16 months, 17 (18?) weeks, one day at a time

If Taylor had lived, she would be 16 months.  My life would be SO different.  I can't even fathom... Sleepless nights, baby toys strewn about, constantly having to keep an eye on her, baby pictures on the wall, hooded bath towels, diapers, baby food, sippy cups, my first attempt at breast feeding, car seats, blues clues, the list goes on and on.  So much of that little little kid stage, I don't even remember.  What would it all be like with a little one in the house (in the car, in the family)? 

If lil man would have lived, I'd be 17 weeks (?) along.  Well, according to my dates, I'd be 18 weeks today.  According to the ultrasound, I'd have been 17 weeks yesterday.  That's actually something I forgot to mention; according to a lot of the information I found, triploidies tend to be smaller- significantly so, even from the get go.  Perhaps this is why he was measuring 6 days behind on the ultrasound.  That convolutes things for me, though, because it makes it harder to know how far I really was, what date to consider my due date, etc.  I think Ryan and I kind of agreed that it made sense to go off the ultrasound, but I also KNOW there was no way that date could've been correct.  However, since that's what the ultrasound was measuring and since it was such a cool date, I'm cool going with it- New Years Day, 2013.  According to the first date of my last period, he would have been due the day after Christmas.  This also makes it kinda tough to pick out birthstone jewelry- should I have banked on December or January?  Who knew one week in the life of a baby who couldn't stay would make such a difference?  Yet, it does.  At least to me.  The due date and the date you say goodbye are all you get; not having one be definite is sort of devastating.  Was my date right, or theirs (I'd think it was likely in the middle)?  Would he have been a Christmas baby or a New Years one (either way would have been so cool)?  Should I be 17 weeks or 18 weeks pregnant?  Did I lose him at 7 weeks or 8?  A week can go by in a blink, but now it makes all the difference, and I just don't know.

What I do know is that I said goodbye May 15: 10 weeks and 1 day ago.  I haven't had a big breakdown (yet).  I HAVE had more moments where I'm offended just by the MENTION of a baby.  IT HURTS.  It's so hard and I have no idea when (or if, or how) I'll get to the point where I'm... ok.  I don't even want to be NEAR (like, within a mile radius) of a child under 2 or a pregnant woman.  Especially not one of those dippy broads who's stomach is on display like some beacon in the night, while she smiles and "glows" like, "oh, isn't it sooooo great that I'm pregnant?"  I HATE those oblivious, happy, isn't-it-great that I'm pregnant ladies.  I seriously wish I had some type of glasses I could wear that just blocked out little children and preggo ladies so I didn't even have to deal with their existence.  Ridiculous, I know.  I feel like a 3 year old even thinking it, but there it is. 

But, I've made it almost 2 years since we said good bye to Taylor and 2 months since we said good bye to our little boy, and I have the "what ifs" of the idea of a 16 month old and an 18 week (or so) pregnancy, and here I am.  I am alive.  It's all happened one day (sometimes one second) at a time.  I guess I've just got to keep taking it breath by breath...

It's A (Triploid) Boy!

He was a boy.  Well, an XXY male.  Why XXY you ask?  Because he was (probably) a triploid.  A what?  Yeah, I had never heard of triploidy, either.  Because the initial genetic testing yielded no results (which we were warned may happen), the doctor ordered a different test, called FISH, to "rule out" the 3 most common fatal trisomies, 13, 18, and 21, and also for the X&Y to be looked at.  Instead of ruling these problems out, ALL 3 (4, with the sex chromosomes) were ruled IN as "abnormal", with 3 sex chromosomes and 3 chromosomes on 13, 18, AND 21.  Conclusion?  "These studies demonstrate three signals for FISH probes specific for chromosome 13, 18, and 21 in this sample.  Two signals for the X chromosome and a single Y signal are also present.  These results are consistent with a triploid fetus... Triploidy is observed in approximately 20% of chromosomally abnormal spontaneous abortuses."  What the heck does this mean?  It means somehow, through either an error in cell division, an egg which somehow had 46 chromosomes already, or by a single egg being fertilized by 2 sperm, the baby LIKELY had 69 chromosomes instead of the normal human 46.  Many people have heard of trisomies (like 21, down syndrome), which is an extra chromosome at ONE point, this special lil' guy had a full extra set of chromosomes (most likely).  I keep saying "most likely" because we didn't get a karyotype of the baby, JUST the markers for these specific chromosomes, which all showed an extra; therefore, he LIKELY had an extra full set of chromosomes, making him a triploid.

We have yet to speak with a genetic counselor about what this all means, but from what I could find (you KNOW I've been researching everything I can find about this), it is rare, unlikely to happen again, and not inherited or anything we could have prevented.  Moving forward, this almost makes things more confusing for me, though.  Not because of what we know about him, but because of what we DON'T know about Taylor.  All I know about Taylor is that she didn't live.  I don't know if something was "wrong" with her and I never will.  Don't get me wrong, it's AWESOME to have an answer this time.  But not knowing what, why, how, when with my first loss makes it scary to try again.  There are just still so many unknowns in the mix.  Could we be one of the VERY few unlucky who has this happen twice?  (The odds of that are like being struck by lightning twice- not good).  Was something different wrong with Taylor?  Was she totally fine and we just don't KNOW what went wrong?  Was MY health a factor in one or both losses?  I read somewhere that autoimmune disease can CAUSE genetic abnormalities- did this happen to both of my babies, and will it happen to another?  Then there's the whole "what the heck is wrong with me, anyway?" issue.  We SUSPECT that I have some sort of autoimmune related illness, that doesn't necessarily make it so.  So yeah- ugh!  Kinda SUPER frustrating!  At this point, I'm basically waiting for a sign from God one way or the other.  I know that before, I sounded hell bent on having a healthy baby but now I. JUST. DON'T. KNOW. ANYMORE.  After Taylor I always said it "doesn't feel up to me."  Now, it REALLY doesn't feel up to me.  So, I'm just kinda waiting for some clear sign either way.  If God wants me to have a baby (or, please, no, do this again) then I am up for heeding his call.  If not, not.  I really don't want to do this again, AND I'm starting to have some of those "I don't know if I want to start all over" doubts.  So as glad as I am to have ANSWERS this time (and did I mention?! he's a BOY! so super stoked to know), I AM LOST!  Please pray for me, because I really, really, really need some help trying to decide what to do moving forward.

I'm Not the Person...

...to be complaining to that you're unhappy with the sex of your (healthy, living) unborn baby!

I hate to do so many complainer posts, but JEEZ!!!  Obviously, this is geared toward one person, so I'll use my disclaimer here that I'm PRETTY sure she'll never read this.  On the flip side, if you're one of those jackasses who does this, DON'T! 

It happened like this.  I got a random text from an old friend who did the typical back and forth, "how are you?  What's up?  What's new?  How are the kids?"  (I knew she was pregnant so I tried to avoid that topic, and I knew she DIDN'T know about the second baby.  But she should've known about the first).  Then it came, "I'm due blah blah time."  I TRIED.  So hard.  "Oh, cool, I have a friend who's kid was born that day, she's awesome.  Do you know what you're having?"  "A horrible boy."  STILL, I tried.  I even gave her the benefit of the doubt that she tried to write little, or awesome, or something other than horrible.    "Boys are fun!"  I replied.  "That's what people say, but it doesn't make it any better."  Welp, that did it!  But still, I was nice.  "Well, after losing 2, I'd be happy with any baby who could stay, but I remember thinking boys would be weird when I was pregnant with Trent, but he's been nothing but awesome."  No reply.  Made me laugh, kinda.

But this is what I really wish I would've said.

"Look, you selfish ass, lots of people can't have babies, or have trouble having babies, or would do ANYTHING to have a baby.  Some people lose babies, and go through hell wondering why they're not pregnant.  And they definitely DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOU COMPLAIN BECAUSE YOU'RE HAVING A PERFECT LITTLE CREATURE WHO JUST HAPPENS TO BE THE "WRONG" SEX SO SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GROW UP AND BE HAPPY THAT YOU GET TO HAVE A HEALTHY BABY WHEN LOTS OF PEOPLE DON'T!"

Just sayin'

It's Out of my Control, so How Can I Adjust My Reaction

I see pregnant ladies or babies, and do the opposite of what most people do when they see one.  I scowl, glare, silently detest them for crossing my path.  My mind does the why me?  How come I'm not still pregnant?  It's not fair!  (Basically, WAH WAH!)  I can't control the fact that these people exist, so how the heck do I react better?  How can I control MY reactions to them and not be so damn upset?  Seriously, especially to other BLMs, HOW how how can I not be so mad at babies or women who are about to have one?  How can I change my reaction to them?  HELP!

'Nother Blog

I started a new blog.  It's about chronic pain.  It's mostly so I can try to keep track of what's wrong with me each day, but I also hope that maybe it will help others.  Plus, I like to think it'll be full of fun anecdotes and helpful tidbits about health.  Check it out, if you want, at http://ouchiemommy.blogspot.com

Welp, Went to the Doctor Today and... NOTHIN'. Yet.

Going to the doctor was discouraging and uneventful.  We didn't start the recurrent miscarriage panel on me because the doctor brought up cost.  Well, frankly, I don't care much about the cost, but it's not only up to me and right now we can't afford a big unexpected expense, so we're going to see what insurance will cover first and work it out from there.  It's annoying that I can't figure out what's going on because we have to be concerned with finances.  The way the medical system works is totally fucked.  Just putting that out there. 

It was also discouraging because, as nice as the doctor seems, she wasn't very positive about the outcome of doing the panel.  Basically, she seemed to think the outcome may not produce answers and used the word "tricky" several times.  The test on the baby is "tricky,"  the panel might be "tricky" as often everything turns up "normal" (what DOES that mean, medically, anyway?  the range of "normal" results for any given thing is ridiculously large), even if something wrong did turn up with my results, dealing with it or fixing it or making it better next time can be "tricky."  She also said that "some physicians might say 'what's the point?'"  REALLY?  The point, for me, is not having to keep losing a baby who once had a heartbeat.  Isn't that a good enough reason?

Also, they had not yet yielded any results on the baby.  I REALLY REALLY hope this doesn't mean that we won't be able to find anything out.  I'm pretty torn.  If we find out nothing, then I'll still have billions of questions... forever.  If we find out something was wrong with the baby, then, well, something was wrong with my baby.  If we find out the baby was OK, then we'll wonder why this happened, or if there was something we could've done to prevent it.  It's hard, but I'd like to know either way.  It won't change what happened, but a little closure would be great.

We'd like to try again but at this point, I don't know what to do.  We're not getting any younger, the kids aren't getting any younger, and I don't want to push my luck and find out how many times I can deal with going through this.  It's so frustrating and upsetting.  I know I feel discouraged.

Contest

I just entered a writing contest with the following story.  It's long, but I like it :)

My name is Alex, and I have always enjoyed writing as my preferred outlet of self-expression.  I am much better at writing my feelings than I am at speaking them.  In high school, I took several semesters of creative writing class, and my teacher particularly praised my poetry.  In college, I added English as a major midway through my junior year, as most of the elective courses I took had to do with reading and writing.  In grad school, I’d feverishly bust out 15 page papers in a single day.  In September of 2010, I began blogging about being a mother, and just this week I began a new blog about life with chronic pain.  I also have several personal journals that I enjoy writing in but do not make as much time as I wish I could for.  Most importantly, for as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a mother, to three children.  I wanted them all to be about 3 years apart from the next, just like a set of my cousins had been.  I began to get my wish when God blessed me with a little boy in 1999, and then a beautiful baby girl just a week before Christmas in 2002.  Since I was very young and not in a solid relationship, I doubted my dreams for a third child would ever come true.  Then, when the children were 5 ½ and 2 ½, I met a wonderful man, Ryan.  15 months later we were married in a beautiful ceremony in the mountains of Colorado, light snow falling in the background.  I would have liked to have had another child right away, but month after month passed without a positive pregnancy test, and we eventually put the dream of having a child together on the back burner.  We assumed that maybe we couldn’t have one together, for whatever medical reason.  I knew Ryan would have liked to have a biological child of his own, but he viewed my children as his and we were both content.

                To our surprise and delight, in July of 2010, I suddenly found myself pregnant.  We had been married nearly four years.  Within a week, we had told his parents, my mom, our siblings, and the kids.  Everyone was thrilled, especially our moms and our daughter, who immediately began suggesting names and asking if the baby could sleep in her room.  The thought of “starting over” with a new baby when the kids would be 8 and 11 was a bit daunting, but we were both extremely happy and neither of us could contain our excitement.  The pregnancy began to progress well; I have chronic pain, and for the first time in years, I just felt great all the time.  On July 27^th, my 29^th birthday, I got to have my first ultrasound.  The baby was a little less than 8 weeks and the heartbeat looked amazing: 169 beats per minute.  I had never had an ultrasound with my kids that early in the pregnancy and knowing that there was something the size of a pinto bean growing inside of me with a heartbeat of its own was the best birthday gift ever.  I do not remember ever being so happy, content, and excited.  The only thing that put a damper on the appointment was when the ultrasound tech said, “Your chance of miscarriage is only about 5 percent.”  I remember thinking it was weird that she would even say that, OF COURSE I was not going to have a miscarriage.  That was something that only happened to other people, and I (erroneously) believed that miscarriage was some fluky thing that was no big deal. 

                Unfortunately, about 2 weeks later, I began spotting.  The afterhours on-call doctor assured me that many pregnant women bleed or spot and told me that since we’d had a scan and seen the heartbeat, odds were good that everything was going to be fine.  He told me to take it easy and said if I was still worried, I could call the office in the morning and have another ultrasound.  I was very worried but rested as he told me to do, and the next day, I felt pretty good.  I did not have any more bleeding at all and I took the kids shopping for school supplies.  The following day also went well, until about 5 in the evening when I went to work and began lightly spotting again.  Again, it stopped all the next day, until work, when it began to intensify slightly.  I went home early and tried to call the doctor, but he was assisting a delivery and we never did end up being able to connect.  The next morning, I made an appointment, completely excited as I knew the baby would be fine.  I took myself out to lunch before the appointment and I just wanted to gush to every person I saw that I was going to have a baby.  I was THAT excited about the pregnancy.   My mom happened to call me that day and when I told her what was going on, she insisted on coming to the appointment with me.  We chatted in the waiting room, still both excited at the prospect of a new baby in the family.  I finally got called back to the ultrasound room and had to explain to the tech why I was there.  She began the ultrasound, and I was so excited when I saw my little baby on that big screen in front of me.  She began measuring and said, “9 weeks, 4 days,” which I thought was quite odd because I should have been at least 10 weeks.  Then I noticed that the heart was not beating like it had been before and I wondered if she needed to do something special with the equipment to make the heartbeat show up.  Just as it dawned on me that things were not ok, she said, “There’s no heartbeat, and no movement,” sorrow in her voice and sadness in her eyes.  I was in shock.  I drew in a deep breath and said, “OK.”  My mom began sobbing.  All I could think was that I wish I hadn’t told everyone, because now I would have to untell them; mostly I didn’t want my daughter to be upset. 

                After we lost the baby I was angry at the world.  I wanted to walk up to pregnant women and punch them.  I thought it was terribly unfair and the spiteful side of me would think, “how come SHE gets to be pregnant, how come SHE has a baby?”  But it was not up to me.  I began blogging about the experience and how I felt and lots of people I know supported me and even opened up about their experiences with losing babies.  Losing this child, no matter how early, taught me a lot about being a good person when others are going through a hard time.  I always felt for people who were going through bad things but I was also a person who “didn’t know what to say.”  I learned that just saying ANYTHING and being caring and sincere is much better than nothing at all.  I also made new friends who were going through similar experiences, and that made coping a bit easier.  But the biggest, most comforting and helpful thing was turning to God.  Without his love to comfort me and without standing on the solid foundation of faith in Him, I might never have made it through the experience.  Without his love and encouragement, I might never have been able to look back at the experience and see it as positive, but I do now.  The first pregnancy test, telling everyone and seeing their excitement, the first ultrasound with the good heartbeat were all are amazing gifts that can never be taken away.

A couple of months after losing the baby, I began to have an extreme flair up of my chronic pain, and we still have not gotten to the bottom of what is causing it.  However, with writing and praying, I have the courage to face each day and conquer challenges.  I began doing martial arts with the kids and while it is very physically demanding, it is also rewarding.  I have learned to challenge myself and face new obstacles, but without God’s encouragement, I wouldn’t have the strength to face any of it.  Since losing the baby, we have begun going to church every week, I have begun reading the bible and other daily affirmations, and we began listening to Christian radio station.  This experience gave my whole family the opportunity to get to know and love God.  The kids love the Christian music, and it is nice to give them something positive to focus on in a world that has its eyes and hearts focused on things that are not important.  It has also given me the courage to face adversity with a new attitude.  When I unexpectedly found out I was pregnant again on April 21, 2012, my husband and I were happy.  We knew that this baby was a gift and whether or not it would grow and get to stay with us was out of our hands.  I worried some, but I also let myself enjoy being pregnant.  I liked the symptoms of pregnancy, even though some were uncomfortable.  The slight nausea and achiness was affirmation that I had a baby growing inside of me.   I let myself dream of what having a new baby would be like, and I took trips to the baby stores to look at all the cool baby gadgets and cute clothes and room décor (a lot has changed in the 10 years since I was pregnant with my daughter).  I checked out baby and pregnancy books at the library.  I’d be lying if I said it was all fun, no worries, but I trusted God, and my husband and I were able to talk about our feelings with the pregnancy and the loss and we grew closer because of it.   At our first appointment, the doctor told me I had blood in my uterus and said my chances of miscarriage were “slightly” elevated.  We both hoped and prayed that this pregnancy would be different and we looked forward to our appointment in two more weeks to see how things were going.  We also knew that the results were out of our hands and that all we could do was pray and trust God.  Three days later, we told our families via ultrasound photos in mother’s day cards.  We didn’t expect everyone to start crying, but they did (even Ryan’s dad), and it was fun to share the excitement with everyone.  The day after that, this child also went home to be with God and his or her brother or sister.  I only made it about 7 weeks this time.  We were due on New Year’s Day, 2013.  While we are all sad that another child could not join our family, we know that God is still there and His presence helps to dull our pain.  Sometimes I still get that jealous pang when I see a pregnant woman or a baby.  I am only human, after all, and it hurts missing out on the wonderful experience of growing a new life to love.  But we know without a doubt that those two precious children are not gone forever.  We will see them again in another wonderful life.  And while whether we are given another chance at becoming parents or not remains to be seen, nothing can change the fact that Ryan and I are the parents of four amazing children.  God has blessed us and held us in our times of sorrow. We will continue to have faith in Him as he has shown us all the positives that come with trusting in Him. 

According to the ultrasound, I'd have been 12 weeks today. I lost the baby 5 weeks ago. The pregnant lady I always waited on on tuesdays has had her baby but she wasn't in today (thank goodness). I feel sad. It was over so quickly it is almost like it didn't happen. Except I saw the beating heart, we had the hopes, dreams, and plans, and it DID happen. I'm sad.

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Update

So, I don't really know where to start...

First of all, I'm kinda not as sad this time.  I don't know how to describe it.  Maybe that emotion just hasn't hit yet, or maybe I haven't dealt with it yet.  I am not saying I'm not sad by any means, but somehow I just kind of feel... ok.  I feel bad about that, sort of.  I don't know how to put it into eloquent words.  I guess in a way I just felt more prepared.  Not necessarily that I expected (and I certainly didn't WANT) this to be the outcome, but the first time I just felt totally blind sighted and so upset by the unfairness of it all.  This time we both felt more prepared that this was a possible outcome.  I had A LOT of hope that it would all go well and I was so happy that I was having more symptoms with this pregnancy.  When it didn't work out, AGAIN, it felt unfair, but it wasn't as much of a shock.

I saw the baby come out this time.  It makes me sad just thinking about it.  The only good is that we saved the embryo and MAYBE the doctors can test it.  It's been 4 weeks (tomorrow) since our follow up appointment, and she said the testing was delicate but they could TRY.  She said it would take 2-3 weeks and we still haven't heard anything.  I hope they hurry up.  I hope they'll be able to tell us SOMETHING, anything.  It'd be REALLY nice to know if it would have been a boy or a girl.  I'd love to know for sure so that I don't have to rely on a "feeling" about it, or refer to him or her as "it" forever.  I guess Ryan and I can talk about names after we find out anything, IF we find out anything.  If not, we will just have to rely on our gut instincts; which is hard because he's sure it's a he and I think it's a she. 

I got my period the other day.  I forgot how hard it was, that first one after losing a pregnancy.  It's like confirmation that it's over, REALLY over, even though you know that already.  It kind of feels like your body is betraying you, or throwing the loss of the pregnancy in your face.  I also think it's kind of sad and upsetting that it came SO quickly after losing the baby.  It only took a month which seems REALLY fast to get back to normal- it kind of feels like my body's way of saying that this pregnancy really was not meant to be. 

Last time I had gone to a different doctor's office and they never did follow up with me.  This time we went in 6 days after and I think the nurse thought I didn't care because I had been so calm on the phone when I talked to her a couple days after.  I cared so, so much, of course, but I just didn't have as many tears or as much numbness this time around (still totally convinced that it coming- sometime)!  I HATED that appointment.  I don't know if it's standard, but I thought it was TERRIBLE that the doctor put the ultrasound screen facing me so I could see that everything was empty inside where there had been my little baby just a little over a week before.  I don't know why they have to do that.  As stupid as it was, I still had a TEENY amount of hope that maybe I was wrong about what I saw come out, or that maybe if I wasn't wrong, there was still a little alive baby inside.  But there was nothing, just a stupid empty womb where a little bitty beating heart should have been.  I wish they didn't make the mother watch the screen.  They also said they couldn't return the embryo, which was really hard for me.  I really would have liked to have been able to bury it and plant some kind of flowers or bush or tree there but in the end, having a chance at getting some answers won out.

This time I don't hate new moms, babies, and pregnant ladies AS much.  I still think, sometimes, "why does SHE get to be pregnant?"  or "how come THEY have a new baby?"  but mostly it just kinda makes me sad.  It makes me feel like I'm missing out on that much more.  Getting pregnant took some of the sting away from losing Taylor; not because anyone could replace her, but because it was like this exciting little glimmer of, "look, I can be pregnant, too, I can create a new life, we CAN experience this excitement."  Now I've lost doubly, we SHOULD have a 15 month old and I SHOULD be just starting my 2nd trimester of pregnancy.

The upside (I guess) is that it makes me more determined to have a baby who gets to stay with us.  I don't know why because these were both surprise babies, but now we really have a desire to see this whole process through.  I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that we know we can at least GET pregnant.  I REALLY hope they can find a way to help us get and STAY pregnant sometime in the future so that we can know the joy of what having a child together would be like.  I'm desperate to know what we've missed out on with these 2 losses.

The Second Time

yeah, this is going where you think it is, if you're guessing by the title that this is going to be another unhappy ending story.

On Friday, April 20, it hit me that i was on day 31 of my cycle, and that, for me, meant borderline late.  Ryan and I had been fighting so i didn't really mention it, and assumed i'd be starting my period anytime.  When it hadn't come the next day, i dug out my last pregnancy test and took it.  i was terrified.  i was excited at the prospect of it being positive, i was scared at the prospect of it being positive. i could barely look.  i felt queasy.  i set the test down a couple feet away and when i finally had the courage to look over, i just saw one line.  negative.  my first thought was, "ok, well at least i don't have to face going to the doctor" (yeah, kinda demented, i know.  there is really something THAT wrong with me and i am really THAT scared to address it).  i picked the test up and then noticed the other line.  2 pink lines, one slightly more faint. positive.  i couldn't believe it.  i told Ryan, and he just smiled.  it wasn't good timing,  he just had to get expensive dental work done and we had unexpectedly ending up owing a sizable amount on our taxes.  i've been exhausted and burned out at my job, but none of those things stopped us from being happy.  well... cautiously happy.  i'd keep thinking "i'm having a baby! (i hope)"  i hated that little voice, but i couldn't help being apprehensive.  according to my dates (which i kept good track of), i was due december 26, not adjusting for cycle length (looking back on my dates and counting from cycle to cycle, there wasn't a good average, sometimes my cycle was 31 days, sometimes only 27).  we scheduled an appointment for may 11 and the waiting began.

i didn't tell many people, the ones i did tell were sworn to secrecy.  i wanted to shout from the rooftops but then i didn't want to tell till the baby came out.  i was so freaked out.  every time i went to the bathroom, i looked for blood, practically panicking at the thought.  of course everything was fine.  then on thursday the 10th (the day before my appointment), i got home from work and took a nap.  i got up and noticed a TINY amount of brownish spotting.  it was so light (amount and color) that i had to double check, but that was definitely what i was seeing.  i tried not to freak and to just wait for our appointment.  i knew they were going to do an ultrasound so i tried to just be calm and wait.

when we went in the next morning i was so nervous.  all i could think about was the last time, laying on that stupid table wondering where the heartbeat was.  the nurse was super nice, and that helped me calm down some.  i had read GREAT reviews about the doctor so i felt good about that.  when the doctor came in, i immediately wondered why people had liked her so well.  her voice was obnoxious and she was fairly brisk.  we chatted for a while and then she stepped out so i could undress and she'd do the ultrasound.  she started and i couldn't see the screen.  her face looked tense and all i could think was, "please, not again."  according to my dates, i should have been 7 weeks, 2 days pregnant.  she said, "are you SURE about your dates?"  i told her i was and she said, "well, you're measuring about 6 weeks, 2 days."  she turned the screen some so i could see better and i saw a due date of January 2.  she said, "you're my first 2013."  Then she told me there was blood in my uterus and that was probably the cause for the brown spotting.  she didn't seem alarmed at all about it.  she said it "slightly" increased the chance of miscarriage.  she said i had no restrictions as far as work went but that i should take it easy from exercise until my next appointment (in two weeks).  she said there was a heartbeat which was "reassuring".  i had tons of questions, which she answered, but she also seemed hurried.  i expressed concern over possible hypothyroidism, so she did a blood draw to test levels without even questioning it, which was kinda cool, but she basically blew off my concerns of autoimmunity, saying they usually only test for that if there's a miscarriage.  like i want to run that risk just to get answers.  more than one miscarriage is NOT just some medical dilemma to me. 

i looked up blood in the uterus online and found lots of info.  apparently this is a condition called subchorionic hematoma or hemorrhage (SCH).  i joined a support group and TONS of women on there had crazy stories about having big bleeds even with big clots and still having the baby be fine.  since "most" of these pregnancies went well, i tried not to worry.  we told our moms and the kids on monday and of course everyone was thrilled. it was exciting.  we had put a copy of the u/s pic in their mothers day cards.  that's when i noticed that the date on the bottom said baby was 6 weeks 3 days + or - 2 days, with a due date of 1/1/2013.  i thought it was weird because i KNEW i had seen 1/2/2013 on the screen, but maybe it readjusted when she measured the baby off.  i don't know.  anyway, everyone was excited and happy, especially me.  but then i felt like shit on tuesday and wanted to call in from work.  i knew i'd feel better if i just stayed home and rested.  but for some reason, i went.  it was SO BUSY.  i was stressing and working and wishing i could just rest.  everytime i'd go to the bathroom, a bit of blood would come out.  it was such a tiny amount that i didn't worry too much.  from what i had learned online (the dr had told us nothing about what to expect or what was or wasn't normal with this), sometimes the blood in the uterus "bleeds out."  i figured this was what was happening and tried not to worry, instead focusing on the hematoma being gone and the baby being fine. 

later that evening, the bleeding started getting worse and i started having some (not terrible) cramping.  i was nervous and put a long post on the support group board.  i got some very reassuring responses so i tried to relax but things kept getting worse.  things still aren't better, and i know my poor baby is gone.

it fucking sucks that now i have two babies in heaven.  i really had high hopes this time.  i also just got the call about my thyroid results.  they were "normal" whatever the hell that means.  at the time i was glad that she had just done the test, but now i wish they had listened to my (extensive) list of symptoms and really taken into account more than just one blood test.  now i have two dead babies and am no closer to answers.  i just want to know why this has happened again and if there's something wrong with me that is contributing to this heartbreaking experience.  i hate this.

Friday the 13th

Last Friday was friday the 13th. It was a good ish day. Very unlike a friday the 13th not long ago. The one where it was my turn to learn what losing a child feels like. Whenever I see a pregnant lady looking happy, I think about me that day. I went out to lunch before my appointment and I just wanted to shout to the world, "I'm going to have a baby." I felt like I was just beaming, brimming with  excitement. The ultrasound that day was beyond shocking. I don't know if i'll ever look back on that day and be able to fully connect to the incident. I feel like it was someone else lying on that table, someone else who didn't see her babys heartbeat. Friday the 13th always brings back these memories. But, as they're almost all I have of my baby, I cherish the memories, both good and bad.

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"hey, mom, remember when you had a baby the size of a pinto bean? This box would have been a good size for it."

Upon watching 19 kids and counting, when they learned baby number 20 had passed away:

"did you finish watching that show, or was it too hard for you?"

I never fail to be amazed by the spontaneity or wisdom of my kids. All this time, I thought they just forgot, but apparently I was wrong to feel that everyone forgot or no one cared about my third kiddo.

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