Pregnancy induced sciatica: a little preview of my future, but I had no idea.

My Chronic Pain Battle: Fake Sciatica, Tendonitis, Bursitis, Muscle Strain, Whatever it is!

The first time I developed “sciatica”, whether it ever actually was sciatica or not, I have no idea…..I was pregnant with my very first baby. “It’ll go away once you have the baby,” they said. It hurt exactly the way it does now: across my lower back, down one side of my rear, down my leg, all the way to my foot.

Horrifying stuff, always at its worst when you’re lying in bed.

I couldn’t wait to go into labor. I knew they were handing out free epidurals (with insurance) there. That’s right. I didn’t see any trophies for delivering babies without an epidural, so I was sure to sign up. I’d give anything to finally not feel my hip.

But the joke was on me. The epidural didn’t work properly. I ended up with dead legs, but my uterus was not so much….I got to experience the pain of natural childbirth after all. Only, my legs were dead, so I couldn’t even move around to cope with it.

16 hours, and a great deal of vomiting and shaking later, and they finally ripped Joshua out of my pelvis with one of those baby vacuums.

The good news is that the ob/gyn folks were right about the pregnancy sciatica. It went away the day I gave birth.

Phew! I approached the next pregnancy, only one year later, with great fear and trepidation. Please don’t let it come back. Please oh please. That sciatica stuff was terrifying.

And it didn’t!

happy, healthy pregnancy

And then wonder of wonders, my epidural WORKED! This baby was stuck in my pelvis too, though. It took me 12 weeks to recover from that one, but still no sciatica. Yay!

Then two years after Caleb was born, out of the clear friggin blue sky, it did come back. Only this time I wasn’t pregnant. It was sudden, and I think it was brought on from this incident where Joshua jumped on my back. However, as I looked back at my records, I noticed that I reported it to the doctor as “gradual onset.” Who knows. My memory isn’t so hot anymore.

I just woke up one day and could not put a lick of weight on my left leg. It just buckled! This was different. With the pregnancy sciatica, it hurt to walk, but at least I could do it. I called my mom, she drove me to my doctor’s office while the boys went to preschool.

I took every shot they offered me, I did a little physical therapy, they ran blood work and an MRI, but no one really knew what was wrong. My chart said “tenosynovitis.”

My physical therapist said that I should not have any more children.

I wasn’t too worried. I was 28. I’d get better. Four months later, it was nothing more than a mild pinch that occasionally came and went. I was eventually able to even walk normally.

Feeling pretty good between babies 2 and 3. I figured the hip thing was a problem of the past, with just a little pinch leftover as a reminder.

I decided to have another baby. I gained a whopping 55 pounds, but still there was no sciatica. I was good.

I’m not sure when exactly, but somewhere between Daniel’s birth and Alan’s return from Afghanistan, the occasional pinch grew. It appeared more often and stayed longer.

Then there was another big event. I’ve noticed people in the chronic pain community call this a “flare up”. I use that phrase with reluctance, as no one has ever, as yet, been able to figure out what exactly is flaring up. Six years later, this now irritates me to no end.

This was around the time of the 3rd flare up. Cute pic, though!

The third major flare up occurred after Alan had just returned from Afghanistan, and the boys and I had just returned to Virginia. But this time my shoulder, back (It felt like my ribcage), and neck decided to join in the fun.

It was like the entire right side of my body and my neck were trying to kill me. And right at that time, my pinky nail went white. Solid white and loose. Was I losing my nail??? Weird!!!! Why?????

I could hardly turn my neck because of the pain between my neck and my shoulder, and worst of all, it hurt to inhale. I had to breathe carefully. Breathe too deeply, and I’d pay for that.

The military clinics were useless. U-s-e-l-e-s-s. The first doctor that I saw handed me a prescription for muscle relaxers, said, “Everyone has back pain,” and sent me on my way.

Thanks.

The second time, because you’ll try even a useless clinic when you can’t inhale all the way, the doctor was a little better. She told me not to take the muscle relaxers, referred me to physical therapy, and took x-rays. She also did this periformis release technique on my rear end, and all of the pain moved a little to the left. That was sort of promising.

She said the neck/ inhaling/ shoulder pain thing was strained muscles.

I tried the physical therapy clinic. They never had any available appointments during the hours that I could get childcare for my two pre-schoolers, so that was a dead end.

I’ll never forget my low point. It was 2012. I put Daniel to bed for a nap, and I put in a movie to keep the kids occupied but safe. There were three little boys at this point, and I laid on my bed, stared at the ceiling, cried, and prayed for help.

Then the doorbell rang.

To be continued……You can’t do this story justice in one post!

Read Part II here.

The post My Chronic Pain Battle: Fake Sciatica, Tendonitis, Muscle Strain, Whatever appeared first on Stories of Our Boys.

Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco

Almost two weeks ago, I set out with my four boys to fly from California to Georgia for Christmas.

We managed to arrive in one piece, with all of our luggage, but that was not the miracle.

Or maybe that was also a miracle. ha!

As I shepherded the four of them, plus myself, our five back-packs, and countless electronic gadgets through the security machines, we followed the rules very nicely, and I counted the heads of my children 300 times.

“Is this medicine 3mL?” the agent asked me, referring to my son’s seizure medication.

“Oh, I have no idea, but he has to have it.” (Don’t mess with Mama.)

“Yes, of course,” he replied.

Liquids and laptops have to go into separate security bins for the people to screen, so we segregated out all of my things.

“I’m flying alone with these four boys,” I made sure the agent knew.

For this to work, I needed a little extra assistance.

“Oh. Okay,” then he turned to the metal detector lines next to us, and he said, “Hold the lines.” The other passengers stepped back while they ushered my ducklings and I through the metal detectors, as a solid group. I was thrilled! I have never gotten through airport security so quickly!

The boys all grabbed their things, I grabbed my things, and we were on our way.

We only had to wait about 30 minutes at our gate before boarding began. JD and Daniel were happy to stand and look at the planes out the window. Caleb and Joshua were sitting in chairs, completely absorbed in their electronic devices. I chatted a bit with other folks near the windows.

The boarding agent called for all passengers who “need extra time or assistance in boarding.”

As soon as I heard it, I wasted no time whatsoever.   I pulled JD and Daniel down from their window ledge, and said, “Time to go, boys!”

They jumped up, zipped their packs, and followed me.

I rushed my 4 little ducklings along, and as I approached the boarding area, there was the usual multiple clumps of people waiting for their turn. I looked at the young man standing in the front of said line. I didn’t want to appear rude by just shoving my way in front of him.

“Are you one of the people needing the extra help?” I asked him.

He chuckled, “No, no.”

“Oh. Well, I sure am! C’mon, boys!” I said as I stepped in front of him, followed by my adorable straight line of four little fellas.

In fact, as I was just about to hand our five tickets to the ticket lady, JD excitedly ran straight on ahead, right past the ticket counter, right past me, and right on down the jetway….or whatever you call that hallway thing that leads to the airplane.

Yikes! I quickly ran over, scooped him up, and apologetically went back to the ticket lady.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “We’re with the needing the extra help group.”

She nodded. “Five?”

“Yes.”

“Go ahead.”

“Thank you!!”

No sooner than we had gotten ourselves arranged in our seats, I had a terrible. horrifying. realization.

I dug through my book bag, looking for my laptop, but wait. Where was my laptop?

Uh-oh….in the bin…beside…the medicines…and JD’s sippy cup. I did a quick check. Yes, all of those things were missing, and I knew exactly where I had left them. At security.

By the way, that’s not the kind of medication you can just quit cold turkey. There’d be headaches to suffer from that sort of thing.

Nooooooo! So I did what I always do when I have a problem.

That’s right. I called Alan. Poor Alan. He was already on the highway headed home. He said that I should ask the crew if they could help me retrieve all that stuff before we took off.

Yes, I should think of these things on my own, but no, it will never happen. I am not the person you want around in an emergency.

I flagged down the flight attendant. I told her what had happened as quickly as I could.

Raquel was her name, and she is one of my new favorite people. It was a Christmas miracle, I tell you.

“Okay! I’ll tell them we have to have this medication before we take off, or he will have a seizure on the plane!!” Raquel said.

She rushed off. I continued helping JD and Daniel get settled. I said a prayer or two, and I decided not to fret. No need. Fretting cannot help. Only Providence, Raquel, and the TSA could help us now.

And just like that, she was back, carrying all of it!

The Macbook, the meds, and the sippy cup, all present and accounted for!

Pure gratitude and elation! I was so relieved! I thanked her profusely. I handed her a wad of cash as I deplaned in Georgia, I wrote Delta airlines and told them that Raquel deserves a promotion and a pay raise.

Thank you, Heavenly Father, and thank you, Raquel!

*******The Christmas Crash**********

My parents were waiting at the airport to pick us up, and I don’t know what I would have done without them. The next day my persistent, chronic, manageable level of hip pain morphed into a roaring, uncontrollable monster, and the rest of Christmas vacation has been a blur for me. I do not know what is wrong with my hip. I did get a steroid shot. I thought, at the very least, it will help my bursitis, and it did help for a few days.

But then I took a four-hour car trip, and the problem is back. I can’t sit down but for a few minutes, lying in bed at night is the worst, stairs are torture, but walking around doesn’t bother me at all.

I will be returning to California with a newly heightened resolve to solve my hip problem, but it is also one of those things that I will have to trust God for. Thankfully, I am in good hands. The Lord cares about our pain.

Hebrews 4:15

15 For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.

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