Paranoia?

I'm sure, based on my history, this is totally normal. Totally understandable and totally expected. But damn! I possibly have another 10 weeks of this? I will be 30 weeks on Friday. Thumper is getting bigger and probably going to start running out of room soon. I get that. I understand that I will feel less strong movements. I get that I will feel less intense kicks and more jabs or rolls. That doesn't mean I won't worry about it.

When I was pregnant with Benjamin I told my midwife numerous times that he wasn't as active as I thought he should be. 'Every pregnancy is different' 'every baby is different' 'Jackson was a very active baby, this baby is just more relaxed'. Blah blah blah. I knew all of this. I told myself all of this too. I'm sure it was all true. I'm sure that's all it was. There was no reason to think that Benjamin would one day just stop moving all together. He was active and 'normal' right up until the day he died. There was no way to know that his life was in danger. Easy to tell myself that, not so easy to believe it.

A few times a day I find myself wondering if Thumper is as active as she 'should' be. If I haven't felt much movement for a while I almost convince myself that she is dead. It's a horrible thing to do, but it happens just the same. If she's not moving very much, or if she isn't kicking strongly I convince myself it's because she's weak from poor blood flow. I have no reason to think that her blood isn't flowing properly. No reason to think that there is anything wrong. But then again, I didn't last time either.

Ten weeks of this left. Ten weeks. Ten weeks to wonder if today is going to be the day. Will I wake up and realize that she hasn't been moving? Will I wonder when the last time she moved was? Will I have to face that nightmare again? As gut wrenching as it is, at least I know now that I could handle it. Plus I'm prepared for it this time. How sad is that? How sad is it that I am prepared to find out my baby has died? Where is the blissful naivity of my first pregnancy? Or hell, even my second pregnancy? It makes me sad (and mad) to know that Thumper doesn't get that. She doesn't get the excitement and joy that her mommy should feel when she thinks about the day she will be born. Instead she gets doubt and guarded optimism (as fake as it sometimes feels). She gets a closet full of clothes and diapers hidden from view, just in case the worst happens again. Better to have it all hidden away so that reminder doesn't smack me in the face when I come home with an empty womb and even emptier arms.

She doesn't deserve this. She deserves to be celebrated and joyously looked forward to. She deserves all the love and excitement that both her brothers got. I just wish I could whole-heartedly give it to her. I wish that I could look to October and actually imagine her in my arms, alive and screaming.

On another depressing note... July 11th passed by without a single tear. July 18th did not. I was on vacation, visiting family for the past few weeks. On July 11th I was at my parents cottage, having a nice day. It never dawned on me that Benjamin would have been 8 months old that day. I didn't acknowledge his monthly birthday. I didn't spend part of the day thinking about what should have been. I didn't mourn him. And when I realized that on July 18th, a full week later, I was horrified. How could I have not realized it? How could I have let the day pass without thinking about him every minute? I felt like I had let him down, like I didn't care enough. Like I wasn't mourning him properly. I know it's irrational, but I could not stop myself from thinking those thoughts. I still feel guilty and sad about that.

::sigh::

I had a prenatal appointment today. Everything looks good. Thumper is doing well, I'm doing well, everything is just peachy. And yet, in the middle of the appointment that little nagging bit of doubt crept in there and I had to take a moment to compose myself.

I am 25 weeks pregnant. The baby is roughly 1.5 pounds. Still tiny. I was concerned because the last few times I've used my doppler to listen to her heartbeat it has fluctuated from a strong fast beat to a slower fainter beat. I know that's normal. I know that. But it still freaks me out a bit because the theory is that Benjamin died from a blood clot caused by him compressing his cord. So when Thumper's heart rate slows I just imagine it's because she's planted herself on her cord and is compressing it. And then she'll get a blood clot and die. That is immediately where my mind goes. Even tho, logically, I know it's normal. All babies compress their cords. And most do live.

My doctor assured me that Thumper is still too small to compress her cord. That fluctuations are totally normal. As long as her heart rate is speeding back up quickly then she's fine. That if the heart rate stays below 100 for any length of time then I should be concerned. But basically he told me that, at this point, there is no cause for alarm. Then he went on to state that what happened to Benjamin was a total fluke, like being struck by lightening, and it should not happen to one person more than once. He must have sensed my reaction to that statement because he went on to state that he knows I won't believe that until I am holding this baby safe and healthy in my arms. I just cannot put any faith in statistics and such. It wasn't supposed to happen once, why shouldn't it happen again.

Then I also got a copy of my files since I am going on vacation next week. I want to take a copy of my pregnancy files just in case I have to go to the hospital while I am away. Obviously I read the files, even though I knew there was going to be a lot of stuff on Benjamin in them. Right at the top it goes over my obstetrical history. It has Benjamin listed as 'induced fetal demise, breech'. And then under the heading for 'present health' it simply has N/A. Not applicable. Obviously I know that is true, but it's just so clinical and harsh. God how I wish it was applicable.

Then in the report from my high risk doctor I am referred to as a G3P1SA1. Curiosity got the better of me and I googled what that meant (damn Google!). G means Gravita, which means woman. The 3 is for 3 pregnancies. P is for Para, which is used for the number of previous successful live births. And SA is for Spontaneous Abortions. So in those short 7 characters you can see that I have had 3 pregnancies, one 'successful live birth' and one 'spontaneous abortion'. A spontaneous abortion? Doesn't that sound nice. So clean and clinical. Now I realize these reports cannot be all compassionate and gloss over the cold hard facts, but damn! That just sounds horrible! Let's hope in October I become a G3P2SA1!

The report went on to state that I should be seen more frequently during this pregnancy for various reasons, including emotional support. "She indeed got pregnant very soon after she lost her baby last November and as a result of that is up for a very emotional, stressful rollercoaster during this pregnancy. There was just no time for her to have grieved properly the recent loss of her baby". Ummm..... I thought there was no right and wrong way to grieve? I thought time would NOT heal all wounds? I thought every one grieved on their own time line? Who's to say this isn't the best way for me to grieve. Who's to say that I am not grieving every freaking day, regardless of the fact that I am pregnant! Who's to say that if I had waited to get pregnant that would not have been harder on me? I want more children. I want a living, breathing, crying, healthy freaking baby in my arms! That does not, in any way, diminish the loss I feel for my son! I can mourn him and at the same time try to be hopeful for this baby. They are not mutually exclusive. I understand that this pregnancy is going to be very emotional and stressful. I think even if I had waited months, or years, it would have been very emotional and stressful. Time will not change that. Time will not erase the pain of losing Benjamin. It will not make the hurt and disbelief that it happened or the belief that it might happen again go away. I will feel this way for every pregnancy I have, regardless of how much time I have had to grieve my sweet baby Benjamin.

I washed all my baby clothes this weekend. I had a bunch that a friend gave to me before she moved. They are all boy's clothes. A bunch of them had small stains on them because her son was a big spitter-upper and was on medication for it that stained clothes. I was able to get almost all the stains out, which I was very pleased about because the clothes are really cute. I also washed the big bag of girl clothes my sister handed down to me. Most of them are 12 months or older. So if Thumper is indeed a girl she's going to be wearing a whole lot of blue, lol! But I'll wait to go shopping until I get a better indication of the gender of this stubborn little baby! I go for another ultrasound on August 5th, so lets hope s/he is a little less modest at that scan!

So that's my update for today.

A trip to labour and delivery

I think this might have been #1 of potentially many trips to labour and delivery for me this pregnancy. For a few days last week I had been crampy but had just attributed it to doing too much around the house. Then on Friday afternoon I was out grocery shopping and got pretty intense heart palpitations and then everything went black. I didn't actually pass out but it left me dizzy and shaky. As soon as I was done shopping I went to work to see Brian. After discussing it for a while we decided that I should go to L&D, just to be safe.

I was terrified to go. I wasn't worried that there would be any problems with Thumper since she was moving around like crazy all day. I was just terrified that they would put me in assessment room #1. That's where I went when my blood pressure was through the roof with Jackson and that's where I went when they told me Benjamin had died. That room is not a good room for me. I could not bear the thought of going into that room again after the last time I was in there.

As soon as I got to the nurses station I started bawling. I just knew they would tell me to go in that room. They guessed that I thought I was in labour. I said no but couldn't get anything else out. Then they told me to go to Assessment room #1. I immediately said 'no, I don't want to go in that room' and I think with the fear in my voice and the sobbing they figured out right away not to put me in there. Instead they sent me to room #3.

Room #3 is a fantastic room for me. The best room on the floor. I would happily spend every day of this pregnancy in that room. That was the room that Jackson was born in. That is the room that wonderful, amazing, awe-inspiring things happen in. That is the room that I became a mom in. ONLY good things can happen in that room.

I told the nurse why I was there and what my history is. I told her about Benjamin. She was wonderful, as I'm suspecting all the nurses at this hospital are. The doctor came in and took my full history, then started checking me out. They listened to the baby's heart beat (152 bpm), they checked my blood pressure (a bit high, but I think it was just the anxiety from being there), they checked my blood oxygen level, they ran blood work, they even did an EKG. They were very very thorough. The doctor said that he was probably being overly cautious and doing some unnecessary tests, but with my history they'd rather be overly thorough than miss something. Everything came back normal. They don't know why I was crampy or why I almost blacked out. But I am fine now.

I am glad that I went though. They were so wonderful to me. The nurse told me that I would never be seen as a bother or anything, that they would rather see me every day for the rest of this pregnancy than miss that one time that I should have come in. They only want me to have a healthy screaming baby at the end of this. It gave me so much reassurance to know that any time I feel off in the slightest that I should not hesitate to go to l&d. Normally I have a problem with that. I hate feeling like I am inconveniencing people or overreacting to something. But they made me feel better about it, helped me understand that I have every right to react strongly to any concerns this pregnancy. And they totally made me feel welcome there.

And the nurse put it on my chart that I am not to be seen in Assessment Room #1. I would rather be seen in the hall than go back in that room. Phawoo.

A good day

I started a support group with another mom that lost a baby. We've had a few meetings now and seem to get a new member every month. That sounds impressive but considering we've only been having meetings for 3 months now that just means that there are now 5 members of our group, lol. At our last meeting we were talking about giving birth. One of the members was talking about how she's only had cesarean sections and really wants to experience a vaginal birth. That got all of us talking about giving birth and all the positive experiences and feelings of it. For the first time this pregnancy I had flutterings of excitement.

I love giving birth. I am one of those odd women that enjoys going into labour, going through the hours of labour leading up to the birth, and then that glorious moment when the baby first comes out and you feel that sudden change. That change from being one being with your baby to suddenly having them out in the world, out into your arms. Where you can look at them, kiss them, hold them in your arms and just be in pure utter awe of them. All the hours of discomfort, pain, excitement and fear just dissipate in that moment. And there he is, your baby, your glorious baby.

My labour and delivery with Jackson was textbook. It had it's moments of worry but all in all it was a beautiful experience. My labour and delivery with Benjamin was as good as it could have been given the circumstances. I still had that moment when he first came out and I got to see him. Granted it was bittersweet, but it was still that moment that you wait for. That moment to finally see the little bean that has been kicking, punching, rolling, and hiccuping away inside of you. To finally see face to face who you've gotten to know over those past few months.

So on Friday I finally had that excitement. That flutter in my gut and in my heart when I thought about when Thumper would be born. I was actually able to imagine that moment when Thumper becomes his/her own separate entity and the doctor places him/her on my chest and I can just gaze at the glory that is my new baby. I'm not ready yet to imagine that the baby that is placed on my chest will be living, breathing and screaming, but I know I'll get there.

It was a good day.

How are babies made?

Obviously I know how a baby is made. But how is it possible for a perfect little baby to be born. Alive. With all it's limbs, fingers, toes, internal organs, etc. How is it possible for a baby to stay in the safe comforting womb for 9 months and then be born? Healthy? With no medical issues? It just blows my mind.

Ever since Benjamin was born I have spent some time on different grief support boards on the internet. It shocks and saddens me to read so many personal accounts of 'what should have been' turning into 'what should never happen'. There is so much sadness and so many young lives lost before they even truly began. It just doesn't make sense.

What amazes me more than the mind blowing number of losses is the fact that there are SO many healthy babies born. When I was pregnant with Benjamin I was a member on an expecting club on the internet. All these women were due in December too. On that board there were many women who left our group early in their pregnancies. You expect this. Any pregnant woman knows the rough estimates of early miscarriage. You know that almost a quarter of all known pregnancies will end in an early miscarriage. This knowledge does not make an early loss any less devastating and in fact it really increases the anxiety during the first critical couple weeks. On this particular board there were well over a hundred woman (I have no idea how many there really were, but it seemed like a ton!). By the beginning of January everyone had had their babies. Of all these women there was one baby that died very shortly after birth (Ruby), another that died three and a half days after birth (Bregan), and one stillborn (Benjamin). Way too many losses, but amazing to think that out of all these women there were *only* three babies that lost their lives too early. How the hell did so many babies make it?

There are so many things that can go wrong in a pregnancy. So many things that can go wrong during the labour and delivery. So many things that can go wrong in the days following birth. And then don't even get me started on the whole SIDS topic. It amazes me that Jackson has made it to 2 years (tomorrow!) with no lasting problems. How did we make it? Even though I know the odds are that a baby will be born healthy and living, it still feels like we defied the odds with him. Like we are lucky as all get-out that he is with us.

I had a doctor appointment the other day with a fill-in doctor and we got to talking about all my pregnancies. I told her about when Jackson was born and how he had severe jaundice and how the doctors thought it must have been a blood incompatibility issue for his bili levels to be that high. But then I had no antibodies, so it was rare that his levels got that high. Then with Benjamin dying from blood clots in his cord, with neither Brian nor I having blood clotting issues. So it was incredibly rare for that to have happened at all. Then with this baby having the cyst on it's brain. Not incredibly rare, but only 1-3% of all fetus' have them. You know, I'd really like a pregnancy that is normal. I'm not looking for rare cases and having 'special' pregnancies. Just a plain ole run of the mill pregnancy would suit me just fine thanks.

A difficult week

This week has been hard. Surprisingly hard.

Sunday was Mother's Day. I thought about Benjamin a lot, thought about how this is the first Mother's Day that I am a mother to two boys. Yet only one of them was there to celebrate it with me. To give me kisses and hugs. It just wasn't right. But it was still a good day. Brian and Jackson gave me a present for the day. It was a big Ficus Benjamina. A perfect gift for the day.

Monday was six months since Benjamin was born. The day hit me like a ton of bricks. I was fine for the morning but as the day wore on it just got harder and harder to resist crawling into bed and just crying the day away. I couldn't stop thinking about how our lives should have been that day. He should be perfecting sitting up, babbling at me with his chubby little face, grabbing at me with his chubby little hands. He should have been having his first taste of solid foods. I should have been taking his 6 month birthday photo. It just was not right that he was not here to do all the things. It's unreal to me that he has been gone for six months. Half a year. That is just too long. I can't believe I have made it this long without him. It surprises and slightly saddens me that I don't seem to mourn him as badly as I used to. I know it's 'normal' and I know it's healthy but it still just seems wrong somehow. Like I've moved on and put him in my past. And that's not true. He's still a big part of my life, a big part of my thoughts and he always will be. Time will never change that.

Tuesday I had my 'big ultrasound'. When the ultrasound technician started the scan she focused on checking my cervix and the placenta and all that. I immediately asked her to please first find the baby's heartbeat. I needed to see that first. A big part of me was terrified that the baby would not have a heartbeat. But s/he did and it was beating strong and healthy. Everything about the baby looks good except for one tiny issue. The baby has a cyst on the brain. Apparently it is quite common (1-3% of all fetus' have them) and not harmful at all. The only concern with them is that there is a slight correlation between these cysts and Trisomy 18 and 21. In most cases the cyst just disappears on it's own by the third trimester. I have my doctor appointment tomorrow so we'll go over this then. I will also be getting my blood screening tests back tomorrow which will tell me my odds of this baby having T18 or T21. And my gestational diabetes tests will also be back. It's going to be a full appointment.

Friday is Brian and my 5th anniversary. Five years. That's a long time and yet it feels like I have known and loved him for many more years than only five. We've been through so much and are such a stronger couple than I ever thought we would have to be. He knows just what to do when I am having a hard time. On Monday when I finally broke in the evening he just sat beside me and held me, letting me get his shirt soaked with tears and snot, lol! He didn't try to reason with me, didn't try to talk me down, just let me get it all out in my own time. Exactly what I needed him to do.

I also have another grief support group on Friday night. This is a group that Heather and I started. There is no support group for pregnancy and infant loss in our area. That amazed us and we felt there was such a need for one that we started it ourselves. We've had two meetings so far. The first meeting included the two of us and my friend that just lost her baby. The second meeting had the three of us and then another couple who lost their beautiful son to SIDS. This week we might have two new members. This is not the type of group that you think 'the more the merrier'. Every new member means that another baby has died. But I am so glad that we are all able to be there for each other. I know how alone a newly bereaved parent can feel.

So that's my week. Kinda sucks eh?

A good poem

“A Pair of Shoes”

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are, might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes, you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in this world.
Some woman are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don’t hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

- Author unknown