understanding the unfairness of the blessings

It's been exactly one week since we received the most devastating news that we could have imagined as a couple. Or maybe in Scott's case, he never could imagine it. As he said:

• We've been struggling. We lost the house, my mom got sick, our fertility issues - trying for over a year, having surgery, following the schedule. When we got pregnant, we should have been great. I'm the healthiest I've been in years. This should have been it.

And it feels like he's right. In the Grand Scheme of Things, we deserved this baby. Our family deserved this baby. Our son deserves to be a big brother. This isn't the way our life was supposed to go. We try to be good people and do what we're supposed to do. We try and try and try. And it does feel like we just can't win sometimes. It feels mostly unfair as I am walking next to a pair of teenage sisters at Target, one about 16, the other a few years younger. And the 16 yr old is very pregnant. And she's complaining about everything. And her younger sister is talking to her about how to get child support from the father. Blah, blah, blah. It took everything in me to pull the cart over and to let them walk away. They were in their own little crisis at the moment, and while it compared nothing to mine, it was everything to them. But that didn't mean that I had to hear about it. Or tell them to shut the "F" up because my baby had died, and she was just a stupid kid. (Do you see now why I stopped? It's safer for everyone.)

But this is the way that life is. It's unpredictable and unfair. It's messy and complicated and exhilarating and excruciating. It's magical and terrifying all at once. Life is complicated. Life doesn't follow any plans.

But Life can be so beautiful. Even a tiny little life that physically didn't amount to more than a cluster of human cells and tissue. That little life gave us all something so important. That little spark gave it's parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents, and friends a glimmer at a different future. It brought hope and we grew to love this tiny life that only existed to a handful of people. But see? That's the point. This tiny little life existed. It grew from a single cellular experience into something magnificent.

I had doubts from the moment I found out I was pregnant. It was too fabulous to believe. And when the tests came back with such faint pink lines, I thought, "See. I'm not really pregnant. I don't get to have this." They kept telling me, any line is a positive line. I spent weeks, three to be exact, waiting for my period every time I went to the bathroom. I was so used to being disappointed month after month, that it never seemed real enough. I didn't feel "pregnant." I felt exhausted and nauseous. The last two weeks of this pregnancy, my symptoms were a lot worse - much more tired, potty breaks all the time, more food aversions, body changes - I thought that I needed to listen to my body more - I was pregnant. Everyone said I was, even  my dreams. I was dreaming of twins all the time. So, I pondered baby names, we went shopping, I was telling more people. But I still had doubts. I kept telling myself that once we had the ultrasound, everything would be great. The biggest surprise would be twins. Everything will be great, and I will finally feel 100% ok.

As we sat in the waiting room for the ultrasound, 1 week ago today, Scott was reading the paper, nervous but excited looking. Everyone was so excited when we checked in, the receptionists, the tech. We waited for about 20 minutes and I was so nervous. We went back with the tech, the lights were low, and she tried too find anything with the regular ultrasound. I thought this was strange since I was only 8 weeks and a few days, and oh yeah, I'm not thin. After finally progressing to the internal ultrasound, she kept focusing on not-baby things like my ovaries, and other things. And then she just said that the sac is empty. And it happens a lot. and blah blah blah. I kept thinking, is she allowed to be telling me this? Shouldn't a doctor be in here? But she just kept talking all hyper and positive, like she had a Red Bull over lunch with her ice cream cone. Scott had no idea what she was talking about, because she didn't talk to him. I had to tell my husband that there wasn't a baby. And through the doctor consult and the family weekend, I kept saying, "There isn't a baby. It didn't grow. There was never a baby."

But I was wrong.

There was a baby. And it grew. It grew from one single cell, from 2 loving parents who wanted it so badly. Our tiny Spark grew as long as it could - 5 weeks and 3 days. That was as long as our Spark could make it. It's not enough. It will never be enough. But it's still something. And something is more than nothing. Our Spark was something to everyone who knew about it. And we won't forget.

Life... lives, pure and simple. Life is to be experienced. Life in any form is a blessing. Our tiny little Spark of life was a blessing. A Blessing of hope and the love between Scott and I; a blessing of the love of a family.

I was given a handwritten note from one of our workplace chaplains. (Yes, 2 chaplains visit my office each week, offering their guidance or just some chatting.) Anyway, it said that I would one day hold my baby in my arms in Heaven. At that moment, that seemed like a ridiculous thing to say. How could I hold something that was tinier than anything in my arms? Would I know if it were a son or a daughter? Would it be neither? I was a little freaked out. But then I could see myself... and I was holding our Spark. Like a little orb of light that emitted warmth. Just this little Spark of life the could fit into the palm of my hand. I like the thought of that. Of being able to hold our Spark, and being warmed once again by the warmth of its light.

she lied

The recovery nurse who said that things wouldn't get any worse than yesterday morning lied. She was wrong.

I’m getting worse by the day.

Yesterday I felt good. Little to no cramping, not even really any after affects. I worked all day, was a little emotional in the afternoon, but I was ok.

Then Weston and I went to Target. And he took forever. And I started to get really tired and a little crampy. I tried to hurry him along. We were doing pretty good together. But then he got mad when I wouldn’t get him a movie from the checkout end cap (after agreeing to a $5 movie and a toy using his Valentine’s money.) I told him he could get the toy or the movie, only 1. And that was the melt down. “I don’t love you, Mommy. I only love Daddy.” Whining and anger and fighting in the checkout. So… I put the movie back, got him the toy, checked out, and dragged him out of the store. (Dragged by the hand, which he held onto, so I guess that doesn't count as dragging, right?) I was crying by the time I got to the car. That freaked him out, which made me cry harder. I couldn’t stop. 

•  “I didn’t know Mommies and Daddies could cry.” 

Um, yeah you did, you've seen it before. Anyway, it was a rough night. Weston kept asking if I was still sad, which I was, terribly, but I smiled for him as best as I could manage. I started cramping very badly around 8pm, and was up until midnight with a heating pad and ibuprofen, because these were the only meds the medical staff told me I could take. I woke up again at 4:20am in so much pain that I couldn’t get back to sleep until 5:50am, finally dragging myself out of bed at 6:30. So, now I am so tired that I can’t control the emotions. I feel like an over-tired baby that just cries and cries until the cry themselves to sleep. Except I can't cry or go to sleep because I have to work. I miss benefits like sick time and more than 64 hours a year for PTO - you know, companies that value family and women. That would be nice. 

I'm on the lookout for ways to grieve other than crying. And something to help my husband. Any ideas? Comment and let me know.

the last day of my second pregnancy

Mercy Medical Center

Yesterday started out like a normal snow day... I couldn't sleep and was worried about Weston getting to school on time. I rushed through my shower, wanting to be as fresh for surgery as possible. And then Weston wanted me to go with them to daycare. The roads in Altoona were so bad that we thought we'd need to leave early for the hospital. We didn't, it took 8 minutes to get to Mercy. The difference between the Des Moines road crews, and Altoona's lack of road anything.

My view for 3 hours - hospital socks

We got to the hospital by 9:30, and were in pre-op by 10am. And had all the blood work, IV, EKG, etc done by 10:45. Then everything got pushed back. thank goodness for WiFi, my iPhone, Facebook, and the generosity of my friend Jessica for messaging me while waiting. I waited so long, I got visited and checked in by 2 anesthesiologists! Which was actually a great thing. I have problems with anesthesia, and while it's been ok lately, this doctor was able to pull my anesthesia records from Oct. 2007 and see what was done so well that time. I was taken back at 1:15. Great OR staff, super nice and considerate, helped keep me covered all the time. It faintly smelled like McDonald's in there - not kidding, like a Big Mac. The surgery went pretty fast. Scott had spoken with my OB by 2pm, and was grabbing lunch (McDonald's of course) while I was the surgical recovery bay. I had some breathing issues in recovery- every time I fell back asleep, my O2 levels would drop. Oops. Once I woke up more and coughed, that got better. In fact, every time the alarms went off, I focused on my breathing, and things perked right up. I had to go to the bathroom from the moment I woke up in the recovery bay- which the nurses loved since it proved that everything was in working order.

poor waiting husband
- 3 hours wait pre-op

I was moved to the post-op chair around 3:15pm, and Scott was with me by 3:20. I was good by then. Bathroom break done, drinking fluids, dressed and wheeled to the door by 3:45. Home by 4:05. This recovery was a lot easier. No big pain meds, no nausea, and I could eat as soon as I got home. Thank God for Ramen Noodles.
Nothing too bad in the after effects either.

I didn't get a lot of rest... Slept maybe 15 mins after I got home, before Weston and then Shannon were there. One of our daycare moms sent dinner home with us, so I had to heat that up. We didn't realize it was frozen, so they had garlic bread and brownies before Swim Lessons. Yes, she sent Brownies and Bread with a pasta casserole. Because she is a woman, and she is amazing and considerate.
On the note of Swimming Lessons - I missed them, but Weston passed Beginner 2 and is ready for Intermediate 3!!! Woo-hoo! We heard that it sometimes takes 2 tries to pass!!!

I was in bed by 10:15pm. 
I was really crampy  and my breasts hurt so bad that I almost cried when I went to sleep, and they woke me up again and again until about 1 am... But the cramps are no worse than a period. I'm hoping it stays that way. It's how I was after Weston's c-section. The Surgical Recovery nurse called this morning, and she said that it actually shouldn't get any worse than it is.

Scott's not doing too well. He's very emotional. As he deserves to be. But I'm not sure how to help him. I feel like I am not emotional enough in comparison to him. And maybe it's because I had a Murphy's Law feeling for all but the last 2 weeks? I didn't say anything because so many people were so excited. And it was so easy to fall into their excitement. I started shopping in the last 2 weeks - I bought a diaper bag, and looked at bottles and car seats and strollers. I was getting so excited at this baby. But for Scott - Scott was in it from Day 1. He told his family, everyone at work - so this is hitting him pretty hard. He didn't understand what the tech was telling us at first. I had to explain it all to him. Many many times.

the beautiful flowers
from our daycare family

 I'm just trying to let him do what he needs to do - even if it's hug and kiss me, and constantly tell me how much he loves me. Right now... I am very sensitive to touching, I don't like to be touched when I'm in pain, physical or emotional, and I strike out. I am doing everything I can to not do that. To accept what he needs to give. To make him feel better. Friday afternoon at the doctor's office, he kept telling me how sorry he was and touching me. I was a little mean. When we got out of the office, I apologized and then explained that I was trying not to cry in front of an office full of happy pregnant women. When we got away and by the car, I broke down and just sobbed, holding onto to him for dear life. I have no idea if I've ever cried like that in front of him. When my Mom got sick, there was hope. I cried, but I had hope. It was an uncontrollable soft cry, tears falling, nothing I could do to stop them, the tear faucet was on. This wasn't hope. It was death. Our second baby had died before it even got to live... it was never even a fetus. It wasn't really a baby to anyone but the 2 of us, and to some of our family. There just isn't anything to be done but sob and be sad.

the face of post-miscarriage

I had to tell the boss this morning, in case I had to go home today. He just looked shocked, and maybe it's because I never told them I was pregnant. I had to tell the 2 guys who figured it out. That was rough, one of them was very sad. And I had to tell someone else who was joking about my long weekend. I was kind of short with him, and I felt horrible about it. They have been so kind that it made me so emotional. My tear faucet has wanted to leak all day.

I've already been called by the recovery team at the hospital. I called my OB and changed my appt to their Ankeny office (I forgot there was an office 10 mins from my work.) I called my fertility specialist and left a message with the updated information. Dr. Cooper called back personally. He is so kind and just great. We talked about things, how it's common even in normal women without fertility issues to have 40-50% of pregnancies end in miscarriage. And that we did nothing wrong. And how healthy my recovery sounds. He said we could go back to trying after 1 normal cycle. (My OB said 2... we'll see.) I left a message with my family doctor as well, since he handles my diabetic care. Maybe I should have stayed home to make phone calls.

I'm feeling dazed and teary now, but I'm at work. I'll leave early if I need to, though as the day goes on, it's getting better. I'm feeling fine - other than a scratchy sore throat from the breathing tubes during surgery. Hot tea is helping that.

I am amazed at how many women this has happened to; how many never talk about it. It's a travesty. We could help each other. We should help each other. So many of these women have helped me, saved me. I hope to one day be able to help someone else - though I wish this on no one. Ever.

the next step

It's been an exhausting weekend. After sobbing on my bed Friday afternoon and making all the important calls, you know - Mom, sister, family, close friends - while Scott went to his work and explained why he wouldn't be in on Monday, we packed up to leave for the weekend. (I know, what the hell was I thinking?)

I tried to get away so that we would be the only parents at daycare when we picked up Weston. We weren't so lucky. Hugs and pity and genuine sorrow just flowed from everyone straight into me. Our daycare provider, Weston's other mom, helped explain to my little guy that Mommy wasn't feeling too well, and that both Mommy and Daddy are pretty sad. This resulted in lots of hugs from Weston. Just what I needed! I held it together and managed to keep the tears in until I was in the car. We drove north to spend the weekend with Scott's family. Lots of texts from friends, one of our daycare moms is actually making us dinner for tomorrow night, and has agreed to take pictures of Weston's last swim lesson for me since I won't be there.

8 days old

Weston and his cousin Mackenzie, he's so happy!

  Ok... the whole point of going north was to see our brand new Great-Niece, obviously on Scott's side. She was born just a week ago. We made it to Scott's Mom's apartment in Cherokee late Friday night, in a torrential rain storm. We drove up to Hartley to see the new baby the next afternoon. I was feeling a lot better Saturday, nothing felt any different. I was nervous about holding a baby after what we had going on. I was super chatty in the front seat with my mother-in-law. Scott couldn't hear a lot of our conversation. We were talking about cars and how I want to upgrade to a minivan. And she had the nerve to say, "You don't have any more kids. You don't need a bigger car." Yeah... the day after finding out that our pregnancy wasn't viable. I'm still pregnant and she said that to me. She seriously is in need of some sensitivity training. I told her that I was "Acutely aware of the fact that I didn't have another baby. Thank you."

Smiling in her sleep as we said goodbye

Anyway, I held our new niece Mackenzie. And it was ok. She is beautiful. It was soothing, comforting, good, healing. Weston loves her. And I know that they say that new babies don't smile, but she totally smiled at Weston - with her whole face. We stayed for about 4 hours, and as the fog rolled in, Scott's mom said it was time to go. And after checking the weather for NW Iowa and everything between there and Des Moines, we decided to pack up and head back to the 515 as soon as we got back to Cherokee. It was a long ride in super thick fog and the occasional rain storm, but we made it home at midnight - only an hour or so longer than our usual trip, and we had a stop or two along the way.

It's been a slow, but good normal day. My stomach has been very upset and crampy. I'm not sure if it's because of something I ate, the pregnancy symptoms that have been consistent since day one, or my anxiety over tomorrow's D&C. Probably all three. Every time I use the bathroom, I am deathly afraid that my body has finally caught on, and that I am miscarrying naturally. I want nothing to do with nature. I want this to happen in a hospital, the majority taken at one time.

So, I remembered what the doctor had called what happened to us in the middle of the night Friday... she said that what we have is a Blighted Ovum. Here's what I've found out from the American Pregnancy Association:

• A Blighted Ovum happens when a fertilized eggs attaches itself to the uterine wall, but the embryo does not develop. A blighted ovum occurs in the first trimester, often before a woman even knows that she is pregnant. (Unless, you're me and track everything to the minute. Though I wonder if our super light pregnancy tests were telling us something?)
• A blighted ovum is the cause of about 50% of first trimester miscarriages and is usually the result of chromosomal problems. A woman's body recognizes abnormal chromosomes in a fetus and naturally does not try to continue the pregnancy because the fetus will not develop into a healthy baby. This can be caused by abnormal cell division, or poor sperm or egg quality. (I also read elsewhere that the placenta can continue to grow, hormones can still be produced, and bodies still act like they are carrying a healthy pregnancy. I have one of those.)
• A blighted ovum is often a one time occurrence, and rarely will a woman experience more than one.

So... tomorrow is going to be so stressful. But the logical side of my brain says, there never was an embryo. Yesterday that seemed to make it easier. When I looked at the ultrasound, all I saw was an empty sac. It has to be better than seeing a baby without a heart beat on the screen. Right? Probably not... at least yesterday I was ok. Today I've been home in a new rain+ice+sleet+snow storm, and I was randomly  teary all day. It just happened. I imagine that tomorrow will be horrible. And every day after will be a bit better. Then again, I have to go to work, so it could be awful for a while. So I am told. I'll try to post soon. I hope this wasn't too much rambling, I just needed to get it all out.

the end

so we had our 8 week ultrasound today.

And there was an empty spcae where our baby should have been.

It looks like everything stopped growing around 5 weeks and 3 days. Exactly 3 weeks ago.

Nothing has changed with my body. I still have all the symptoms of this empty pregnancy, except there is no baby.

We are heartbroken. I can't stop crying. I'm done for now.

our fruit continues to blossom...

This is what I got in my weekly email this morning. I'm kind of in love with these little phrases! Highlights from this week's progress report:

• By the middle of this week, Baby has 10 toes and 10 fingers (though there's still webbing between them). A small neck has appeared and a distinct profile is already emerging on Baby's tiny face. But here's the most exciting part: Your tadpole/chickpea/raspberry is no longer considered an embryo but--a bona fide fetus with moving arms and legs!

Guess I won't be able to call him or her the Great Embryolio any longer. I need a new name... or I can just go with the berry or fruit of the week!

So... I am surrounded by new babies and expectant parents. Two just announced this week. One is already 5+ months along (no idea how she kept that secret), she announced with a picture of a snowman family made by child #2 including a pregnant snowmom, and the other announced with a bath picture of child #1 on Instagram. I dying to tell people, to make it feel more real. But I know that we have to keep it in until the Ultrasound at the very least. Oh, and one of my sorority sisters announced her engagement last night. It's so exciting. The last of "our group" to take the plunge! Except her potential wedding date is the week of this baby's estimated due date. So we can't go. :(    And that about kills me. (It's in Texas... too far to travel before baby or just after.)

So... yeah. Dying to tell and can't. Always hungry but watching my carbs, etc. :) The next 10 days until this Ultrasound can't come fast enough!

Oh! I had my regular diabetic check up and blood work this week. It's great! The best A1C level in years! So, no insulin shots for the time being!!! I know they are coming, but the longer I can put it off, the better. :)

Ok, back to waiting!!! I'm working on the 2nd Favorite Songs list... it's just taking time. ;)

Blueberry, Anyone?

I keep getting all of these emails telling me at what point of development our baby is at. Most are confusing. Most everything is confusing, and here's why:

I really haven't seen a doctor yet. I mean, I went into my Dr.'s Office, peed in a cup and then was told that I wasn't pregnant, oh wait! I am pregnant. We figured out a date based on my last period and they thought I was 4 weeks along. Dilemma 1. Do you go by the last period or the dates of conception? Dilemma 2. If I'm now 6 weeks pregnant, are we looking at week 7 for the development stuff? Half the sites and apps I use are conflicting.

So, Shannon has a school nurse friend at one of her schools where she is a therapist. And this nurse had the trusty Baby Predictor Dial. (My first family doctor had one, and that's how they estimated Weston's due date in the office. It was about a week off from the ultrasound.) So, based on the average date between the possible conception dates, we have a new due date of October 15th. Dilemma 1solved until March 8th. Onto Dilemma 2 - the app on my phone keeps showing a week ahead of how far along I am. For instance, today, I am 6 weeks, 3 days, so the app keeps showing things for Week 7 - which I guess is the week I am in. A few sites are sending me Week 6 stuff. And I am confused. But I think I am going to go by the app on my phone until I know more.


That being said, today I got an email. "Welcome to Week 7" from Babyzone.com. It explained how our Great Embryolio #2 is evolving from "a tadpole, but by the end of the week it will have transformed into a tiny being that's distinctly humanoid. Its body is continuing to lengthen, the arms begin to bend at the elbows and curve around the heart, which is beating even more rhythmically now. By the end of this week the embryo's whole skeleton--made of bendable cartilage, like a shark--will be fully formed. (It will be replaced by bone soon enough.) The baby has a digestive system now, as well as kidneys, liver, heart, spleen, and even an appendix." Outstanding!

Our little Blueberry Jones

The best part? This week your baby is the size of a Blueberry. Ha! A blueberry! I love it when it's kind of a cute little comparison - anything is better than a Tadpole. :) 

Enjoy your Weekend!!! It's my SeaStar Shannon's 29th Birthday tomorrow and we have plans all day long! Some play time with the kids, a little shopping, manicure for me, pedicures for the girls (I hurt my toe and can't have a pedicure - boo!), then dinner at Ohana with the Girls and out for drinks after! So excited for some girl time!