We welcome with so much love and joy, Peter Vikram Sieminski
Born at 10:25pm on September 19, 2016
Weighing in at 6lbs 14ozs and 18 inches long
We’re so proud of our 36-weeker. He didn’t have to go to the NICU and is happy and healthy in the well baby nursery. So many blessings!
Nora is coming to the hospital later today to meet her brother 🙂 Here we go………
Yesterday I hit 36 weeks. Holy cow I feel so lucky to have made it this far.
While yesterday was a huge milestone, today is even bigger. It’s our last day hanging out with Nora before BBS arrives because…..I’m being induced tomorrow :0
A few weeks ago we scheduled my cerclage removal for tomorrow, Monday, the 19th. I’ll be 36 and 2 when the stitch comes out. But my doctors were torn on when I’d actually go into labor. My OB thought I’d go that day, while my MFM thought I’d go a few days later.
We don’t need to guess anymore because they decided as a team to induce me after the cerclage is removed (assuming I don’t go into labor only own). That’s nearly 14 weeks (3 1/2 months) of bed rest for BBS and I. Wow!
You might be wondering why they’d induce after I’ve come this far. Late last week it was confirmed that I developed cholestasis of pregnancy. About 10 days ago my entire body started itching like crazy. At first it was mainly my hands and feet, but then it spread everywhere. 4 benadryls + an ambien couldn’t make me fall asleep through the itching. It was horrible. I called my OB’s night nurse and told her my symptoms. The next day my doctor sent me for lab work to test my liver function and bile acid. The results came in confirming the condition, UGH. Below is a quick overview of what Cholestasis is.
According to What to Expect:
Cholestasis is a liver disorder that most often occurs late in pregnancy, typically during the third trimester. While it occurs in just one to two pregnancies in 1,000, it can cause complications in your newborn — which is why it’s important to recognize the symptoms and talk to your doctor if you think it might be affecting you. Fortunately, early diagnosis and active management by your doctor can help ensure you and your baby have a safe and healthy pregnancy and delivery.
A quick biology lesson: Bile, excreted by the liver and stored in the gallbladder, helps your body break down fats into fatty acids that your intestines can absorb. Cholestasis is a condition that slows down the normal flow of bile into the gallbladder, causing a buildup of bile acids in the liver — which in turn spills into the bloodstream, causing intense itching. Possible causes include:
Hormonal changes that occur during pregnancy (especially in the third trimester): Extra estrogen can increase cholesterol levels in bile and decrease gallbladder contractions.
Gestational diabetes: This disease is often associated with a higher risk of cholestasis.
Genetic disposition: If an immediate family member has had cholestasis during pregnancy, be sure to tell your doctor.
Gallstones: A collection of small stone masses in the gallbladder caused by imbalances of bile (pregnant women are also more at risk of gallstones due to increased estrogen levels) can also be the cause.
With regular prenatal care and monitoring, your baby will likely not be affected during pregnancy and after delivery. Studies have found little increased risk to babies when their mothers have only mild cholestasis and low amounts of bile acids. However, in cases when maternal bile acids are higher, cholestasis can increase baby’s risk of a low birth weight, a slightly lower Apgar score, lung immaturity and preterm delivery — which is why early diagnosis and treatment are so important. In extremely rare cases, stillbirth is a risk, though it may be prevented if labor is induced before week 38.
I can’t believe I’ve managed to add more goddamn lemons to my pile. But there you have it. Because this condition can put BBS at risk, we’re opting to induce at 36 and 2. In a perfect world, we’d wait until 37, but BBS’s non stress tests have been a mixed bag. So we’re choosing to be safe than sorry.
So this is it my friends. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your love and support on this journey. Please send your continued good vibes my way – pray for an uncomplicated delivery and that BBS makes his debut healthy and happy.
I’ll post more once he’s born. But please be patient with me. Even though I’m being induced, he might not arrive until Tuesday. And even then, we’re going to want some family time to process this whole journey. If BBS goes to the NICU I expect that we’ll be quite busy with that – but I’ll do my best to post updates here for you all.
With all my love and thanks!
I heart how Maisey’s lurking in the corner of this pic. Haha
I’ve been on bed rest for 80 days and I’m 33 and 5 today! This is the 4th calendar month I’ve been on bed rest for – crazy.
This week’s appointment went well. Baby and cerclage both look good.
On Saturday I flip to 34 weeks – a day I never thought we’d see. I’m starting to believe we may actually weather this storm.
Upcoming milestones:
Ring in September – That’s today! Milestone met 🙂
Dr. Yee OB appt – Sept. 2nd
Flip to 34 weeks – Sept. 3rd
Prenatal massage – Sept. 5th
Below Deck season premiere – Sept. 6th
Flip to 35 weeks – Sept. 10th
Dr. Katz MFM appt – Sept. 12th
Update: We’re still chugging’ along (knock wood). My next ultrasound is on the 30th. Fingers crossed everything remains stable until then.
As BBS’s impending birth becomes more real to me, I can’t help but think back to when Nora was born. So much love. Love like I’ve never felt before.
I, like all second time parents to be, am worried I couldn’t possibly love another tiny human as much as I love Nora. But, after what BBS and I have been through, my love for him is already immense and it’ll just keep growing from here. I can’t wait to meet him (well, you know what I mean – I can’t wait for him to be done cooking and then meet him!). I’ve been so heads down and focused on the immediate task at hand, that I lost sight of the joy in carrying and growing another human life. Don’t get me wrong though, I only allow myself to enjoy it in measured doses for fear of jinxing everything. Some of the fun things I’ve done recently are ordering decor for BBS’s nursery and personalized thank you cards for him. It’s been really nice to feel happy instead of scared and worried.
In the meantime, I never published Nora’s entire newborn photo shoot. There are lots of duds in there for sure – but I don’t even care anymore – I’m overwhelmed by love (and pregnancy hormones!) and want the world to see them all. Hope you enjoy (esp the few that include Maisey — she’s such a character)…
(Photo credit goes to Kim Lind Photography)
I went home.
After 7 1/2 weeks on hospital bedrest, I’m heading home. BBS is still safe ‘n sound in utero. So my doctors are letting me take this party back to my own bed. I’ll still be on strict bed rest at home, but at least I’ll be home.
I’m so happy that I’ll get to see Nora on a daily basis. She only came to visit me on the weekends because I felt it was important for her to maintain her routine and have stability during the week. I wanted her to go to the park and run around outside everyday, not come to the hospital and sit couped up in my room. The upside to all this craziness is that Paul and Nora have enjoyed an incredibly special two months together. Their bond has been cemented and then covered with tar for good measure! And, extra little bonus, Paul can now do a mean ponytail 😉
But truly, not seeing Nora regularly was the absolute hardest thing for me to deal with. I had to emotionally shut down during the week in order to cope with her absence. Thankfully BBS is an extremely active kiddo. So his kicks, punches and rolls served as a reminder of WHY I’m sacrificing. His life and health far outweigh my own ache and long for Nora.
Whenever I feel down about this process, I force myself to refocus by recalling how far I’ve come. When I was first admitted, my doctors fully prepared Paul and I to lose BBS. Upon admission, Dr. Katz gave me three choices (1) do nothing and allow my body to finish delivering BBS and he would pass away, (2) take medicine to purposefully end the pregnancy and try to get pregnant again at a later date or (3) do everything medically possible to save BBS knowing there are zero guarantees. I was alone at the hospital when given these choices because Paul and Nora were still making their way up. For me, the conversation was surreal but not scary. I think I may have even laughed at the first 2 choices (perhaps a nervous habit? or maybe a sign of how naive I was about how bad my situation was?). Number 3 is what I chose on June 14th and I continue to choose today. No brainer.
Perhaps one day I’ll blog about the insanely tough conversations we’ve had with the neonatologists and about the stats of my ever shortening, basically non-existent cervix. But not today. Today I focus on the next stage of the fight. I’m not to the finish line yet.
I have very mixed emotions about leaving. Mentally, I like knowing that the doctors and nurses can spring into action within seconds should anything go down. But I have to remind myself that I’ve been super vigilant thus far and I’ll continue to be equally, if not more so, at home. Emotionally, I lose a bit of confidence every time someone says something like “What?!! You’re going home? Are you sure that’s a good idea? Whose decision was it? Well, don’t overdo it at home.”
Ummm, thanks for basically saying you have zero confidence in me. It’s insulting and undermining. I’m the one who has fought every second of every day for the past 53 days to keep my child alive and safe. I’m the one who lays in bed all day long. I have constant heartburn because I eat my meals laying down. I have the beginning of bed soars on my thighs because I lay all day. I worry every.single.time I get up to go to the bathroom. Trust me, it’s me who knows more than you what’s at stake here. I realize that you say these things out of concern, but you’re effectively saddling me with your own fears. Please stop putting me in the position of comforting and reassuring you.
The reality is that I will go into labor one day. Whether that happens tonight (on the very night I arrive home) or one month from now is irrelevant because it won’t be my fault. It won’t be because I walked to the bathroom in my home instead of festering in the hospital and walking to the bathroom there. It won’t be because Nora jumped onto the bed to read a book or snuggle with me (newsflash she does all of that when she visits the hospital). It won’t be because I walked into the kitchen to get a water refill. It won’t be because I did or didn’t do anything.
Next steps/milestones: Tomorrow I’ll hit 30 weeks which is a HUGE accomplishment and something I plan to celebrate with Paul, Nora, Maisey and BBS. I’ll have an ultrasound Wednesday the 10th. They’ll measure the baby and check the cerclage. Dr. Katz will look at the results and determine if I can stay at home or if I need to come back in.
Sorry I went so deep with this post, apparently I had a lot of pent up emotion…
Final spin on the monitors before being discharged
Hi everyone! Today marks 5 weeks since I was admitted to the hospital. I can’t believe how far I’ve come. I’m so proud of BBS (Baby Boy Sieminski) for hanging in there with me.
Below are some items I had brought to my room to make my stay more comfortable. If any of you reading this are in the same boat as me — I hope these ideas help you on your journey.
Before I get started, let me note that I’m on strict bed rest with bathroom and shower privileges. I did have to lie in the trendelenberg position my first day here (ugh) but haven’t had to do that since. So for those of you in trendelenberg, with a foley catheter, or using a bed pan – not all of these suggestions will apply to you, sorry.
Bedding
Room
Bathroom
Activities
Snacks & Food
Now that I have gestational diabetes (Oh! Forgot to mention that, didn’t I? I’ll do an update later this week to let everyone know what’s going on with me and my new milestones), here’s what I’ve got in my snack basket…
Please indulge me and take the survey below to let me know if you want me to post pics of my new abode. I’m happy to oblige, but only if it’s of interest to you all! xoxo
Hey everyone,
Just wanted to do a quick update for you. We were supposed to leave on our babymoon tomorrow – oh well – guess we’ll take a raincheck on that one!
I’m on Day 24 of my incarceration, errr, I mean, hospital bed rest stint. In all seriousness, I do, at times, feel like a prisoner, though its arguable that prisoners have more freedoms than I at the moment 🙂 But, when I start to feel that way, I just remind myself that this is all for my son. And, of course, he’s worth it.
Everything with my body, the cerclage and baby are holding stable. I do fetal monitoring and contraction monitoring 3 times a day. So far I’m not really having any contractions to speak of. The few I have are not painful, so are likely just Braxton Hicks – which are normal at this point in a pregnancy. Baby boy is super active and recently moved from breech to head down (though he can easily move back to breech since it’s still really early). I get my amniotic fluid levels checked twice a week, and so far so good on that front. I get an ultrasound to check the cerclage every two weeks — my next one in July 13th.
My doctors are becoming cautiously optimistic. While we still talk in terms of days, not weeks. They each (my OB and my high risk surgeon) have said they’re hopeful I get to 28 weeks and beyond. My surgeon went so far as to say that he’ll be going on vacation in late August for 2 weeks and ‘I’m not to have the baby while he’s gone’. If I behave, he said he’d remove the cerclage on September 15th. That, ladies and gentleman, is TEN WEEKS from today. Holy goddamn hell. Thats a long way away. But my due date is October 15th, so to hold this guy in until September 15th would be awesome!
So that’s the update for you. Here are a few of my upcoming mini-milestones (in case you wondered about the inner workings of my brain):
So those are the goals for the next little while — you can see I’m trying to keep it light and simple! Stay tuned for a post on tips n’ tricks to surviving a prolonged hospital stay. Figure I might as well pass along some things I’ve learned along the way…
xoxo
Huge hugs and kisses to all of you for the many, many messages of love and support. Your thoughts and prayers are working!
As I write this I’m listening to the baby’s heart beat glub glub on the monitor. It’s the best sound ever. I get fetal monitoring and contraction monitoring every four hours throughout the day. I’m on the monitors for an hour session each time. It’s a great activity that takes up four hours of my day and I just love hearing his little body moving around and his strong heart thumping away. Yay!
This morning I had an ultrasound done to check the stability of my cerclage and all looks good. The doctors were very happy with the way everything looked. They’ll check it again in a few weeks.
Our game plan remains unchanged. I’ll stay on hospital bed rest for the foreseeable future and will just cross fingers and toes that my body keeps responding to inactivity.
Onward and upward.
xoxo
When life keeps giving you lemons, I’m here to tell you, you WILL get sick of making lemonade.
Two weeks ago I went to see my OB because I’d been spotting for about 24 hours. I was 22 weeks and 3 days pregnant. She did an exam and told me that she could feel my membranes. She said I have an incompetent cervix and I needed to immediately go to the hospital where I’d be admitted for at least a couple of days.
She told me that she was going to call a high risk surgeon to meet me and she was hoping he’d be able to place a “rescue”cerclage in my cervix. There wasn’t a whole lot of certainty in her voice though. She was really unsure whether anything could be done. She was very factual and calm, but I could tell baby boy and I were in deep shit.
So I hopped a cab (faster than uber or an ambulance) over to CPMC California. The nurses in triage were expecting me (I started having major PTSD flashbacks of the adria leak and my trip to the ER for the antidote….)
Long story short, I was having emergency surgery within an hour and a half. I was 3cm dilated and the surgeon could see baby boy’s feet coming out through the membranes (which were bulging out of my cervix). Thank heavens the doctor was able to get the bag back into my cervix without rupturing it and there was enough cervix left to work with to insert a cerclage.
I’m not going to lie to any of you. The outlook those first 72 hours was really, really grim, but my body pulled through, and, far as anyone can tell, the baby is none the wiser (though he did get a good healthy dose of narco post-op and a 4-day-round-the-clock-dose of antibiotics via IV to my body).
So now I’m on indefinite bed rest at the hospital. Since I was asymptomatic when all of this started (save a little spotting) my doctors are hesitant to breathe a sigh of relief. We’re forced to take everything day by day and pray for the best.
It’s been 14 days since I arrived here. It’s been incredibly hard not to see Nora, Maisey and Paul all the time. It’s been a major test of character to have to surrender 100% control of everything in my life. From caring for my child, to my own body. I have to be strong every day and remember that I’m a mere vessel. Here to incubate the newest member of our family. It’s not an easy job at all. I was in a lot of physical pain early on. Now I’m in a lot of emotional pain. But when I focus on one day at a time, that helps.
This past Saturday I hit 24 weeks in my pregnancy, which is a huge milestone. Should baby boy arrive at this point, there are life saving measures that can be taken. That was not the case when I first arrived at 22 weeks.
So we are grateful for every small victory and we’ll keep pushing on. There are so many more details to the story, but the above is the gist. We’d appreciate it if you could keep us all in your prayers and hold space for us. We’ve got a long, long road ahead and hope that it’s drama free.
xoxo,
Andrea
I wrote this two years ago and just came across it in my draft posts. I added a little bit at the end to bring it up to date. Enjoy:
So I was watching the Tig Notaro Netflix documentary and I decided it was high time for me to write my own reflective story. So here goes:
Hello, I’m infertile. I thought the very worst thing in my life was that I couldn’t get pregnant. For years my husband and I tried. We tried the old fashioned way. We tried the least invasive way. We tried the middle of the road invasive way We tried the most invasive way, multiple times over. Yet no pregnancy and no baby. I wept and I wept every single month that we failed to get pregnant. And I say “we” loosely. When you struggle with infertility, it quickly becomes an “I” game, not a “we” game. I had to do all the shots, I had to take all the hormones I had to check my underwear everys single time I went to the bathroom praying that my period wouldn’t show her nasty face. Sure, my husband was also infertile in a way — but he wasn’t physically going through anything. It was all on my shoulders and I was failing, miserably.
And after three years of infertility treatments, including 10 IUI’s with and without injectables and 4 IVF rounds including a few frozen embryo transfers, we still were without a child.
It was the worst kind of hell a person could be asked to live through. I was working full-time at a very demanding start-up company. I was juggling my personal hell with my professional goals. It was horrible. I was miserable. I thought it was the very worst thing that could ever happen to me in my whole entire life. And then I was diagnosed with cancer.
If I could go back and whisper in my own ear, here’s what I would tell myself.
Andrea, hold tight to Paul even though you’re mad that he doesn’t feel “in the mood” and your ovulation window is closing. Hold tight to him because you can’t have a baby anyway. Hold tight to him and love him purely. You are about to find out that having a baby the old fashioned way isn’t an option for you. So hold on to this connection as long as you can. Nobody really talks about it, but having sex “on demand” is horrid — it can break a couple in half quickly. So hold tight to this loving man who appreciates you and your body, even though it hasn’t yielded a baby.
Andrea, you’re now 8 months into your fertility journey. Keep your head held high. You’re doing the right thing. It sucks to have to give yourself shots and that you cringe every time a friend posts her ultrasound to Facebook announcing her pregancy. Remember, she doesn’t know what you’re struggling with infertility because you’re intent on keeping it a secret from the world.
Andrea, why are you still keeping this a secret? It’s now been 3 years since you started this journey. your medical expenses have topped out over $100,000 and you’ve given yourself over 1,000 shots to the belly. Don’t you think it’s time to share this complete fucking hell with somebody?
Andrea, don’t you feel so much better now that you’ve told your family what you’ve been struggling with. Honestly, this has been the WORST thing imaginable. But it’s been really nice to have their support. You feel a new sense of energy and sticktuitivness, Ready to conquer the next hurdle.
Then you feel the lump. You talk to Paul about it but try to brush it off. You talk to your fertility nurse about it and try to brush it off. Then the lump persists. You can’t ignore it. You go to the doctor and she fells it and orders some follow-up tests. Still, in your mind, you brush it off. What.could.be.worse.than.3.years.of.infertility?
Breast cancer. It was laughable to me when it happened. Fucking hilarious. Seriously, for real?
After all that’d I’d been through, I got cancer. Wow.just.wow.
Andrea, just hold on a little while longer. 2 more years. You can do it. You can handle having your breasts amputated. You can handle surgical recovery. You can handle chemotherapy. You can handle your body being reduced to a lump of shit with no muscle definition or endurance. You can handle testing your marriage, yet again. You can handle it all.
Andrea, you can handle it all — but you will have your moments. You will have those times when you dont want to be the superhero. When you don’t want to smile through the tears. When you dont feel like asking another person how THEY feel. When you want to be selfish and cry. and weep. and weep. and weep. and wallow.
Andrea, your beloved dog will die unexpectedly just as you are feeling like yourself after chemo is finally done. This will knock you an on your ass. You will question everything that you thought you understood in this world. You will become angry. More angry than when you found out you had cancer, You will be sad. So sad. Sadder than when you couldn’t have a baby month after month after month.
You truly thought you’d been dealt the worst of the worst. First the infertilty, then the cancer, then your fucking dog died. What next? How much lower can you go?
Andrea, you will look up through your tear-drenched eyes and see the love that your husband has for you. You will realize he is all you need in this world. Baby, no baby. Dog, No dog, Cancer, no cancer. He is your salvation. Stop taking him for granted. He is incredible. Look no further. He’s been at your side the whole time. Quietly and not so quietly rooting for you. Whether you know it or not. He’s been your biggest fan.
Andrea, you’ll get the type of cancer that’s incerdibly aggressive — BUT it’s the kind with no aftercare for 10 years. You can hop yourself up full of hormoes and still carry a pregnancy.
Andrea, you will become pregnant and enjoy every single second of it, including the birth.
Andrea, all of your wishes and dreams WILL come true and you will be happier than you could’ve ever imganined. You will want to bottle the emotions because they’re like crack. You could make a fortune selling this feeling to other people.
You are one lucky son of a gun. What a long strange trip it’s been.
Post script – you get pregnant for a second time and almost lose the baby at 22 weeks. Life seems likes it’s at another all time low.
Andrea, hang in there. After an emergency surgery and nearly 8 weeks of hospital bedrest, you’ll get to go home and serve another 7 weeks of bedrest. But at the end of the day, you’ll get a second baby who is perfect.
In the end, you’ll end up with a daughter and a son. They are perfect in every way.
Andrea, your marriage is still intact and strong. Hopefully the shit show the past 7 years will become a distant memory very soon…..
xoxo.
Me
Comfortably Numb 