with my employer to either relocate back to the Abuja office permanently for work or at least for the duration of the pregnancy.

During the course of this process, which was harder than I could ever imagine and unnecessary, I was told I couldn’t work in the Abuja office and I had to be on leave in order to sort myself out. I thought it was unfair, but as long as they eventually allowed me to move back to Abuja without having to resign even if for the duration of the pregnancy, I could accept this. Nevertheless, I would go into the office at different intervals to plead my case.

On one of those days I waited to hear from my employer, I noticed I couldn’t breathe. As I got up from the dining table after eating a plate of bread and eggs, my breathing came in short, painful gasps. How could this be? I was an active, 30 something year old woman in her first trimester. I wasn’t supposed to be experiencing any sort of discomfort. And besides I had prayed, God had answered, or hadn’t He? Yes, He had. This was just a pregnancy symptom. This was my first pregnancy and I had been told that the symptoms could vary so I needn’t worry. But it got progressively worse. We went to different doctors trying to figure out what was wrong, but they couldn’t find anything. I kept being told that it was simply a pregnancy symptom that would usually present itself in the third trimester, and maybe mine just came early…but I couldn’t breathe.

As the doctors couldn’t find anything, I learnt to live with it. I couldn’t climb the staircase easily, but I learnt to live with it. I couldn’t talk much and sometimes I would lay on the couch unable to even string together two sentences, but I learnt to live with it. I couldn’t sleep and it felt like any breath might be my last, but I learnt to live with it. Despite the constant pain, I learnt to live with it. I was getting better at living with it by the day as I thought, this was a symptom and I would go through this pregnancy like a champ. I was almost through with the first trimester and I was looking forward to being able to drive and just go about my normal, peaceful, although in a lot of pain, pregnancy life. But then the unexpected happened and all hell broke loose.

I got up on a Wednesday morning, excited to drive and serve. I had just entered my second trimester, my pastor was coming in, there was an event in church the coming weekend, I was in a team, etc., I was too happy to notice anything out of the ordinary. In my excitement, I exerted myself by quickly climbing too many stairs and suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I tried to scream but I couldn’t and even if I did scream, there was no one at home. My jaw hurt, I was about to topple over into a mirror and I held my belly; I couldn’t lose this pregnancy. I started to call out, ‘Holy Spirit, Holy Spirit’ as He is my Helper and pray that I wasn’t having a heart attack. I managed to fall back onto my bed instead and laid in a fetal position still calling out the Holy Spirit. I calmed down and I called my husband informing him that I was unable to drive and thus, leave the house. I was disappointed that I couldn’t go out, but it was better  for me and the other motorists on the road to be safe. Besides I just needed to rest or so I thought. I stayed in bed for the rest of the day, trying my hardest to rest and manage my breathing. It could only get better, right?

However, I woke up the next morning in a lot of pain in my left leg. I couldn’t walk. I took painkillers, I tried to massage my leg but the pain just got worse. I called doctors I knew personally, and they told me that the fibroids may simply be degenerating, which could be causing the pain. But this pain wouldn’t let up. It was so bad that my mum had to give me a bath that morning. I had no idea that it would be the first of many. With the pain not subsiding, I called my husband to please come take me to the hospital. I couldn’t even walk to the front door without crying in pain.

We got to the hospital and still the same story. There was nothing wrong with me, it was simply a pregnancy symptom, I will be alright, however, they would keep me overnight just to observe me. But there was nothing to worry about, they had done all the necessary tests and they couldn’t find anything. I thought to myself as they wheeled me to a room, ‘how can a nurse be wheeling me to my room and the doctors are saying that there is nothing wrong with me?’

During the course of the night, my leg began to swell and turn cold, hardening in the process. I called a doctor friend of mine in the UK, and told her my symptoms. She simply asked, ‘are you sure you do not have a clot?’ But, what do you mean by that question? I am a healthy 30 something year old woman; I am not overweight, I haven’t had any major surgeries, etc. I cannot have a clot. As I lay in bed, I did my research and although I didn’t have any of the predispositions, I had the symptoms. However, I could only be certain if I had a clot with a scan as all the other tests that were done showed that there was nothing wrong with me.

Even though the doctor on call refused to allow the scan to be done, seeing as it was too late in the night, my mother (God bless her) insisted I should be scanned that night and not the next day as my leg kept swelling and hardening. Thus, I had a doppler scan performed on my left upper inner thigh and lo and behold, I was told I had an 8 cm clot in my leg. As soon as the doctor on call was informed, she told me not to move and the only place I could go, was the toilet (to be honest, I was in too much pain to move. I had to use a bed pain just to relieve myself). I could feel the tension and the fear in the room rise. But all I had in mind was that I had to get better so that I could go back just in time for the program in church; I must serve.

Nevertheless, the thing about clots is that even though it is usually found in the leg, which then leads to you having a deep vein thrombosis, it can dislodge and would likely go to one of three places; your lungs, your heart or your brain. And if found in any of these places, it can lead to death if not treated as soon as possible. So, the aim was to make sure I do not move so much, so as to prevent the clot from dislodging. As long as I, the patient, could do that, everything should be fine. They started me on some medications that night and all seemed fine.

The next morning, some more doctors came to my room. What seemed like a simple pregnancy symptom had escalated to a mild pregnancy symptom. The cardiologist came to see me and as I talked, she watched me. She then asked if I had trouble breathing. I told her I had had trouble breathing for a while now but I had gotten used to it and it seemed better. She advised that I do a CT scan, even with the pregnancy, just to be on the safe side. I did the CT scan and our worst fear was confirmed. Part of the 8 cm clot in my left leg had dislodged and travelled to my right lung causing some blockage. Luckily, it hadn’t blocked a major artery and it was a miracle I was still alive seeing as I had had the symptoms for a while. But I was in serious danger because the mild pregnancy symptom had suddenly become an emergency.