Reincarnation

Hi Everyone! Happy Friday!

So I'm going to get a little weird and "new-agey" on you today...back to regularly scheduled programming next week, I promise...

I know this woman who lost her firstborn, a full-term baby, at birth, and then went on to have another healthy baby. We talked one day about reincarnation, about how she, during her second pregnancy, wondered if the baby she lost would come back to her as the new baby. She told me it was something she thought about a lot, and was open to the possibility of it happening. And then she had the new baby. And she knew right away that it wasn't the same soul or whatever you want to call it...that this new baby had no connection to the first.

This is something I've been thinking about, mostly in relation to my brother who died.

Someone claiming psychic abilities told me once years ago that he (my brother) would come back to me as my child, that he would once again take care of me. (Part of why it was so hard to lose my brother was that when he died we were living together and were each other's major support system...it's been awful having that gone from my life.)

So there is the question: Will one of these babies be my brother reincarnated? Or, for that matter, the baby girl we lost last spring? I don't need it to be, and I certainly don't expect it, but I do think it's a possibility. 

And based on what my friend who lost her baby said, I think I'll know...

I feel so weird talking about this...but it's been on my mind, so...

Hope everyone has a lovely weekend. Thanks for spending some time here this week. :)

XOXO

Due Date

I should have known something was wrong when I started getting upset this morning for no reason. I mean, I have annoying conference calls all the time. And my email suddenly isn't working, but that's no big deal. That's fixable. Like my dad says, if you can throw money at it and fix it, it isn't a problem.

Driving over to my Mom and Dad's for lunch, I started bawling...I mean, not just a few tears, but a full-on breakdown. And then I knew what was wrong.

The baby I miscarried in April, she was supposed to be born right about today.

I try not to think about what happened last spring with the miscarriage, and maybe that's a mistake. Subconsciously, I know. It sneaks up on me. And it hurts so much.

It's days like this I feel like everything I've been through has broken me beyond repair. I just get so scared. I try so hard to have everything be OK and to count my blessings and move forward, but sometimes I  just feel like I can't bear all that has been given to me.

But what is there to do, except keep getting up every morning and try?

And I WILL have babies...or I hope that I will. There are two babies growing inside me, but I've been scared, especially these past few weeks, that something is going to happen to them. I'll just start crying about it for no reason, telling my husband I don't think I have the strength to try again if something happens. And I've been having very vivid miscarriage dreams.

Deep breaths. I'm sure everything is going to look better tomorrow.

Hope everyone has a lovely weekend. Thanks for spending some time here this week.

XOXO

Image credit: Fighunt via Etsy.

11 Weeks 5 Days

11 weeks 5 days pregnant today...the day we found out last spring our baby girl had died (we lost our baby at 9 weeks, but it was a missed miscarriage, so we didn't know what had happened until a couple weeks after the fact).

Feeling sad about that lost baby today...I would have been due with her in just over a month...I so wish I was about to have that baby.

Looking at it from a different angle (that of my current pregnancy), everything after today is new territory. Feeling lucky and grateful to have made it this far. Hoping these babies go all the way.

Hope everyone has a fabulous weekend. Thanks for spending some time here this week.

XOXO

Miscarriage: When Do You Start Feeling Better?

After the miscarriage, I stopped working on the baby sweater I'd been knitting and made this beach-y cotton cowl for myself. Love how it turned out, and it actually stayed cool enough to wear it a few times. :)

As of this past week, a month has gone by since we lost our tiny unborn baby. I was just days from being out of the first trimester when we found out...just about "safe" and so excited to tell everyone.

And it's funny, and surprising to me, there's not really a lingering sadness. The first couple weeks after it happened were awful, but since then...I don't know...it's just kind of gotten lumped into the ongoing drama of us trying to have a baby, which hurts, but I've been living with that particular hurt for so long I barely even notice it anymore. It feels funny to say this, and maybe I'm wrong, but it (the miscarriage) doesn't stand out as a part of this process that will continue to be hard down the road. Honestly, the two chemical pregnancies I had last year hurt just as much...but with those, there was really very minimal support...everyone, including my husband, didn't understand at all why I was so upset. So I kind of had to hide and be alone with my feelings there, which was hard. With the miscarriage, everyone around me was as upset as I was and was very supportive...I think maybe that's been why it hasn't been that hard to move forward...I grieved heavily and everyone around me was loving and helpful, and now I'm ready to look forward and move onto the next thing.

The other thing I think is interesting here and plays a role is: for months with the pregnancy I felt just terrible, and incredibly restricted. I had morning sickness pretty bad 24/7, and not being able to exercise is a big lifestyle change for me that's hard to deal with. And of course I am so, so happy to go through that again to be pregnant and have a baby, I don't mind AT ALL, but to go through months of that and wind up with nothing? Awful. And then to suddenly feel great physically after months of barely being able to drag myself out of bed, AND be allowed to go to yoga and on hard hikes and to take a hot bath and have a glass of wine if I want, etc...it's kind of been a relief to go back to my normal state for a short time (although please God let me be pregnant again in July and be totally restricted and sick all over again.)

Anyway, I just wanted to write little post about my experience with the miscarriage...that, while beyond awful at the time and for a few weeks after, I don't think it's going to be a long and lingering sadness. I'm sure having a plan to move forward and having embryos in the freezer helps with that too.

Others out there who have had this happen: did you feel the same way? Or was it harder for longer? I'm kind of surprised that it hasn't been worse for me.

Hope everyone is having a super-fun weekend!

XO

Genetic Testing Results: Turner Syndrome

Hey Everyone,

We got the results of our genetic testing from the miscarriage back last night. There was an abnormality with our baby, which was a girl. One of the X chromosomes was missing. This is apparently a common reason behind miscarriages, and is known as Turner syndrome.

I hate, hate, hate that we had to lose this baby, but I'm comforted by these results. There's a clear reason. It wasn't something I did and might do again without realizing it. And my (irrational, I know) fear that we killed a perfectly healthy baby by mistake can be put to rest. Also, Turner syndrome is not due to the age of the mother or father, and there's no reason to think it'll happen again...in other words, there's no reason to think the embryos we have in the freezer are compromised.

I complained a week or so ago about the genetic testing being done, but I totally take that back...having these results has given me a lot of peace of mind and hope for our next try. Also glad I now don't have to go through a bunch of new tests to see if something's wrong with me or my husband. Feeling good about moving forward. :)

XO

Regroup With My RE: What Happened With the Miscarriage?

So I had a long phone conversation with my RE today--the first one I've had--about what happened with the miscarriage (which you can read about {here} and {here}). 

First off, I am so, so happy to report that it looks like we will be getting some help from our insurance in terms of the tests etc. from this point forward. Apparently I have moved from an "infertility" diagnosis to a "recurrent pregnancy loss" diagnosis, and insurance generally covers the latter. It's silly, but somehow the fact that my insurance is willing to pay for some of this (hopefully) makes me feel less invisible and less alone. I'm so used to paying out-of-pocket for 100% of everything...I don't know...it just feels like now somebody cares about what is happening to me vs saying "this isn't a medical issue, deal with it yourself."

It seems like the big question my RE is asking is: Was it my body that caused this, or a genetic abnormality in the baby? The genetics aren't back yet (although I'm understanding more why it's good to have them...and the fact I don't have to pay for them [probably] makes me feel better about the fact they were done). My RE said if there IS an abnormality on the test, we don't need to do anything else except try again. (He also said the timing of my miscarriage [he called it "late"] is unusual if it's due to a genetic abnormality). If there is NOT an abnormality on the test, it could mean 1) there actually was one and the test couldn't pick it up (because the baby had been dead in my body for weeks), OR, 2) that it's me. In which case he wants to do a bunch of tests to rule out autoimmune/blood clotting issues (that apparently can be managed with medication if I have them). He also wants to do a genetic test on my husband that I guess they did for me at some point but not for him.

Anyway, all this just gets more and more complicated. Since the phone call I've kind of lost the zen I've had for the past week or so where I've just been focusing on nutrition and visualization and yoga etc...you know, stuff you can control. All this medical stuff has always felt pretty overwhelming to me...don't know how to relax more about it....need to figure out a way. 

I guess we'll just be taking this next part step by step. Grateful there are still options and that my doctor's trying to get to the bottom of all this...

What If They Were Wrong?

I put away the baby sweater I was working on and started knitting this happy rainbow-y cotton cowl instead. Although it’s probably going to be too warm to wear it by the time I finish. Another little story about people being nice…my next door neighbor and I are in the same Saturday knitting group, and my colored thread was getting all tangled…she put aside what she was doing to help me untangle it and wrap it around cup warmers. Such a little gesture but so sweet and so nice.

All kinds of crazy thoughts going on in my mind this week (reference Tuesday’s post), and today it is: what if my new OB was wrong about the baby being dead? I mean, I know that’s not really a possibility, and it’s nothing personal with my new OB, because I trust her and don’t have any reason in the world to doubt her competence. It’s not about her, it’s just…what if there were a mistake? I felt this way when we went home after her telling us the baby had died. And I asked her right before they started drugging me for the D&C.

“There’s no way you could be wrong, is there?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “Unfortunately it’s a very clear diagnosis. There’s no question.”

So why do I have this nagging fear that with the D&C we killed a perfectly good baby by mistake? Is this the denial phase of grief or something? But it’s not really denial because I know the baby’s gone. Ugh, can all these crazy thoughts just go away? What’s going on with me?

Does Anything Good Come Out of All This?

My dad brought us daisies the day of the D&C...he brought me daisies when I was sick when I was little, so they have a really personal meaning. And my mom brought us this lovely little ceramic angel.

When my brother died, something a lot of people told me was you have to look for the good that came out of the situation. Like they would say, "If your brother hadn't died, you never would have met your husband," (which is a story for another post). I personally believe I would have met my husband anyway, but that's beside the point. Or they would say: "Think of how this has made you a stronger and more compassionate person." Well, I'm sorry, but nothing you gain is worth a person you love so much being killed at age 27. Nothing. Nothing made me madder than that comment.

And although I haven't heard that yet with the death of our unborn baby, I've been thinking about it a lot, for some reason. And while I'm still going to maintain that no good comes out of this situation, if I try to understand what the people who say this mean, I think it would be something like this:

People can be so kind, and you really don't always get to see that in day-to-day life. But you do see it when something bad happens. Like with my parents bringing us gifts last week and saying, "Let us know what you need, we're here for you." My friends listening to me cry and calling and texting to check up on me. My work and my husband's school making allowances for us. The kindness of the doctors and nurses the day we had the D&C. The love and support from everyone in blog-land. And back with what happened to my brother, all the people who helped the best they knew how--his best friends who moved in with me so I wouldn't have to live those first few months alone (my brother and I had lived together). My husband who I'd just met making sure I got the help that I needed. The 17-year-old who lived with me over the next year (another story for another blog post) helping me heal in his kind and gentle way. Etc.

Bad things remind me of the good in the world. Is it worth what you have to lose to find this out? No. But it is a nice thing to know.

PS. My brother seems to be sneaking into a lot of my posts lately. The anniversary of his death is next week, and right now he's pretty constantly on my mind...

"It Could Be Worse"

Got outside to work in our yard this weekend. Flowers blooming like crazy. It's good to get out...I've been so cooped up all winter. My mom was over the other day and said, "Wow, are you ever pale." Good to be out in the sunshine again.

My husband to me over the weekend: "How are you doing?" (A question we've been asking each other multiple times a day since we found out our baby had died.)

Me: "OK. You?"

Him: "OK." Pause. "It could be worse, you know."

Me: "What do you mean?"

Him: "If the scale of bad is 1 to 100, with 100 being the worst, I figure this is about an 80."

Me: "Yeah, it feels about like an 80 to me too." Pause. "What would be 100? You dying? Me dying?"

Him: "Anyone we love dying."

Still feeling pretty raw a week after everything went down. Dealing with a lot of money stuff today as bills for the pregnancy have started coming in (I have a high-deductable health insurance plan so we're paying the first few thousand out-of-pocket), and we've talked with the clinic about the price for an FET (expensive, not as much as IVF, but still a lot of money we weren't expecting to have to spend.)

Just trying to keep telling myself, "It could be worse."

Miscarriage: Packing Up the Reminders

Just feeling wretched today. It’s three days after the miscarriage (or at least when we found out about it), and I’m trying to pack up the reminders, to put away anything baby-related. The ultrasound pictures are the hardest. The “congratulations you’re pregnant” bag my OB’s office gave me a couple weeks ago with formula samples, bottles, diaper rash cream samples, etc. The knitting book of baby clothes and what’s left of the baby sweater I was working on until my dog chewed it up. My list of what not to eat while pregnant. The baby name book. The list of baby stuff we wanted to start getting after the first trimester was over (which would have been next week) that my husband and I made at lunch on Monday, right before we went to our OB appointment and found out that our baby had died. The yellow-and-white baby blanket we received in the mail from my mother-in-law the same day. This sucks.

I’m feeling really sad today about the fact I’m not going to be pregnant this summer. And that we’re not going to have a baby in October…I was really excited about the fact that the due date was right around my dad and grandfather’s birthdays (they have the same birthday) and my mom’s birthday and my brother who died. It would have been so cool for the baby to share a birthday with one of them. We’re looking at a winter pregnancy and a spring baby now, assuming (and this is a big assumption) that all goes perfectly next time around.

And speaking of next time around, the fact that it might not work is killing me. The fact that there’s going to be no joy or hopefulness or excitement in the first trimester is so sad to me, that it’s just going to be this terrifying black tunnel we hope and pray we make it out of. I can’t imagine not getting pregnant. I can’t imagine getting pregnant and then 3 months of being scared every single day that my baby may be dead. And if I’m as sick as I was this time on top of it, ugh, it just sounds like the worst torture imaginable. I know I’ll probably feel better about everything in a couple of months. I don’t have to do it today. It’s going to be manageable and obviously, I’ll go through any sort of trauma I have to to be able to have a baby.

Just feeling really beat down and exhausted by this whole process today. But like I was saying yesterday, I know I just need to get through today, try not to worry about the future.

I am just so, so, so sad, and there’s no way to make the sadness go away. I just have to sit with it and it’s so very painful. I’m tired of being in pain. When is it going to be my turn to have happy things happen? I don’t expect my whole life to be happy, but there’s got to be some good things that get mixed in with the bad, right? There have got to be more happy days for me somewhere down the road. Or is life just going to continue to be one horrible thing I have to deal with after the other? I need a break from the bad, please, God. I need something good to happen. It’s been 8 years of one trauma after another in my life, and 5 years of month after month after month of heartbreak with this infertility thing. I feel like I’m reaching the end of what I can possibly bear.

Dealing With Miscarriage, Day By Day

First of all, thank you SO MUCH to everyone who's been reading and--especially--commenting. Your presence and support really mean so, so much to me right now as I deal with the awfulness that is this week.

Today's been OK. Tried to work, which went OK, although it wasn't the most productive day on record. I work at home, so my day went something like this:

Answer emails and voicemails.

Go lie down in bed with my husband and cry.

Get everything in order for a regulatory review.

Talk with a friend who's called and cry.

Get on a conference call.

Go downstairs and sit with my husband and cry.

Etc.

My husband's in school, and they've been so nice to him...told him to take the rest of the week off. I'm probably not going to work much more this week either.

I slept through the night last night maybe for the first time since I started the IVF meds back in December. Yay for small victories! And physically I'm feeling better than I have in a long time. I've been trying not to complain, but really, I've spent a good part of the past two months in bed dealing with a LOT of nausea and exhaustion. Today I'm up and alert and don't feel sick (although there's some residual cramping from the D&C, but it's minor). I forgot what it's like to feel like this...didn't realize what a fog I was in with this pregnancy.

Overall, today's been better than yesterday, which is all you can really hope for. I'm so glad my husband and I have such light schedules between now and Monday, and can really spend some time together. I just want to be with him. Having him with me and knowing how much he loves me and how he wants to try for another baby as soon as we can (and we have frozen embryos from this last IVF--I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am for that) is what's saving me right now. That and not thinking beyond today. My mantra has been:

"Just get through today."

Thinking about what's next and pregnant again and maybe more losses and what if this never happens for us what are we going to do then is just way too overwhelming.

But I'm going to make it through today.