I had wavered and thought about not doing it after all but Jeff really wants to get it done. It's scheduled for March 19th. We should have the FISH results back within 48 hours letting us know if there is Trisomy, 13, 18 or 21... and the gender.
I'm still very nervous because there is a very small risk of miscarriage (.3%) and let's face it, our luck sucks lately. But the person doing my procedure has been doing it since the procedure was invented and even helped to pioneer the procedure so I feel confident that he's very good. Jefferson University Hospital is one of the BEST places to have it done so that makes me feel better as well.
Today I go for my preliminary bloodwork and tomorrow I start my first 24 hour urine test to get my baseline protein for this pregnancy. Dear protein, stay FAR away from this pregnancy, okay?
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Giving this another shot....
We had a D&C in December, right before Christmas. A month later, I went in to see Dr. P, our RE, for a consult on TTC again and starting treatments. I mentioned that I still hadn't gotten my period and that I had gotten some positive pregnancy tests. I told him we had only had sex twice in that last month, with no thoughts of getting pregnant. Based on our history and that we were on a d&c cycle, he was convinced that it was retained tissue from the d&c and scheduled me for a second d&c 2 days later and ordered blood tests. When they called that afternoon, something in my gut just told me to cancel the d&c so I asked for a few more blood tests to see what was going on before we went ahead with the surgery. 4 days later, my HCG level had increased. 4 more days later, it increased again. Since the idea of me having become pregnant was so inconceivable, he thought I had a rare placental tumor that would require chemotherapy. We came back a few more days later for more tests.... And then we saw a gestational sac on the ultrasound. Holy cow. Dr. P was blown away.
Fast forward to Friday... our miracle baby is now almost 10 weeks old.
Michelle, the ultrasound tech, was surprised that we were able to see the arms and legs so clearly!!! She said that the baby was moving around like crazy and had a wonderful heartbeat of 175!!
My OB's office has been truly wonderful. They know the hell we've been through in the last year and they are being beyond amazing. Instead of having appointments every 4 weeks like normal, I go every 2 weeks. They are going to monitor me extremely closely with many ultrasounds, 24 hour urine tests, etc.
We are currently debating CVS testing. I am not sure that I could handle delivering a baby with Trisomy 13 or 18 and having to bury another baby. The risk of miscarriage is low but there is still a risk and I'm afraid that we'd be in that small percentage like we have been for everything else so far.
Oddly... this baby is due October 1, 2012. Only 1 week after Alexander's death date, September 23rd. Since I'm supposed to have a scheduled c-section at 39 weeks (if we're lucky enough to escape pre-eclampsia this time), it was difficult to imagine having a baby born at the same time that our son died. I felt that the baby's birthday would always be overshadowed with grief and sadness. The OB's office agreed wholeheartedly and we will do an amnio at 37-38 weeks to check the lung maturity and deliver around 38 weeks instead of 39 weeks.
In the meantime.... we just pray and hope that everything goes well.
Fast forward to Friday... our miracle baby is now almost 10 weeks old.
Michelle, the ultrasound tech, was surprised that we were able to see the arms and legs so clearly!!! She said that the baby was moving around like crazy and had a wonderful heartbeat of 175!!
My OB's office has been truly wonderful. They know the hell we've been through in the last year and they are being beyond amazing. Instead of having appointments every 4 weeks like normal, I go every 2 weeks. They are going to monitor me extremely closely with many ultrasounds, 24 hour urine tests, etc.
We are currently debating CVS testing. I am not sure that I could handle delivering a baby with Trisomy 13 or 18 and having to bury another baby. The risk of miscarriage is low but there is still a risk and I'm afraid that we'd be in that small percentage like we have been for everything else so far.
Oddly... this baby is due October 1, 2012. Only 1 week after Alexander's death date, September 23rd. Since I'm supposed to have a scheduled c-section at 39 weeks (if we're lucky enough to escape pre-eclampsia this time), it was difficult to imagine having a baby born at the same time that our son died. I felt that the baby's birthday would always be overshadowed with grief and sadness. The OB's office agreed wholeheartedly and we will do an amnio at 37-38 weeks to check the lung maturity and deliver around 38 weeks instead of 39 weeks.
In the meantime.... we just pray and hope that everything goes well.
Closure?
Hardly.
The coroner's office called on Friday. The autopsy had finally been completed 5 months after his death. The results? Inconclusive. They determined, by exclusion, that he died of sudden unexplained infant death due to his prematurity.
So basically, we know as much as we knew 5 months ago. Nothing.
Part of you wants so badly for there to be a REASON. Something to blame it on. Some tangible reason why his life was taken from us so early, after so little time together.
And all there is to blame is prematurity.
Eff you, prematurity. Eff you, pre-eclampsia.
What was the POINT?! What was the point in the month of bed rest in the hospital? The 3 weeks of him hooked up to wires and tubes in the NICU? Why on earth did we have to go through all of that fighting to lose him when we thought we were finally in the clear????
I don't understand. Did I do something to deserve this? One of Jeff's friends told me that I did. That I deserved to have him die. And that's all I can think about sometimes. Did I anger God by getting divorced and this is my punishment? Did I anger God by having a baby when we weren't married? Did I anger God for defying nature and seeking infertility treatments to become pregnant?
And if I did deserve it for some reason, why did HE deserve it???? He was a tiny, innocent, sweet and perfect baby. He deserved a long life full of love and first kisses and getting married and playing sports and annoying his sister and having his own children. He was cheated out of so much.
I recently read a book called, "Heaven is for Real" and I'm trying desperately to cling to the ideals of the book. That there really is a Heaven. That God and Jesus are there taking care of and loving our children, even the babies that we miscarried. That my loved ones (my Mema, Grandpa and Dad) are there loving them and caring for them until we are able to be with them again.
The coroner's office called on Friday. The autopsy had finally been completed 5 months after his death. The results? Inconclusive. They determined, by exclusion, that he died of sudden unexplained infant death due to his prematurity.
So basically, we know as much as we knew 5 months ago. Nothing.
Part of you wants so badly for there to be a REASON. Something to blame it on. Some tangible reason why his life was taken from us so early, after so little time together.
And all there is to blame is prematurity.
Eff you, prematurity. Eff you, pre-eclampsia.
What was the POINT?! What was the point in the month of bed rest in the hospital? The 3 weeks of him hooked up to wires and tubes in the NICU? Why on earth did we have to go through all of that fighting to lose him when we thought we were finally in the clear????
I don't understand. Did I do something to deserve this? One of Jeff's friends told me that I did. That I deserved to have him die. And that's all I can think about sometimes. Did I anger God by getting divorced and this is my punishment? Did I anger God by having a baby when we weren't married? Did I anger God for defying nature and seeking infertility treatments to become pregnant?
And if I did deserve it for some reason, why did HE deserve it???? He was a tiny, innocent, sweet and perfect baby. He deserved a long life full of love and first kisses and getting married and playing sports and annoying his sister and having his own children. He was cheated out of so much.
I recently read a book called, "Heaven is for Real" and I'm trying desperately to cling to the ideals of the book. That there really is a Heaven. That God and Jesus are there taking care of and loving our children, even the babies that we miscarried. That my loved ones (my Mema, Grandpa and Dad) are there loving them and caring for them until we are able to be with them again.
Triggers.
When you least expect it, there are triggers that knock you off your feet. Today I was grocery shopping and wandered down the baby aisle. Usually I'm okay with this. Today, however.... I passed the baby food and stopped and looked. And I almost lost it. All I could think of was what kind of baby food would Alexander be eating? What would be his favorite? What would he hate? How funny would his first taste of food have been? Would he be independent like his sister and insist on trying to feed himself?
Which then led to thoughts of... would he be chubby by now? Would he still have red hair? Would his eyes still be blue?
I watched a video this morning of when he was born. Of his very first angry cry. Of the oxygen mask on his face and the NICU team stimulating him. He was so very tiny.
For such a tiny little baby, the hole in my heart is so very huge.
Which then led to thoughts of... would he be chubby by now? Would he still have red hair? Would his eyes still be blue?
I watched a video this morning of when he was born. Of his very first angry cry. Of the oxygen mask on his face and the NICU team stimulating him. He was so very tiny.
For such a tiny little baby, the hole in my heart is so very huge.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
"Family is not everything"
This blog link was sent to me by a friend and really hit home with me. I hope you take the time to read it.
http://www.aninchofgray.blogspot.com/2011/12/some-christmas-thoughts-with-photos.html
2011 Lesson #1 – Family is not everything.
It can’t be. Because sometimes beloved sons die. And husbands leave. And daughters lose their minds for decades. And beloved babies are broken by broken men behind the wheel. And fathers abuse and mothers neglect and sisters and brothers betray. And friends walk away.
Family cannot be everything, everything, everything. Because if it is, then everything can be taken away in the blink of an eye. Or maybe never offered at all.
If family is everything, everything, everything, then it follows that if my family was taken from me, I would have and be nothing. And because if family is everything, then I would need to parent my kids and love my parents and Sister and husband in a state of constant fear. And fear taints love. Fear makes the lover hyperventilate and the beloved suffocate. Fear makes love a cage.
Down past the terrified, ridiculous part of me that believes something terrible will happen if I acknowledge this- I know that family is not everything. It’s a lot. It’s a whole damn lot. If my family were taken from me, or never given to me in the first place, I would feel shattered. But I would still be something. I would still have something. I would still have the most important part of me, as a matter of fact.
And this is something I’ve learned only this year. At the start of 2011, I definitely would have told you that family is everything.
But a few weeks ago I sat with my friend Anna, who lost her Jack this year. She is suffering through excruciating pain that I’m afraid might just morph and never ease. But listen- when I looked at Anna- I was not looking at a woman with nothing. And it wasn’t just because she has Tim and Margaret left on this side. What I mean is that I was in the presence of a woman who has the entire world in her hands.
Anna is a woman who has power to heal -herself and others. Because Anna has choices. She could curse God and die, and we would all understand. But she doesn’t. She’s alive. Anna’s decision to write, to stay open, to invite us in when she’s most vulnerable, to get out of bed each morning, to keep choosing hope and love and life and to face the horrifically painful truth instead of hiding – her determination that THERE WILL STILL BE JOY, DAMNIT – these choices are healing and awakening her family, friends and readers. A teeny, teeny bit at a time. And since the worst has already happened, Anna is a woman who, at the moment, is loving and living without fear. And that is something.
I know she’d trade all this in a hot second to get her Jack back. But the fact remains that she is still Anna. She is a new Anna. A very, very different Anna. And being with her right now is healing. She makes me less afraid. I just want to be with her all the time. I can’t explain how or why- but being with her right now feels a little bit like being with God. Even with the F-bombs we throw around. (Thank you, God, for curse words. Sometimes they are really all that helps). My friends, Anna has not lost everything. She is still Jack’s and Margaret’s mother and now she’s also mothering multitudes. She had no say in losing her Jack. But she certainly has a say in each moment now. And most days she’s choosing life. THAT is everything. Just mark my words, please. That precious Jack did not die in vain. Anna is going to help heal the world. They are going to do it together, Anna and Jack. One foot on each side.
http://www.aninchofgray.blogspot.com/2011/12/some-christmas-thoughts-with-photos.html
2011 Lesson #1 – Family is not everything.
It can’t be. Because sometimes beloved sons die. And husbands leave. And daughters lose their minds for decades. And beloved babies are broken by broken men behind the wheel. And fathers abuse and mothers neglect and sisters and brothers betray. And friends walk away.
Family cannot be everything, everything, everything. Because if it is, then everything can be taken away in the blink of an eye. Or maybe never offered at all.
If family is everything, everything, everything, then it follows that if my family was taken from me, I would have and be nothing. And because if family is everything, then I would need to parent my kids and love my parents and Sister and husband in a state of constant fear. And fear taints love. Fear makes the lover hyperventilate and the beloved suffocate. Fear makes love a cage.
Down past the terrified, ridiculous part of me that believes something terrible will happen if I acknowledge this- I know that family is not everything. It’s a lot. It’s a whole damn lot. If my family were taken from me, or never given to me in the first place, I would feel shattered. But I would still be something. I would still have something. I would still have the most important part of me, as a matter of fact.
And this is something I’ve learned only this year. At the start of 2011, I definitely would have told you that family is everything.
But a few weeks ago I sat with my friend Anna, who lost her Jack this year. She is suffering through excruciating pain that I’m afraid might just morph and never ease. But listen- when I looked at Anna- I was not looking at a woman with nothing. And it wasn’t just because she has Tim and Margaret left on this side. What I mean is that I was in the presence of a woman who has the entire world in her hands.
Anna is a woman who has power to heal -herself and others. Because Anna has choices. She could curse God and die, and we would all understand. But she doesn’t. She’s alive. Anna’s decision to write, to stay open, to invite us in when she’s most vulnerable, to get out of bed each morning, to keep choosing hope and love and life and to face the horrifically painful truth instead of hiding – her determination that THERE WILL STILL BE JOY, DAMNIT – these choices are healing and awakening her family, friends and readers. A teeny, teeny bit at a time. And since the worst has already happened, Anna is a woman who, at the moment, is loving and living without fear. And that is something.
I know she’d trade all this in a hot second to get her Jack back. But the fact remains that she is still Anna. She is a new Anna. A very, very different Anna. And being with her right now is healing. She makes me less afraid. I just want to be with her all the time. I can’t explain how or why- but being with her right now feels a little bit like being with God. Even with the F-bombs we throw around. (Thank you, God, for curse words. Sometimes they are really all that helps). My friends, Anna has not lost everything. She is still Jack’s and Margaret’s mother and now she’s also mothering multitudes. She had no say in losing her Jack. But she certainly has a say in each moment now. And most days she’s choosing life. THAT is everything. Just mark my words, please. That precious Jack did not die in vain. Anna is going to help heal the world. They are going to do it together, Anna and Jack. One foot on each side.
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