Two Altars, Of Sorts

Sadly, we now have four candles to light in remembrance of our lost little ones. On top of this bookcase, snug in the corner of our dining room, are the candles, one for each of our lost babies. There is also a figurine of a mother and father holding a baby; it is for L, given to us the day she was born. So something for each of our children on what has become our family altar of sorts. The picture is of hubby and I, in the hospital, holding Micah. Along the top of the frame it reads "Those we have held in our arms a little while we hold in our hearts forever" and at the bottom is his name and birth/death date. Behind the frame are some of the flowers we were given after his death, carefully dried and lovingly arranged.

Lighting candles in honor of my lost babies has been a ritual for me for years. The candle on the left is the one we bought in honor of Andrew, the baby we lost in our first pregnancy that ended in miscarriage. It has been lit so many times that the wick refuses to catch flame anymore and I fill it with tea lights now. Buying a new candle just seems wrong somehow.

And so I light the same candles, over and over, and remember my babies. I say their names, pray for their souls, pray for our family, miss my missing children and shed tears over the lost hopes and dreams we had for them.

This morning was a rough one. There were lots of tears and the sorrow was oppressively heavy. So I lit candles. Candles for my babies and candles for your babies. And I made a new altar, one for Micah and all your babies, all the babies I've learned of and prayed for and all the mamas that without Micah's death I wouldn't have had the pleasure of getting to know. This altar isn't perfect yet, I had to make do with the things I could scrounge up around the house, but it is lovely in my sight today and healing to my heart, even without the perfect trappings I would like to have for it.

That's my boy there in the picture frame, my favorite picture of him. His urn is behind the frame and a sweet gift box sits next to it, filled with tiny shells I picked out for him while on our trip to the beach a few days after he died.

The wooden heart shaped box next to the frame is full of the names of all your babies. I pulled four out today and lit candles in their honor - George, Otis, Chai and Toren. I put their names in the golden dish next to the candles that is filled with little trinkets and dried petals from roses we were given after his death.

I am so honored to have met you all, even under the incredibly hard circumstances that have brought us together. The support and kindness and love you have shown me through your comments and emails have often been what pulls me back from the darkness. I want you all to know that you and your babies are always in my prayers. And now, each day, I will pull fresh names from that wooden heart, light four candles aflame, and pray for you and for them.

Well, That Was Embarrassing

Goodness, I am a bit embarrassed about my screechy, bitter, foul-mouthed rant I posted yesterday. I'm not sure how it came across to all of you, hopefully as just an emotional post with too much profanity (I'm sorry about that, I hardly ever use those words in real life) and too many sad stories of babies being treated badly (all true. isn't it horrible?) but when I go back and read what I wrote yesterday it sounds just like it did in my head - my voice, shrill and warbled from all the anger, spewing forth a bunch of pent-up negative emotions.

So, sorry about that. I do feel better now, though.

****

My obstetrician and hematologist have talked and come up with a plan of attack for the next (possible) pregnancy. After my next period I will go in for a saline infused ultrasound (anybody have any experiences to share about that?) to make sure there isn't anything funky in the ol' uterus like a polyp or fibroid or bit of placenta from a previous pregnancy. It will also give us a better picture of just how misshapen the uterus is. If something funky is found, we'll remove it. About that time I'll also be having a consult at the teaching hospital with the doctor that trained my hematologist just to make sure we're not missing anything on that side of things. I've had a ton of blood drawn (seriously, they did my left arm till it wouldn't bleed anymore and then my right arm till it wouldn't bleed anymore either and that still left half a vial not full but we're hoping it will be enough) to run every test they could think of and we'll be getting results from all that in the next few weeks. So, hopefully in the next month or so we'll get the all clear from all of this and then, if we want, we can try again. More on the whole trying again business another day.

****

One of those sad stories of babies being treated badly, the one where the pregnant mom was beaten so badly that it fatally injured the unborn child, that was a story from my best friend who is a pediatrician in Texas. The baby was born a few days ago and they had been counseling the mother on removing life support since the baby was essentially dead at birth. Best Friend called last night, crying, to tell me that for the last 48 hours she had been so distraught and she thought it was because of this case but she had the realization yesterday that it was really about Micah and how she hadn't properly mourned for him and how she hadn't allowed herself to really delve into what we were going through and when she realized all this she went to talk to the mom of that baby.

Crying, Best Friend told the mom about us and Micah and how hard it was and that if there was any hope, any hope at all that her baby would make it, that they wouldn't be counseling her on removing life support. Best Friend cried with this mother and grieved with this mother and told this mother that it was okay to hold her baby (she had wanted to but had been afraid) and helped this mother to make plans for the final bit of time she had with her baby.

If there could be a silver lining to Micah's death, I guess this would be it, that another grieving mother could be helped because of him.

Best Friend and I talked about how many physicians would classify crying with that mother as being unprofessional. I told her that I didn't think it was unprofessional at all, that it was human, that this woman's baby was dying and that's really sad. Why shouldn't people, physicians or not, show that through their emotions and recognize that it's damn hard to lose a baby? About a week after Micah died my obstetrician apologized for crying at his birth and said the same thing, that it was unprofessional. But we were really touched by her emotion and I told her that it's comforting to know that other people are upset that our baby died, too.

It makes me think of these lyrics from the Jack Johnson song The News:

Why don't the newscasters cry when they read about people who die?
At least they could be decent enough to put just a tear in their eyes.

What do you think? Is it appropriate for a physician or nurse or other medical professional to show emotion when somebody dies? Professional, unprofessional, does it matter?

An Angry Tirade

Thank you everyone. Thank you for the kind comments and sweet emails and checkings-in-on-me. I appreciate it more than I can express. And I'm sorry I haven't responded, I'm sorry, it's just that I feel so overwhelmed at the moment that I feel as if I'm just walking in circles all day. And with L home with me all day it doesn't leave me much time to grieve or be sad or not pretend as if everything isn't great, great, great! The poor girl has been through so much since Micah died that I just can't foist anymore sadness or dead baby or sorrow on her.

People have offered their help, but I have only taken my mother up on the offer because she has a very child friendly house with toys and books and games for L and L loves to be there. So L spent Monday afternoon through yesterday morning with my mom while I stayed home with hubby and miscarried. The actual miscarriage happened Tuesday morning. We named this baby Alex (we never had a strong girl or boy feeling and felt it was a good name either way) and buried him (just calling the baby a him for convenience) under the mimosa tree in the backyard, right next to the spot where we buried Abigail. It was gray and raining which seemed very appropriate for the occasion.

The other reason I have not taken people up on their offers of help is because I am pretty damn angry at the moment - at just about everyone and everything. After all the previous baby deaths I tried to be understanding, as much as possible, of the stupid things people said. I am not feeling so generous right now. If one more person makes some stupid f-ing comment that makes it out to be my fault that we keep losing babies I just might go crazy. Or hit somebody. Or something equally bad and rage-y.

A more rational person would say that people are just trying to help. They are concerned and don't want us to feel anymore pain. And that is why they keep saying things like "we'll just have to get Jenn stronger, do some tai chi, before the next time" or "it would probably be a good idea to go see another doctor" or "my doctor told me to wait at least a year before trying again (never mind the fact that your loss occurred 30 years ago and was caused by a problem that I do not have)" or any of the other stupid crap that people have said. Perhaps all these folks don't realize they are insinuating that through some lack on my part, some little thing I messed up, some food I didn't eat, that because of some reason that they, in all their amazing medical and obstetric knowledge, are fully aware of, but alas, I am not, that it's my fault our babies keep dying.

It makes me want to scream. Do they really not get it that they are suggesting that because I haven't/didn't/won't eat more garlic, exercise more, exercise less, get acupuncture, see some random physician, stop using deodorant, get more ultrasounds, get less ultrasounds, wait more time in between pregnancies (um, hello, our only successful pregnancy so far occurred at the shortest interval between pregnancies), eat pineapple cores, take this vitamin, take that vitamin, stop stressing and relax, do meditation, etc. that I have killed these babies? I really do not like the suggestion, however innocent and misguided, that I have done something to kill my children.

For goodness sake, I am doing everything I can. I go to all the doctor's appointments. I get my blood drawn, repeatedly. I pee in the cups. I eat well. I take my prenatal and DHA and B complex vitamins. I use progesterone suppositories twice a day. I inject myself with blood thinner every night. I exercise. I pray. I read my Bible. I go to church. I beg and plead and cry and wail for my babies to be born alive.

To hell with them for suggesting that I do otherwise.

Yes, I have some issues. A bicornuate uterus, a blood clotting problem, low progesterone. Here's the thing though, the two treatable problems, we treat. Hence the suppositories and injections. There's nothing I can do about my misshapen uterus. And there is absolutely no evidence that any of my issues had anything to do with any of our losses. I want to tattoo on my forehead the fact that around 25% of all pregnancies end in miscarriage. Micah's death was a cord accident, there isn't any medication I could have taken or food I could have eaten or fucking meditation I could have done to prevent his death.

I mean, come on! Parents who shouldn't get babies get them all the time. Mothers who use drugs, fathers who beat their pregnant wives so badly it injures their unborn children to the point of essentially killing them such that the mothers then have to be counseled in removing life support once the child is born, parents who would leave their two young children alone in an apartment while they go for a walk and are so incredibly lucky that their youngest is caught in an amazing rescue after he wanders out a fucking window, mothers who don't feed their children enough to keep them alive, fathers who purposefully drive their trucks into the nursery of their 10 day old baby, killing the baby and the baby's mother, etc. etc.

These people get babies and I don't? What the fuck is up with that? I know this is a slippery slope, the whole who deserves babies and who doesn't business, and I'm not trying to get into that argument today, all I'm saying is this shit isn't fair.

It's not fair. It's just not fair that five months after my son dies during labor I'm faced with grieving my third baby lost to miscarriage.

It's so not fair and it makes me so angry and I hate that there is nothing I can do about it and that if Micah had just lived (Why, God, why didn't you save him?) I wouldn't have been out in the cold rain Tuesday morning, standing next to my husband with his shovel in his hand, praying over another dead baby.

It's Over

No heartbeat on the ultrasound today. Bleeding has picked up. Miscarriage number 3 right around the corner.

I may be quiet for awhile, but I'll still be thinking of all of you.

xx

Scared

Been having some spotting and light bleeding on and off all weekend. Am nervous as hell. Have a regularly scheduled OB appointment on Tuesday, will be calling the office first thing in the morning though to try to get in sooner as I don't think I can wait until then.

Have had spotting/light bleeding in all four other pregnancies, but in the two that didn't end in miscarriage I don't think I've had two days worth at a time.

Am very scared. Hold me?

Personal Effects

When I really think about it, there are only a handful of things that were truly Micah's. Yes, we had tons of hand me down clothes and cloth diapers and toys and even a few new things, like the little brown and white polka dot baby blanket I still sleep with every single night, but things that were really his, things that actually touched him, that were used in the care of him, that didn't just sit at home unused and empty and void, waiting, waiting for the day that never came, the day when we would bring him home alive and well and needing diapers and clothes and toys, those things, there are only a few.

Two outfits actually touched his skin. A blue and white striped outfit, the softest and warmest little outfit I could find, this was to be his going home outfit. I searched all throughout my pregnancy for that special outfit, sometimes finding something almost right, buying it, but then taking it back after realizing it was not exactly what I was looking for. As I mentioned, we had lots and lots of hand me downs and it was very important to me that he have something new, something just for him, to wear home from the hospital. I found the outfit a few weeks before giving birth, but unfortunately they didn't have the top in his size. I bought the pants anyway and then searched and searched for something to go with it, never finding anything that was a perfect match. The evening before he was born, already in labor, I took hubby back to that store and lo and behold they suddenly had the top in his size. What a lovely little thing that was, to find that top. We took it home, washed it by hand and dried it so it would be all ready for him to wear home soon.

Of course, never to actually happen. Instead of wearing it home, it's the one and only outfit he was photographed in and it was actually a bit big for him, which didn't add to the quality of the photos. It's also what he was dressed in for the viewing and funeral. The funeral home did a great job of making it appear as if the outfit fit him perfectly. I wish I would have thought to do that a bit for the pictures we took. The other item of clothing that actually touched him was a little sleeper that we left him in when we went home from the hospital, his special outfit folded in my bag so I could wash it and have it as nice as possible for the funeral service. I don't know what I was so worried about, it's not like he got it dirty or something, but I had to wash it and have it fresh for him to wear again.

Other actual Micah items - the blankets he was wrapped in at the hospital, his ankle band, the little brush the nurses used after bathing him, a little white hat and a pair of baby blue socks. Come to think of it, I don't think the funeral home returned the hat and socks to us. Ah, three of the things that were really his and I don't even have them. This realization is making me cry.

It just seems so wrong to me, so very wrong, that the whole of his personal effects can be counted on my fingers. There is a rather large wooden chest at the end of my bed full of things that were his - things bought just for him, gifts given for him, sympathy cards, copies of all our pictures, etc., but the actual amount of things really his would fill a small box. And then, the actual amount of him, fills only a small urn. Again, more storage space than is really needed as I bought a medium sized urn. I just didn't like any of the small ones.

I know people are not the sum of their possessions. I know this, but either way you look at it - as his possessions or his actual self, or quite possibly, both - his entire life fits into a small box.

Missing him so much today and wishing there was more for him, more for me, more for our family. Wishing so much there was just more.

Confusing Progress

Well, we had our regularly scheduled appointment this morning and OB is feeling very enthusiastic. We had a great ultrasound - bubs is measuring 6w3d now (was 5w6d on Friday) and had a bigger, stronger heartbeat. Consistent, perfect growth since last Monday when all we had was a gestational sac measuring 5w.

So that's all well and good. I know. I should be so happy. And I am. But I'm also so worried. Why is this pregnancy measuring a week behind what I think it should? I think my chart is pretty clear on when ovulation occurred**:


And going with the due date I was given today, 7/1/11, that means I would have gotten a positive pregnancy test 4 days past ovulation. Isn't that impossible?

I can't help but wonder if this baby got off to a slow start for a reason and one day soon this will all be over. I am trying to ignore all these worries and just be glad for the good news we've gotten, but I know first hand that things don't always turn out the way we want them to.

On the other hand, I've read (stories, nothing backed by science or research. I can't help it, I'm desperate) that some women who have a retroverted uterus can get misleading results from early ultrasounds simply because it's hard to get a good look when the uterus is tilted back. Many of the stories I've read have ended up with a baby suddenly catching up to the original dates and I'm so hoping that's the case here. I'm hoping that all of this is just a problem with getting a good look in my retroverted uterus and that next week or the week after bubs will suddenly be all caught up and due on 6/26/11.

Having babies die on you really makes it hard to just enjoy a subsequent pregnancy.

**I've been charting for about 6 years, regardless of our TTC status and consider myself pretty experienced in interpreting my charts. I really don't see how I could have ovulated later. The only thing I could agree to is two days after the recorded ovulation date and I think even that is pushing it.

We Have A Heartbeat!

Had some spotting this afternoon (don't know if I should be worried or not. I've spotted and/or bled in all four previous pregnancies) so my OB got us right in for an ultrasound. I expected the worst and was completely floored when we saw a tiny heartbeat. The three of us (me, hubby, the doc) all stared at the screen for a bit and then took turns saying, is that a heartbeat? do you see that heartbeat? it's really a heartbeat!

It's still early. We are still measuring behind (5w6d, should be 6w5d or thereabouts) but the gestational sac has grown, there is a yolk sak and fetal pole and heartbeat which wasn't there on Monday. We've gained 6 days since Monday (the gestational sac measured 5 weeks at best on Monday). So I'm going to take what I can get and I will take a heartbeat and growth, yes I will.

Regular appointment is still scheduled for Monday so we'll have another look then. OB said to go ahead and start the Lovenox tonight, so I'm back on shots already even though I don't see the hematologist until next week. I have never been so excited to shoot myself.

Still praying and crossing my fingers and hoping that this will turn out well. Not convinced yet, but certainly a bit more hopeful.

Crazy Little Thing Called Control

I am working my way up to being a first class control freak.

Since Micah died I have done the following:

- gone through the closets to make sure all hangers match, height-wise at least. They are not all the same color (I wish they were) but I got rid of all the ones that had the shoulders of shirts higher or lower than most of the others.

- go through mail like a fiend. I frequently throw things out that hubby will ask for later, but in the moment it seems like crap to get rid of.

- organized L's toys over and over again. Organized the toy closet repeatedly. Gone through toys and put many in the garage to take to Goodwill two or three times. Ditto with the books.

- cleaned out the garage three times

- rearranged furniture repeatedly

- hung things and then re-hung things and then took them down and hung them in another spot again (much to the chagrin of hubby who is really the one doing all the hanging)

- pared down my email inbox from well over a thousand emails to maybe 50. I delete emails all the time now, too. Can't stand for it to feel cluttered.

- gone through almost every drawer in this house, cleaning it out and throwing away tons of stuff

- completely gutted and refiled everything in my filing cabinet (that's a lot of crap, by the way)

- etc, etc.

I think I am trying to control what I can at this point in my life through cleaning and organizing and throwing stuff out. Many times since Micah died I have felt a deep desire to just drag most of what we own out into the front yard and burn it all. The house feels so cluttered and closed in, even though I know rationally it's not. It's actually more open and less cluttered than it ever has been.

It's crazy all the different little kinds of crazy that creep into your life after your baby dies.

Top Of The Worry Scale

Thanks everyone for the kind words and prayers and thoughts and support. It really means a lot. Really.

I don't really know what to say. I am worried. It is not what I wanted to see. When I've had ultrasounds around 6 weeks in previous pregnancies we've always seen a strong heartbeat. I have a bit of hope because of stories like yours, Merry and Frustrated Fairy and a friend I know here in real life who had an awful chain of events happen to her.

After her first IVF they got pregnant but her hcg wasn't doubling. It was rising at an okay rate, but not doubling. She had an ultrasound and doctor couldn't find anything in her uterus. That coupled with the hcg levels led him to believe it was ectopic. She was given methotrexate. Her hcg then started to take off so she was given methotrexate again. Her hcg continued to rise so she was scheduled for a d&c. The doctor (different from the one who gave her the methotrexate) did an ultrasound before the d&c and found a 7 week fetus in her uterus. Can you imagine? 7 weeks is when she took the methotrexate for the first time. So, she has the d&c. They go for a consult with a new fertility doc who does an ultrasound to check her ovaries and notices the fetus is still there. Finally, at 12 weeks, she miscarried on her own. She will forever wonder whether that baby would have lived if she hadn't taken the methotrexate.

Early ultrasounds are not foolproof.

****

I am hoping and crossing everything and praying that Monday we see something more positive. I am hoping and crossing everything and praying that the bad results of that ultrasound were because of my retroverted and bicornuate uterus, which supposedly can hinder early ultrasounds.

And, honestly, I am not much more worried than I was before the scan. I was pretty much already at the top level of the worry scale so I don't really have much more room for worry growth. I was already worried about miscarriage and I still am. So I kind of feel like not much has changed.

Nothing I can do to change things, anyway. Just trying to make the time go by as fast as I can.

Again.

Again. Again. I can't believe this is happening again.

Had my 6 week ultrasound today and it wasn't good. I should be 6 weeks 2 days but the gestational sac measured only 4.5 - 5 weeks. No fetal pole, heartbeat, etc, which should have been visible today.

Repeat ultrasound scheduled for Monday but I can't see how this is going to end well. Miscarriage number 3 will probably be coming soon. If my body doesn't do it's thing by then, I imagine Monday will bring a script that will take care of it.

You guys, this sucks.