Iron Poisoning & Morning Sickness

Once I knew I had a bun in the oven, I decided to be a responsible mom-to-be and immediately went to the local natural foods store and purchased some prenatal vitamins.

This I will never do again.

One thing I have since learned is that there are no regulations on what can be termed "prenatal" vitamins.  So, whatever amounts of various vitamins the manufacturers care to include, they can and do.

Within a week of beginning to take these vitamins, I moved the first stage of my belongings to Andrew's apartment--and I forgot to bring my special vitamins.  So, I went out and bought some more of a different brand, also from the all-natural section of the store.  A day or so later, I was having serious pains in my digestive tract.  We weren't sure of the cause at first, but it seemed like it might be a passing thing, so we continued on our 2+ hour journey to collect more of my horde of items from my old apartment.  After arriving there, we learned that it may have been related to constipation, so we got some laxatives.

Pain was constant and intense.  Several doses of laxatives later, and about 48 hours into the pain with no relief, we decided to go to the ER.  I had no health insurance.

At first, everything seemed to go well.  The medical professionals wanted to run tests to try and ascertain the status of the baby.  (We did not yet know the vitamins were the cause of my pain.)  An inept almost-nurse stabbed me several times over trying to take a blood sample.  Then I was catheterized.  They reverse-filled my bladder with water so that an ultrasound image could show my uterus.  [I was later billed $50 for a pharmacy item, which turned out to be that bag of water!]

Then I got to see Jackson for the first time!  He was so, so tiny, having only gestated about 5 weeks at that point.  Just the tiniest little flicker on a black and white monitor showed Andrew and I our little darling's heartbeat and a body smaller than the tip of my pinky finger.

Shortly afterward, the catheter was removed without the little air bubble that held it in fully deflated (youch!  hurt to pee for weeks!).  A doctor appeared for the first time and probed my belly for a few seconds, then left without introducing himself or even offering a diagnosis.  I was ejected from the hospital with no clue as to the origin of my problem and forced to sign papers swearing that I would pay the bills they would send me.

They handed me a prescription for more laxatives and sent me out the door.

The next day I was due to start a new job near my new home.  I had to call and delay my job start.  The second day, I decided I still needed treatment.  I was rejected from the health department pending paperwork, then I was rejected from a walk-in clinic after they finally realized that I was pregnant.  "We don't serve your kind here."

Finally, I ended up back at another ER.  I waited for triage in a filthy room while a pair of hookers fought to get their drunk pimp allowed to stay inside with them.

After a few hours waiting at the ER, I finally got a nurse (a very competent man with a good sense of humor) and then my favorite person of the month:  Dr. Prabhu.  The doc was a young man with thinning hair, but he really knew his stuff.  He explained to us about the 3 types of iron used in vitamin pills, why I was in so much pain (my stomach lining was missing much of its mucous), and then he helped me out.  I was so dehydrated from being barely able to ingest anything for days, plus all the laxatives, so they stuck me on a saline drip.  He gave me Maalox and some directions for other relief, and I finally started to feel better.

Nervous about the prospect of losing my new job, I tried to work right away.  This was abig  mistake, as I began morning sickness that day and still was exhausted and in pain.  My new employer and I quickly agreed that I was in no condition to work and that a replacement was best found.  The next 8 weeks I spent on bed rest, for the most part.

The oddest part of the whole experience (besides the doubt everyone expressed that iron could be so unforgiving) was the reaction Andrew and I had towards Dr. Prabhu.  For whatever reason, we both agreed that if we were zombies, his head would look extremely tasty--a delicacy of sorts.

The first ER visit was more like something out of a sitcom.  My mother had been present, at my request, as she was the only one outside of Andrew who knew about my pregnancy yet.  With Andrew on my left and Mom on my right, we expressed our sincere amazement at how I had been impregnated so easily in the first place.  My brave fiance then declared that it was my fault, telling my mother that I should have listened to him.  After all, "I told her not to swallow!"