Well because of what happened

"Well because of what happened..." became a familiar phrase that I had to hear over and over again while I was in the hospital.

I will say first of all, that I am the proud mother of a beautiful baby boy Cade Ashby Larkin.  We have been home for almost 12 hours, and we are fitting back into our lives, which does include 5 animals.  Many people obviously know my back story, and have questions about what happened, before, during, and after labor.  I will do my best to say what I can.  I will also say I won't go into super detail, but there might be more than some people want to know.  You have been warned. 

Jacob and I called the hospital at 5:30 on Friday morning.  We were on the induction list, and they had a room that would be ready for me at 7:30.  I hadn't really slept that much the night before, and I hadn't eaten anything since 7:30 the night before.  As we drove to the hospital I just kept thinking about how this was the last time I would go down this road without a baby, be on this highway without a baby, the next time I turned this corner I would be a mother.  I remember Jacob and I were really just pretty quite.

I had my triathlon bag packed as my labor bag.  We parked, and I walked myself through the parking deck, and up the stairs to labor/delivery.  I was feeling the same I had for the past few weeks.  We got into our labor room and we got situated.  I was overwhelmed by the kindness, and compassion of everyone we came across at Northside Hospital Atlanta.  I was hooked up to an IV, and they took my CBC right away.  They couldn't start anything until my counts came back and the doctor gave the okay.  They did hook me up and "Pat" (at the time) to the monitors.  We were pleasantly surprised to find I was already having contractions about 3-5 minutes apart.  I hadn't felt anything.

At 9:15 the doc got word that my counts were 63,000, and he approved me to be induced.   I was 3 cm dilated when we started.  We watched the TV, I read some magazines, joked around with the nurses.  I did get an enema, which was not as bad as everyone makes it out to be.  Uncomfortable of course, but not too bad.  Happy I did it in the end...no pun intended.

At noon the doctor made his first visit to come in for a check.  While he was getting ready to just check me out my water broke on its own.  That made me feel a bit better about the whole situation.  The doctor was surprised, and told me he wasn't planning on that happening yet, but he said things would start moving along.  I was happy that nature had been working the whole time, and most likely I would have gone into labor in the next few days, had I not been where I was at that time. 

At 12:30 I started feeling the contractions.  I was happy at that point, because up until then I was unable to know I was having contractions, unless the machine told me.  The nurse gave me a pain killer to help "take the edge off".  I didn't feel any difference, I guess I had an immunity to it as I never felt relief so I didn't continue to take it.

At 2:30 I started throwing up from the pain.  I was walking back and forth to the bathroom just to move around.  At this point things get a little fuzzy and I can't give specifics.  I know I threw up a couple more times, and I just kept walking back and forth to the bathroom.  I know nurses were in and out of the room, I know Jacob was there.  Besides that I can't remember too much.

I do remember our tech Pat, yes her name was really Pat, was in the room when I started feeling like I had to push.  Pat told me it wasn't time yet, but the pain, and the pressure was so intense I told her otherwise.  She had me lay down on my side, and packed me in with pillows to help me get through the pain.  When I held on to the side of bed and couldn't help but push, she finally checked me out.  It was then she said "Oh dear sweety, hold on.  It is time, and I am going to get the doctor in here right now".

Things get fuzzier from there.  The nurses tell me that I started pushing at 6:15.  I remember the doc making some jokes.  I know Jacob was up behind my head.  I was flat on my back, and holding on to the bed rails.  My body just took over.  It told me when to push, the doc counted, and Jacob helped support my neck and encouraged me.  The amount of pain I was in cannot be described.

I know I was becoming discouraged in the middle.   I felt like I was pushing as hard as I could, only to stop pushing and feel the baby slide back inside.  I felt like I had no more energy left, and the doctor just kept telling me I was doing great, and I was a superwoman.  I remember the doc holding apart my pelvic bones, and telling me he knew I wouldn't be happy with him.  The pain was overwhelming, but I just keep thinking there will be a baby at the end of this. 

Then it finally happened.  I remember seeing the baby's head come out.  The doc cleaned the baby's eyes and nose, and then I heard the baby cry.  I couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl yet.  It was one more round of pushing to get the baby out.  I remember seeing the baby and looking back at Jacob and smiling.  I knew we had a boy.  No one had to tell me.  I looked at Jacob and said "We have a Cade"  It was then that things in the room changed.

The nurses took the baby to the other side of the room, which I was told would happen.  They would clean the baby, check for the major vitals, wrap the baby and return the baby back to the mom.  I watched them checking over Cade, and I heard that everything was fine.  But then I could tell there was a change in the atmosphere.  The doctor had a steady look on his face, and the nurses started moving around with hushed voices.  Then the nurses that had Cade called Jacob over to them.  I remember thinking why isn't the baby over here?  Why haven't they let me put my legs down?  Why is everything happening so fast?  The doctor started shouting out orders, I remember the word "stat" coming out of his mouth, and I thought, this really happens in real life?  One of my last full memories is Jacob across the room torn between looking at his new baby, and watching what was happening to his wife.  I watched his face look at the doctor with confusion and horror, and then when his eyes met mine, a look of fear crossed his face.  I knew something wasn't right.  I asked the doctor if this was normal?  He wouldn't answer me.  I looked to the right as a nurse stuck me with three different needles, I asked her if this was normal?  She just looked at me with compassion, but said nothing.

Whatever was in those shots messed me up.  I have little clear memories for the next few hours.  I know the doctor worked on me from 7:05, when Cade was born, to around 8:30.  I later learned that he could not get the bleeding under control.  The doctor estimates, and he said it was a low estimate 3 separate times, that I lost 2.5 times the amount of blood someone does during a c-section.  Remember Cade had a vaginal birth.  I was given around four different types of clotting steroids, and some morphine to help me "through the tough stuff".   The doctor and nurses worked non stop, and I remember the doctor finally pushing back and he looked like a murder victim.  I wanted to joke with him, but my words fell on deaf ears.  I could not keep my eyes open, and when my eyes would open they would vibrate back and forth.  I just laid on the bed.  I wanted to eat, and drink something so badly.  But the nurses wouldn't let me have anything.

They finally brought Cade over to me about 8:40.  I couldn't even focus on his face, and I remember feeling frustrated that I couldn't see him.  I was so numb I didn't have any emotions.  As I was holding Cade, I overheard the nurses explaining to Jacob that we wouldn't be able to keep the baby in the room with us for the night because I would be kept in high risk, down the hallway.  They then let him know he was not allowed to leave me alone with the baby because I was "unstable".   I wanted to cry, but couldn't.  I was unable to be with my baby because I was sick.  I was keeping my husband away from his baby because I was sick.

The nurses finally allowed me to try and drink some water, and eat some crackers around 9:30.  Those didn't stay down very long, and I had another few episodes of throwing up.  Jacob's parents were able to come in and see Cade for a little while before they took him up the nursery.  I was unable to focus or keep my eyes open.  I don't remember Cade leaving.  They moved Jacob and I down the hall to another, much smaller room.  I was not allowed to use the restroom without a nurse.  I wasn't allowed to eat anything.  When I would ask a question like "When can I eat something" it was followed by "Well because of what happened...." Every question was followed with that answer.  "When can I go to the bathroom by myself?"  "When can I sleep?"  "When can I see Cade again?"  When will this IV come out of my hand?"  "Well...because of what happened...."

I sort of knew it was not a normal delivery.  But the next morning a nurse came in to help me with some labs.  She was taking my CBC when she let me know she had been in the labor room the night before.  She said it was so good to see me on the other side, looking so good.  She had a look of compassion on her face I had not seen in a long time.  She was truly concerned about me.  It was then it started dawning on me that what I had been through must not have been A-typical.   

I will update more later, but that was the first deal.  The fact that I was unable to bond with Cade right away has bothered me a bit.  I am working at moving through those emotions.  They are natural, but really have little medical backing, just emotional.  I am happy to say that we survived our first night home thanks mostly to my sister and mom helping us out.  I am almost back to normal.   I am still very weak. I act okay, but if I was to be honest I can't stand up for more than 3 minutes at a time, and I can't carry Cade yet.  I can hold him while sitting, but lifting him is out of the question for a little while longer.  I am working at getting my strength back.

I can't thank everyone enough for all the thoughts and prayers.  There was some amazing higher power things going on in that room.  I was surrounded by all the right people at the right times.  I know that it is not coincidental that I was discharged from the hospital at the 48 hour mark, like I had an A-typical delivery. So thank you from the bottom of mine and my brand new baby boy's heart!

Peace will enter the hearts who seek it

We are less than 12 hours before I at least will be given a time to enter the hospital.   I left my classroom today with everything done that I could possibly do.  I have to know there is nothing more I can do, and must trust that the other staff and administration will make sure learning takes place within my classroom. 

I have become a lot more calm about the induction decision.  It has been hard, and I still wouldn't be completely against my water breaking around 1 am this morning.  But since I have yet to feel even a braxton hick contraction I am not holding my breath for nature to take over.  

Jacob decided that he will be recycled to the next recruiting class.  He spoke with his higher ups, and as much as they wanted to help him, he has to be present in class from 10 - 4 tomorrow.  The classes are Georgia state mandated, so without the classes he cannot be certified as a police officer.  If he were to leave, or not be there he would automatically be recycled. 

This decision weighs heavy on my heart.  I feel completely guilty.  Jacob is making what I consider to be a huge sacrifice.  He is at peace with it.  I am floundering around.  If I wasn't sick, we wouldn't be inducing, if we weren't inducing he would be at class tomorrow.  If he were at class tomorrow he wouldn't have to re-do the three weeks of academy that he already has completed.  He wouldn't have to wait until Oct, to get started again.....It all boils down to me....

He is upset that I am saying this.  I am an honest person, and won't stop today.  I have an underlying feeling that this is the right path.  Jacob had a very in depth and intellectual conversation with his superiors.  He feels that this is not only the right decision but the one that makes the most sense overall.  I trust his judgment. 

My best friend Shane broke the whole situation this way "I know what an extraordinarily difficult decision that must have been.  Either choice would have been 100% understandable.  I'm sure he will have absolutly no regrets.  Just shows what kind of husband he is, and the kind of father he will be. "  I must go with that.  Well stated my Nerd. 

I will leave you with a picture we took yesterday.  I am still in shock that I have made it to 39 weeks and 5 days.  But tomorrow awaits, and I guess the future that I have no idea where to even begin will start. 

Well this wasn't how I pictured it....

If we were to go all the way back a year ago I never would have pictured myself up at 4 am, eating a bag of peanuts in bed, in the exact position I find myself today. 

Yesterday I went in for my last baby doctor appointment.  As everything seems to be going okay, the low platelets are still a concern.  I should get my actual counts back today, so everything we discussed yesterday was based off my counts of 39,000. 

I am a bit frustrated.  The sub situation has been a boil under my skin.   To take maternity leave, while being a classroom teacher is a disaster.  Especially if you work for a district that still has not released an approved sub list.  I think I have the long term sub, but he still is not in the system, and I have been estimated the first day he will be in the system is Tuesday.  Which means no real flow of changing of the guard, but a drastic Mrs. Larkin is gone, and Mr. Wiggins shows up.  I have written over 20 pages of sub notes, just to make sure the transition is as smooth as possible.  Those 20 pages don't have any academics on them, as the lesson plans are still in the works. 

So with Mr. Wiggins not able to start until Tuesday I had to work to find a sub for Monday.  So another teacher in the room, and another set of lesson plans to get together.  Then while at the doctors yesterday I was backed into a corner (yes, I really did feel like a lab rat being toyed with, and then forced in a direction against my will) and my last day in the classroom will be Thursday.  So I have to find another sub (that will be 4 different teachers, in 4 days) and write yet another day of specific lesson plans.  UGH!  I am so over this!

So I went into the doctors with the hope of talking him out of inducing Friday, or at least putting it off until the afternoon.  I NEVER wanted to play with nature.  I think things happen for a reason.  But I was forced off that track, when I became the health risk (something my mother reminds me of EVERY phone call I have called crying to her).  I know modern medicine created the remission that I was able to enjoy for 3 years, but I hate most medicine, I don't like going to the doctors, and I really don't like being told what others think is best for me.  So my thought was, if we were going to induce labor, which is taking over for nature, I wanted to do it on my terms.  Jacob is in police academy and they have told the recruits over and over again that they CAN NOT miss a day, or they will be recycled, which means they go to the next recruit class, and start over.  Essentially prolonging this already really long process we have been in since January. 

My basic thought throughout this pregnancy was if nature happened, and I went into labor, during a time that Jacob was gone with the Army, or he was unable to get there for some reason or another, I would deal with it.  It was nature. It was God's will.  There was a reason Jacob wasn't suppose to be there.  But here I am planning to take over for nature and essentially planning the date around a time that Jacob may not be able to be there.  That doesn't make any sense.  Jacob is the father of this child, and he deserves to be present as much as I do.  But my argument was not "touching" my doctors heart or changing his medical mind. 

His reasons for doing it Friday morning, is Monday is the due date.  Everyday we push it off is another day myself and Pat endure strong doses of steroids.  If we do it Friday we will have Saturday and Sunday to spend as a family, as Jacob does have the weekends off.  Then he lays down exactly why inducing will make sense in my case.  He will be able to monitor everything from the beginning, we can get my platelets under control before I start hard labor, I can be monitored closely, and if we go during the day I have the most nurses, and doctors at my disposal, verses if I went in the middle of the night, where staffing is less.  I get it.  I am an intelligent person, who can understand a good plan.  It is just this time I don't want a plan. 

I never pictured myself pregnant, but now that I have had 9 months to contemplate this predicament, I have had a bit of a different picture in place.  I visualized at some point my water breaking, getting contractions, and driving to the hospital.  Again, there were scenarios where Jacob was present, and some where he wasn't.  I never pictured going into the hospital completely feeling nothing, having Jacob drop me off, and him go to work. That isn't how one wants to bring a child into the world. 

So after the doctors yesterday I was left with the instructions to call this phone number at 5:30 in the morning on Friday.  They will tell me what time to come in to get into a room, and start getting ready.  So I don't really have a set time.  Jacob has to be to work at 7.  So we must devise a plan to try and get Jacob there.  The doctor suggested Jacob drop me off, go to work, and when the doctor thinks we have about an hour before the baby is born, we will call Jacob's academy and see if they do have a heart and let him come.  But the doctor let me know 3 times that there is no exact science, and Jacob still might not be able to actually make it in time. 

I was just not in a great mental state yesterday.  I have added at least 4 new items to do list before I leave the classroom, and I am faced with the reality that Jacob may not be there for the birth of his first child.  I do have two more full days where nature might take over, but I am so unsure what to hope for.

I am praying today I can get my mind wrapped around the new plan of action, and become at peace with it.  I am hoping the clouds open up, and I am able to see the bigger picture. 

Not in the mood

I am not in the mood to write.  I can blame it on the Prednisone which had me up all night with insomnia.  So here are basics...

Tuesday - Baby doc takes a CBC.  I am 3 in dilated.  Baby is still in a good position.  The doc thinks Pat is 6 - 7 pounds.  He says if I haven't gone into labor by Friday (Aug. 24) he wants to induce.  This was all when he was going off of my platelet numbers at 51,000.

Wednesday - I get an email with my counts which show the platelets at 39,000.  I just waited for the call.  The baby doc called and said he wanted me on Prednisone.  However, I was at school until super late, because of open house, so I didn't get the call in time to call my blood doc to find out how much to start taking.  SIDE NOTE - I also got a call, from the lady who I thought was going to be my sub, that made me very suspicious, and question her commitment. 

Thursday - Blood doc called and said I needed to start 50 mg, and we will re-evaluate next week.  We will discuss the weaning process after labor.  I took my first dose Thursday night.  SIDE NOTE - I receive an email from my sub's husband letting me know that he had just checked her into a mental institution.....I consider checking in right behind her....I was back to the drawing board with a week left at school to find a sub.

Friday - I make all my lesson plans and copies for the next week.  Even though I plan on being there I am being cautious.  I was able to talk with a sub who is interested with doing the long term position, but he is on vacation until Aug. 26....  The way I am looking at it is he will be able to show up on the 27th, and I guess that is the best I can do.  There will be no transition, but at least there will be a person in my room on the 27th...

So there we are.  I am in a fog today, and I feel like I could crawl out of my skin.  I HATE prednisone, and what it does.  I know with my platelets this low, I am left with no choice.  We are still considering an induction, but need to hash out the details.  I am going to be super picky if we take over what nature should do.  I will see the baby doc again on Tuesday.  I haven't had any braxton hicks, or any real contractions as far as I know. 

I have no more patience to sit on this computer another second....

I have to give credit to.....

our beautiful, lovely, quirky, eldest dog Lola. 

Lola has been in our family for over 5 years!  We adopted her a few months after we moved to Atlanta.  I wrote a blog about her here. 

Now Jacob and I allow both of our dogs to sleep on the bed with us.  This normally means they sleep at our feet so it is not that big of a deal.  But when my stomach started growing and I was no longer allowed to sleep on my stomach, I started having trouble getting comfortable to sleep.  One night I woke up to feel Lola stretched up next to my back.  At first I was upset that she was sleeping up by our heads, but then I relaxed my back, and she allowed me to put all of my weight on her. 

This came as a surprise. Lola is a bit quirky when it comes to being touched, especially in bed.  She is not the kind of dog you can push you feet underneath to warm them, as she hates to have anything touch her back.  She will immediately snap up, give you a dirty look, and lay down somewhere else.  She also hates for us to hug her close, or really touch her anytime she isn't expecting it.  She loves to cuddle, but her kind of cuddle is to lay across the top of your lap, and we are only to pet her head and belly.  She will get up in a huff if you don't follow the rules.

But that night she had wedged herself up against my back almost as if she knew my back needed the support.  I was so thankful for the relief that I didn't even say anything to her about laying up by our heads.  I slept the rest of the night.  Waking up refreshed I told Jacob about Lola almost just understanding what I needed.

Well since that night Lola has found her way back up against my back.  She doesn't mind when I literally put all of my weight on her.  I actually think she expects it.  She doesn't mind when I wake up at least 5-6 times a night to switch position, and try to get comfortable.  There have even been a couple of nights I have physically moved her, and she went with the flow. 

Now I could say this is just Lola becoming less high strung in her older age, or I can try to comprehend that this dog has a connection with exactly what I need in this time of my body changing.  I have always felt that dogs are extremly in tune with their owners and I think this is one of those times. 

I don't think I would wake up refreshed if it wasn't for this sweet girl taking on my extra weight.  So thank you Lola, for more than you will ever understand. 

I am a flippin' runner

The swelling of the feet hit a maximum last week during pre-planning.  My classroom is in the middle of the second level, so up and down stairs all day long, not to mention I am not at the top of the stairs, but up the stairs and down the hallway....  So a lot of walking, and a lot of being on my feet caused my feet to explode.  I barely fit my feet into my size and half bigger flats for our meet and greet on Friday morning.  I won't even go into details how long it took me to literally break the suction of them, to get them off my feet, two hours later. 

So after trying to get my feet into my running shoes, and not be able to slide half of my foot in, I sent a text to a running buddy.  I just let her know I literally couldn't get into my shoes, so I wouldn't be joining the group for our Saturday run.  It was Beth who then wrote back something sweet, like get better, and then followed it up with "make sure to wear your compression tights".  DUH!

I am a flippin' runner, who was dealing with what comes down to bad circulation, and I hadn't thought about the world of compression.  Runners will use compression tights, arm sleeves, and/or calf sleeves to help with circulation after a tough workout.  The compression helps beat gravity, and push blood around, which aids in the recovery of the muscles.  So HELLO! Why wasn't I utilizing the world of compression to help fight the swelling?  I have a pair of actual comprehension tights, but those were out of the questions as we are in the high 80 degrees each day. 

Off to Big Peach Running Company I went.  The poor girl who was helping me, just felt pity for my super swollen legs, but was able to measure my calfs, fit me for some calf sleeves, and keep a straight face as I struggled and broke out in a sweat just trying to get them over my elephant cankles. 

Sunday brought the perfect time to try them out.  Jacob and I were up early to go and cheer on Sara at her second triathlon.  As a spectator I was going to be on my feet most of the morning, and I was up to the challenge.  And the sleeves worked! 

I have worn them each day of school, and I know it is helping.  All the swelling isn't gone, but there is a huge difference in what my feet looked like at the end of the day.  At first I was worried about not looking professional, and then I thought "I am doing this so I can keep teaching, people will just have to understand."  So I rocked this outfit on Tuesday

I will leave this blog with a small follow up from the last one.  I can tell you my prescription for Prednisone remains unopened in the back of our bathroom closet.   My visit with the baby doctor yesterday left me with a spinning head.  He let me know he will not induce unless I am at 120,000 platelets.  So I have low platelets because of Pat, and I can't be induced because of low platelets.  I am just stuck in a circle of crazy medical problems at this point.  My baby doc also let me know he has never been through a labor with someone less than 50,000.  I swallowed my response of "There is a first time for everything"  Baby doc was in favor of me starting Prednisone immediately. 

They took my counts yesterday and apparently I am back up to 51,000.  The message from the doc today said hold off on the Prednisone.  I jumped for joy, and have been gloating about it since 4:30 this afternoon.  I secretly know this count was probably a fluke, the doc doesn't want me back until next week.  We will retake counts and reassess... I am not going to let them know what my instinct is telling me.  I mean I am listening to the doctor... holding off on the Prednisone....

Decision Point

I made it to the stop light between the blood doctor's office, and the baby doctors' practice.  It was at the red light I felt the warm, silent tears falling down my face.

I had been back at school all week.  I guess Pat is huge, as it is now the first thing people see or comment on.  We had a training on the southside of town in the morning, and I left early to make it back for my blood doctor appointment on the northside.

I wasn't really nervous about going back to the blood doctor.  I already knew my platelets were low.   I knew the Dr. Saleh was going to come up with a plan.  But somewhere, down deep, I knew I wasn't ready to face what that plan meant.

Dr. Saleh's nurse always comes in to see me first.  My bruised and swollen knuckles concerned her, but I am a petite person with a pound or more of water in my fingers.  The bruising comes from the pressure, and ITP complications.  My feet, which I am now calling elephant cankles, look bad, but don't hurt.  She looks at me with pity as she squeezes my legs, just for them to turn color, and show that I am storing enough water for a small nation.

Dr. Saleh comes in while we are just talking.  He shakes his head and looks down as he enters.  I swallowed hard.  I would not cry in this room.  I haven't cried in the 6 years I have been seeing Dr. Saleh, and I would not start now. 

He does his normal body checks.  He asks me to make a fist, which I know, he knows I can't do.  He checks my nose, which was cauterized a few years back to stop the daily nose bleeds.  He checks the back of my throat which he says is spotty.  That just shows thin blood.  No major bruises but some random cuts on both legs, I am still not sure how I got them.  Just him rubbing on one of the cuts, opens it, and he shakes his head as it shows him I am not clotting appropriately.  I already knew all of this.  I know all the signs, and what they mean.  Nothing has surprised me.

He steps back from the high table I am sitting, and leans against the counter.  He has my counts in front of him.  He let me know I am down to 43.  43,000....  To have a successful, uncomplicated labor I need to be at 50.  The following conversation took place

Me - "So what is the plan?"
Dr. - " We are going to do Prednisone."
Me - "Is there nothing else?  Please.  You know how much I hate that drug."  I had to swallow hard as I knew my eyes were starting to well up.
Dr. - "Amanda, you know your body won't react to anything else.  We have tried everything else.  We can't do a chemo right now.  You are doing everything in your lifestyle to combat it.  We only have a few more weeks.  We have to make sure you can complete labor."
Me - "I understand" My voice starts to shake "Prednisone is just such a terrible drug.  It did terrible things to me, physically and mentally.  What will it do to the baby?"
Dr. - "There are complications.  A few.  The pharmacist can give you a list. Most of them won't affect the baby because you are so far along.  Something like cleft palette won't be a concern because your baby has already developed further than that" At this point he could see I was getting stressed and upset.  I felt my own breathing shortening.  "Amanda, we have no options here.  We knew this would be a problem from the beginning.  You are so far along, you are lucky.  Let's just get through these last 3 weeks."

At this point I was just staring at the floor.   I had shut down. I was defeated.  I had nothing more to say.

Dr. Saleh left me with his nurse.  She was just trying to comfort me.  We talked it out a little bit.  I greatly appreciate the care, and heart they have there. 

I left the room.  It wasn't until I was on my way to the the baby doctor, to drop off all my paper work from Dr. Saleh, that I realized I was in a position I never wanted to be in.

Jacob and I didn't try for children for quite a few reasons.  Jacob never wanted to have children if it left a chance of me getting sick again.  I never wanted to bring an innocent child into the world if there was a chance it would be sick.  And yet here I am.  I am faced to choose between my own health and the health of an innocent, unborn child.  How can I be asked to make this choice?  How can I know what the right answer is?  Take Prednisone and possibly hurt the baby, don't take it, and I might have major complications.  If I take it, am I selfish, thinking only of myself?  Don't take it, and am I saying I am willing to put myself at risk for my unborn child?

I am so upset, sad, disappointed I am here, at this decision point. 

I didn't see any doctors at the baby doctors, just dropped off paper work.  I got back in the car, and drove myself back to my school.  The tears were still silently streaming down my face as I pulled into the parking lot.  I parked the car and looked at the passenger seat, and there sat the Prednisone prescription.  I am a strong person.  I sat back in my seat, and wiped my face.  I tucked my hair behind my ears, and grabbed my purse.  I opened the door.  As I walked through the parking lot, I held my head high.  I had made my decision.