Due

Sunday was my due date.

4/5/15.

Sadness and wondering can coexist with gratefulness and hope. 

My current baby doesn't replace my first baby. I was having a girl with one donor family. Now a boy with another. 

It's the way it's meant to be. I don't know that it's good or bad. It's just a loss and a totally different reality. There are reasons I don't know. I don't personally believe she was too perfect for earth or that God needed her. I'm not sure why things happened the way they did. 

But I'm here. And I believe despite the painful realities, God has a plan for my life. And He is still good to me. 

Acceptance. 

I will admit, though, it is easier to swallow when the baby I have now is jerking around and a week from viability. 

Hope. 

Her life still means something to me. We were together a month and a half. I went through things people shouldn't have to in order to be pregnant with her. I honored her memory with a gift to St Jude, and two of my family members honored her with a gift to Make a Wish. Maybe someone else's child can make memories with their family on her account, since she never got to. 

Sorrow and joy. 

Honoring the Loss

Our due date would have been in exactly a month.

In almost exactly five months, I should be meeting my son. I'm so incredibly blessed. I realize the magnitude that I can say this. My heart breaks for others who are waiting to be able to experience this expectation.

It's strange for those two ideas to mingle together in my heart and mind.

Loss and blessing.

What could have been. What (we hope) will be.

I don't have to be sad to honor the loss. I can be sad. But that's not the only appropriate way to feel. I'm trying to figure out what that means for me. I don't really even know how I feel.

I do know I want to remember my daughter. I'm not sure how that looks in this next season.

I Can't Explain

My belly gets a little bigger every day. At first it just looked wider, but now the bump is moving up and is pretty noticeable when I'm not in scrubs. Although, I have to admit that a frequent flier patient at my work asked if I was still exercising and eating healthy, so I guess people who don't know are starting to wonder. I still haven't gained any weight, so I guess it's just my insides getting pushed out.

I had to seek out some maternity underwear due to the aforementioned growth. I was angry, yes angry, that Target didn't have any. I don't want to buy regular a size up. They will roll down in the front and sag in the back, and my current ones leave a line in my belly. What the heck society. Am I the only one who sees this need? 

And that irritation was because I had to, then, go to Motherhood Maternity. I tried their website, but the sizing wasn't clear. I went, and I felt like an imposter there. I'm just as pregnant as any other shopper there, but I felt like I didn't belong, and I rushed in and out. 

It's been about three weeks since my last ultrasound, and by the time we go to the specialty shop to get the big sex reveal on Friday, it will have been almost four weeks. 

I can't explain why I feel the way I do. Other than the night I bled a ton, I never think "what if the baby's heart has stopped?"... Other than when I think about the next ultrasound. My trigger. I start to plan it out in my head. Would the tech notice right away? The baby wouldn't be moving, so I'd notice right away. What would the tech say? Why did I schedule the scan on a Friday afternoon? How will I reach my OB, then? 

These thought are very intrusive. They invade my brain like I imagine a tumor can, weaving in and getting stuck there. 

Why can't I be happy? Why can't I be more excited? I get to see my baby. I will have a video of the movement and lots of new pictures. We can really start planning once we know "boy or girl". But I'm dragging my feet because I don't want bad news. 

I am blessed. God is with me. He has helped me get to this point. I don't understand every "why", but I still trust Him. 

However, those things don't negate my pain and fears. I live in a broken world. Each day is an opportunity to unbury myself and try to heal. 

3.5 years of waiting, the isolation, the home studies, the lost faith in the foster care system, the rejection in adoption situations, the failed IUIs, the failed IVF transfer, the blighted ovum, the miscarriage, the painful realities of medical interventions I fear whether it be the 100s of shots or the two d&c's, the bright red blood at a time you aren't supposed to bleed- it all adds up. It is a heavy weight, much too heavy to dispose of in the amount of time I've had. 

And it will still be there when I deliver. My hope is that it will be much less heavy and won't take away in my ability to enjoy my biggest blessing, this creature I have sought after and fought for. 

Pregnancy is normally a time to get things ready. Thank God we have a nursery already, because it's my heart I need to get ready. 

2015

Goodbye 2014, hello 2015.

I had a mixture of feelings as I watched the NYE ball drop on TV and the rain of confetti that followed. 

My primary feeling was a bit of sadness. It came out of no where, starting only as the TV screen showed the countdown in seconds. 

2014 has been the most challenging year of my life but I still won't say it was a "bad" year. 

But I did have a really big loss and it stings to close a chapter on my first baby. I'm truly joyful about my current pregnancy, which is such a blessing, yet it pains me to say goodbye to my other one. I feel like I'm leaving her behind with the change in year. 

Grief is such an unexpected, unexplainable, unpredictable, fickle thing. 

So for today my heart mingles with bursting hope and solemn sadness. 

I start week 9 tomorrow. Week 8 has been the physically hardest. I've been the most tired and most nauseous. I've thrown up twice this week (which is relatively not bad for what it could be). I wonder what next week will bring. I'm hoping another good ultrasound, good bloodwork (baseline hormone levels so I can start weaning off these meds in the next bit), and getting an appointment on the books with my OB (which has been a challenge... Have sex, pee on a test and you get right in but there's extra steps to take with being under the care of a specialist, all of which are accentuated with the holidays and three three involved offices [clinic, monitoring clinic, OB] being periodically closed). 

8 Week Check In

I'm actually 8 weeks, 2 days, but better late than never I guess.

Baby's size: Kidney bean or raspberry

Total weight gain: When I last weighed myself about a week ago, I was back to pre-estrace weight. Horray! My stomach and chest are both pretty puffy so I don't know how my weight dropped back down, but it did. Not complaining!

Sleep: I haven't noticed any changes with my sleeping patterns other than I just need more. I'm going to bed usually by 8 PM. I've been pretty darn tired.

Best moment of last week: Celebrating Christmas with family <3

Miss anything: I had another cold last week so I missed sudafed and prednisone. I got a hot mist humidifier that helped quite a bit, though.

Food cravings: Cheese, sour cream, fresh berries (random things!)

Anything that makes you sick or queasy: Going too long without eating a snack, pretty much anything in the morning (when I eat my usual of granola bar, oatmeal, or toast in the morning, it's like chewing sandpaper), carbonation (not that I need to drink Cokes or anything right now but I had been drinking sparkling water and it makes me SICK-ugh), most forms of chicken (exceptions is small pieces in a dish)

Looking forward to: Ultrasound tomorrow! I will feel a lot more comfortable if we have a good ultrasound at 8 weeks. And I will know the bleeding and cramping is not affecting anything.

The internet says: The baby has webbed fingers and toes, eyelids, developing lungs, and has almost lost the creepy tail.

Other milestones: Tuesday will be the milestone anniversary of our miscarriage <3 Also, on a lighter note, my due date is early August. My sister said to get ready for remarks about how I will be giant in the middle of the summer heat... and it happened- I got my first comment about it! Haha!

Open Wounds

I didn't know how it would be to be pregnant after a loss. I guess I figured I'd have a lot more anxiety about everything. Despite no answers in the genetic testing, I still believe the miscarriage was from something chromosomal. Maybe that helps keep this pregnancy somewhat in perspective. There was nothing I could do. It was out of my control. So there is nothing I can do to hurt or help this pregnancy either, outside taking my medication as ordered. And now that I've seen a healthy heartbeat at 7 weeks, science says I have less than a 5% chance of a miscarriage.

While I have not felt overwhelmingly anxious, I have not felt overwhelmingly anything... except perhaps hesitation. I don't want to make too many plans yet. I don't want to get too excited yet. My heart is still broken. The true healing I've had since August has been replaced with open wounds. They will heal up again, as they did before, but it will take time.

Many people don't have dozens of people know the moment they may become pregnant or early on when they pee on a stick or get a beta. So I think that is the heart of my current difficulties. Openness in our journey has been a blessing in many ways, but in this situation, it makes things difficult sometimes, too.

So many people are rooting for us, but rabid excitement is not what I need right now. Prayers, sweet comments, affirmations- yes, those all help immensely. I love the hugs, congratulations, and eager expectation. But (what seems to me) flippant, pure joy as if everything is "done deal" and there will be a baby here in August? Statements like I "just need to think positive"? Hoping for the best is fine and dandy til it didn't work for you. Those words feel like a knife stabbing me.

Stabbing me over and over as I replay all the positivity and hope I had for my last pregnancy and how the end result was the death of my baby before I met her. No matter how bad I wished and wanted her to live, her heart stopped beating. When people fail to see this huge blessing we're currently waiting for in the lens of what we've been through, it's very hurtful. I don't know if I'm half crazy, but it makes me feel defensive for my first baby. What about her? Why did she die? Was I not positive enough? (I know the answer is no, but those questions run through my mind like a raging river when I feel bombarded by people I suppose just outside the understanding of how a miscarriage taints your perspective).

Okay, I feel like maybe I complain too much about the genuinely well intended statements people have made throughout this journey. And I know no one around me means what I interpret. And none of this is directed at any one person. The majority of people in my life bring nothing but blessing in this season of very mixed feelings. So if you are reading, I am certain the support you give me is appreciated. Thank you.

I look forward to a day when this pain will settle into the background, and I can be elated. When I can give this baby the adoration and anticipation he or she deserves. When my joy as a mother can exceed the joy of those around me. But I'm just not there yet.

Hope Appearing

It's chronologically backwards, but I still want to share that I will forever be grateful for a second chance, for hope, for redemption. I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but worry can't change the result. I'm blessed more than I can understand. 

I haven't been writing as much mostly because we've had a lot going on. D's been pretty sick, unfortunately. The past four months have been a very trying season. I'm hopeful things will get better soon, though. 

Out of Our Hands

After having to reschedule twice, I finally had my phone consult with Dr. K the other day to discuss my miscarriage and next steps. He said the type of testing my local RE sent off for has a high chance of maternal cross contamination so the fact that the testing said normal, in his opinion, may or may not be correct. He said the way the baby always grew behind, was late to get a heartbeat, and had a slow heartbeat when it did indicates something "wrong from the beginning" genetically.

The fact that there were 10 embryos from this batch and not a single one resulted in a birth (between me and the surrogate the donor family used) and that the only one resulted in a pregnancy that was considered “embryonic demise” early on is strangely comforting. In my deepest heart, I feel that the embryo had some damage or mutation and that’s why I miscarried but it's still scary to not know exactly what happened.

He wants me to have a SIS soon to check for scarring/adhesions from my two d&c's and does want me to have another endo scratch this time (Darn, I hated it last time!!!).

I’ll feel unsettled until we have more sweet embryos, but I am feeling more at peace (although still sad). Dr. K ended the conversation with the exact sentiment that has been on my heart lately- how I can control things, he can control things, but in the end some of it will always be out of both of our hands. I pray God will have mercy on me and allow this next transfer to work!  

Everything is Relative

If you're just here for the highlights, you may not be interested in this post. TMI- you've been warned.

I finally finished my first pack of active BCP which I started about a week and half after the d&c. I never thought I could be happy to see CD1. I hope my body is repairing itself. Adhesions (which I am terrified I may have developed) can cause "blockages". I hope having CD1 is a sign I don't have any. And to top it off, now that I'm far enough post d&c, I can finally trade in pads and pantiliners for tampons. Moving on up!

Everything is relative. What would normally be an annoyance at best or a difficult time (such as in a failed cycle) is a joy. Who ever thought I'd want a negative pregnancy test and to be able to use tampons?

Genetic Testing Results

I mentioned that we received our genetic testing results. Unfortunately, all we got was a statement that the baby's profile was "normal" and that "no diagnostic copy number changes were observed". I know this type of testing can't identify every single type of disorder, but it should catch all the major, most likely mutations. 

I know little about genetics because quite frankly I hate science. I hated science in high school. I never dissected an animal. All of my more difficult classes in college were science. I cried before every biology test from the stress and even joined a study group to try to get my grades up (I am a lone ranger student- I hate group projects and studying with other people). My brain just does not easily understand things on the cellular level. Let me write a long paper on a social matter or diagram a sentence any day!

In the little bit of reading I've done online about genetic testing after miscarriages, I found that one concern is the maternal DNA mixing in with the fetal which will skew the results. The analysis paper we received says they take a "careful fetal-tissue microdisection" to maximize the results being just from the baby.

Another concern with genetic testing after a miscarriage is that often they do not get enough tissue of the baby's to even find any type of results. The company that my RE uses claims results in 95% of cases which seems good to me. I am glad that at least enough tissue was able to be found. 

It seems like the testing type and the sample were both good (in my limited knowledge of this topic), so I am frustrated that there are no more answers from this. When I got the results, I was actually very angry. Our baby is dead regardless, but I would rather know it was from a certain diagnosis instead of still having no answers. No answers makes me feel like it could be something on my end. It makes it harder to have closure. I feel like if God allowed the baby to die, couldn't I at least know why? I know that is a very entitled attitude, and probably not a very good one, but it was my initial reaction. Nothing can bring them back, but I want to know.

In the end, I am still glad we did the testing, and I would recommend it for anyone undergoing a d&c (I believe the only way you can have testing since they need to "gather" the tissue during the procedure). More to come in a later post...

Tears

I cried when I saw this on Pinterest last week.

I think because it reminds me of my favorite book I read the embryos. It reminds me of the things our baby will never get to do. I will never really know him or her.

And it reminds me that I don't want to ever forget our baby. I don't want to "move on"; I don't want to be stuck, but I want the baby to always have a place in my heart and mind.

And finally, I think it moves me because I like to imagine the baby is at peace and somehow knows he or she is loved, even if from a distance.

My eyes are tearing up thinking about it all.

The Only Time I Don't Want to See 2 Lines

About 1.5, 2.5, and 3.5 weeks post D&C... getting lighter

After a miscarriage, doctors will commonly order weekly HCG tests to make sure the levels are falling (interestingly, HCG doesn't drop right away with a miscarriage, not even with a D&C- it can stay in your system several weeks!). Since I haven't had my consult with Dr. K, and the nurse never mentioned it in our conversations, I don't have orders and haven't been getting betas drawn. I don't want to drive 2 hours roundtrip to get stuck with a needle and waste the money if I don't have to. A poor man's way to make sure HCG is falling is to test on a 60 cent test rather than a $100 blood test. Not doctor approved but... :)

Impatient

I don't want to jinx myself, but since I'm not truly superstitious I will say it- I think I'm physically on the tail end of the miscarriage/d&c/month-long worst period ever. This makes me happy just as I live my life but also hopefully soon I can schedule the SIS and make sure there's no further damage. November finally seems realistic at this point.

Which brings me to... I am starting to get annoyed with how long we've been waiting just to receive profiles. I asked for them the day of our miscarriage, because D and I had already talked about our plans and intentions during the scare two weeks before. Once we get the profiles, we still have to choose, see if the family agrees to match, and orchestrate another open adoption agreement. I'm ready to get the show on the road.

What Just Can't Be

Well, darn. Last night, I had some symptoms come back. TMI symptoms that are indicative that I am still not healed. I was relieved to know I was already scheduled see an RE this morning. Once I arrived, we had a short chat in the consultation room- not much to talk about since the genetic testing has not yet been received. They should be here within the next few days.

Then, we moved to an exam room. Sure enough, the doctor pointed out the black areas in the middle of the screen (inside what looks like a 'C') which are areas of fluid/tissue in my uterus (TMI: read blood and/or clots). He said the report of what they got from the second d&c was that there was no fetal tissue so he believes all the baby/tissue was successfully removed the first time (there was no way for them to know that without a second d&c, and with the symptoms I was having- bad enough for an ER visit- they were apparently too concerned to wait and see).

The RE said there are a lot of paths people body's take after a miscarriage/d&c and that some people have few symptoms, some people have a lot of symptoms, and some people have sporadic symptoms of both degrees (me). All I can do is continue to wait. Wait for my body to heal.

He did say to talk to Dr. K about a SIS after I finally stop bleeding. This will check for any scar tissue or adhesions that would affect future transfers. I do want to be cautious because I don't want to transfer embryos into a hostile environment. But it is annoying to have to pay for yet another procedure. I wonder if it is coded as infertility or complication of miscarriage? That will make a difference, I'm sure.

I called NEDC immediately after leaving the clinic to cancel my consultation with Dr. K. I want to have the full picture before we discuss plan for transfer #3. The soonest I could reschedule for was the 25th. Rats.

I was really disappointed in the outcome of the morning. When can I catch a break? I know nothing more today except my body is taking a turn backwards. It hurts physically. It's emotionally draining. I can't close this chapter. I can't formulate plans. I have to keep reliving the miscarriage. Who knows if we can even go back by November, at this rate? I don't want to wait until January. It makes me so mad. I'm trying to be patient, but I feel so weary. I want to stomp my feet and ball up my fists and scream at the top of my lungs, "It's not fair"!

I feel like there are three categories of people at the RE. First, the waiting room normally has several couples. They might be clutching the stupid brown folder you get when you sign up with the clinic. They are nervous and hopeful: making idle chat, eyes darting around, or trying to look busy on their phones. They still come together because they haven't missed that much work yet. There were several of those couples there today.

There is a second category. I was in the elevator with two of them today. They have been through strife, but it has worked out. For example, they pull off the stupid blue clinic ID bracelets and toss them in the trashcan on their way out, talking about moving their toddlers to beds to make room for the new babies inside them. They may have their partner there for an ultrasound, clutching the beloved black and white picture. I was in this category for one visit. I know the welling joy, deep inside.

Then there is the third category. From both online and "real life", I know I am not alone in this category. You go by yourself because you can't count how many appointments you've been to. There doesn't seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel; if it is there it is very dim. You go through the motions of consultations and protocols and procedures like a robot because there's not much left in you. You don't want to give up with your dreams, but you wish you didn't have to continue on the path to get there. Every day, somewhere, there is a painful reminder of what just can't be.

Darkest Before the Dawn

Hopeful thoughts that tomorrow can bring some closure to our miscarriage as well as a new, positive chapter towards parenthood. I have an post-op appointment from my d&c in the morning and a consult with Dr. K in the afternoon.

Housekeeping

Emotionally, I am managing better than I would have expected. Maybe since I fully dove into my grief as everything was happening, the only remnants are things it will just take time to process. I actually feel more hopeful now than I did after the failed cycle in May. Who would have thought?

Physically, I am slowly getting back to normal. Monday morning was a doozy. I felt dazed. I couldn't remember my office number when someone asked me (something I recount at least twenty times a day). But I eased back into the grind. I have been tired but have at least had the strength to keep up with a high caseload at work. I look forward to a check-up next week with the RE who did my first d&c, so I can have reassurance I am healing correctly (I'm nervous about adhesions).

I am also looking forward to a phone consult with Dr. K next week to discuss the miscarriage, hopefully results of the genetic testing (fingers crossed it will be back in time!), and any potential additional testing or changes to my protocol he may want to make for next cycle. I assume he will give orders to test my hcg (was 2650 last week at the ER- hopefully it is on the downward trend).

I've spoken with the NEDC about matching with more embryos, but I am still waiting for some profiles. Strangely, I am more patient now than the last two times I've had to wait for profiles. Maybe the gravity of the fact this is potentially our last chance is scary? (Normally you are limited to 3 tries at NEDC, but since my first transfer had only one viable embryo, there's a chance I could have 4 tries from what Dr. K told me after the first failed transfer).

I should enjoy this "down time" before the craziness of rematching then medication protocol starts. Really though, I need to call the monitoring RE to get a print out of all my visits because they've gotten so out of hand that I'm starting to lose track which is not good if I want to a) Make sure insurance is covering the few things they should b) Claim all the pregnancy labwork (the doctor is in network but the lab is not so I have to file those on my own... ridiculous is what it is) c) Have good records for tax time.

And I need to write out all my questions for Dr. K because twenty minutes time at the cost of a hundred bucks needs to be well planned.

And then there's the almost due vet visits that can't be out of compliance because that would make us fail a future homestudy (not really, but it does have to be up to date should we need another homestudy update... please Lord, please Lord, not another homestudy update!!!). Because kids (embryos, in our case) can't be adopted into a home with kitties that have past due shots. The horror of the thought!

"That's Awesome"

We were looking online to see about phone upgrades. Mine is due April 5, 2015.

"That's awesome", is all I could defeatedly muster. 

It will be a long 7 months with many painful reminders, I'm sure. 

Grief is a Patchwork Quilt

Grief is like a patchwork quilt. Every piece is different, but it is knit together as a unit. Every day I feel different. Sometimes every hour I feel different. As long as I don't blame myself or God, I let the feelings come and go, even if some are more true than others.

I don't know a word to describe how it feels to have so many varying thoughts coexist in my spirit all at once. I can't fully reconcile them all yet, but within one single day I find myself saying...

I trust God's sovereignty. His ways are higher. I may never understand this but I trust God is good.

I don't understand why God would let this happen. I try to honor Him. I know my righteousness is filthy rags, but I have Christ. And He had the power to heal. 

This is a broken, fallen world. God didn't cause this, but He allowed it. I don't know why. I may never know why.

Everything is pointless. I feel sad and weak.

I will choose to see the good things that are still left in my life. 

My baby is at peace and never had to experience the painful things of this life.

My baby never got to experience so many wonderful things in life. No laughs or cuddles or meeting family or swinging at the park or going to the zoo. 

I almost wish this cycle would have failed from the beginning. The built up hope that vanished is just too much.

I am grateful that for even a few weeks I was really a mom. I saw a miracle, even if it didn't last. A flickering of light that was a heartbeat.

Maybe we have invested too much in trying to be parents. This has consumed 3 years of our lives, and we are empty handed. Maybe we will reconcile moving on.

I can't imagine ever being at peace with giving up on parenthood. Not yet. 

Why does this have to happen to us? Why can't we have a complete, happy family like so many others I know? 

3 years is longer time of pain than most, but shorter than some. It is possible to continue. My story is not others' story.

I'm scared of another loss. 

His grace is sufficient. His power is made perfect in weakness.

In Between

For the past week and a half, I've just been trying to survive. Get through each day. Process my loss. It helps me, I think, that I anticipated the loss after the first bad ultrasound. I started disconnecting and mourning then. Now, I think I'm ready to move to the next phase. I'm still sad, and I know some days will be worse than others. But I don't want to be depressed. I want to heal. I want to look towards the future. I believe something good can still happen.

I started back on all my normal vitamins and supplements. I didn't feel like there was a point to bother taking them after the miscarriage was official. I finally feel I need to get my strength back up after two surgeries, blood loss, sudden drop in hormones, and the saddest loss of my life. I'm looking forward to getting back to walking and pilates, just in time for the cooler weather and fall leaves to arrive.

I am in between the loss of my first baby and the preparation to be healthy for my second (I hope).

Always Knew Love

From the moment we got the email that our donors approved us to adopt their embryos, we loved them. Their genetic parents loved them, and so did we. Four parents' worth of love. Their extended family prayed for us and loved them, as did our families. So much love. Carol, the embryologist, thawed them with love, I am sure. Once they were transferred, it crossed my mind dozens of times a day that they were with me. It is comforting to me to know they always knew love!

I still miss all of them, especially the one I knew the best, but I also remember they were wrapped in love and never experienced the pain of this earth. The selfish part of me wishes my baby was still coming next spring. If he or she can't be with me, I am glad the baby is with God in an unbroken, safe, perfect place.