For a long time it bothered me that this blog was not updated. I felt like not updating it looked like we had lost that miraculous 2017 pregnancy. But that was not the case. We have a beautiful 8 year old son who is perfect and thriving. It would take a lot to keep me from updating, but a lot came our way.
We told the boys before Easter. Every indication was that everything was fine. However, even if it wasn't, we would not be able to hide a loss. Nor would we want to. The boys were 6 and 8. They were there when we buried Gerard Nike. They knew the names of their sibling saints. I had a lot of fun creating an Easter themed treasure hunt for them. They were armed with baskets and followed clues to eggs with additional clues, that all led to the golden egg with a sonogram picture and the announcement (as well as ring pops and candy baby bottles). They were thrilled. They had prayed for this baby for so long.
On Easter April 16, 2017, I had fallen asleep early. We had celebrated at our home without extended family. We had invited my husband's brother, who politely declined. He was the only one who lived in town. He was a recovered addict, with a long history of being clean by this point. He was living with his girlfriend and had held a job for a good bit of time. What we didn't know was he had lost his job. He likely didn't want to come to Easter and share that, likely wanting to find another job. He was still sober, and such a gift to all those he lived with in the sober living Oxford house. Due to being out of work, unbeknownst to us, he had been selling plasma. And even on this Easter Sunday, the blood banks were open as the need never ceases. If he had come to Easter dinner, we likely would have shared our good pregnancy news.
When I woke up at almost 11, I knew something was wrong with my husband immediately. The bedroom light was on, he was sitting up in bed, he seemed in shock. I quickly shook myself awake and asked him to tell me. His brother, Casey, has been in a motorcycle accident on the way home from selling plasma. From video, it appears he hit some sort of sand and his front tire shook out of control. Perhaps from snow earlier in the season? Perhaps he wasn't as quick with the reflexes having donated blood? But he had hit the guard rail and flipped over the ramp's edge plummeting too far to imagine. No helmet could have saved him.
It happened around 4pm. First the girlfriend found out. Young and in shock, it didn't even occur to her that no one had called his mom. His mom made the other calls, including to my husband, after 10pm. At 40 years old, he had already lost a father and now a brother. And in the last year, his sister (who struggles with infertility as well), lost a daughter as a result of infection caused by amniocentisis. They buried her at 21 weeks. Because my husband was in town, it was up to him to claim the body. Purchase an outfit for him to be buried in. And attend to some other details. The next day was a haze. We had booked GWL indoor water park because the boys were off school. My husband didn't want to cancel or for the boys to know yet. He went between joining us in a daze to stepping away to handle details. The boys' laughter was balm to his soul on one of his hardest days.
We never imagined telling dh's family we were pregnant while in his hometown preparing for the funeral. But that's how it happened. Dh's sister was also pregnant, 5 months further along than I was. These two miracles were more bright spots in a dark time.
While things continued to go well and I had confidence our baby would arrive in the fall, we did have some scares. The antibiotics went well, and it turns out the Zith and steroid I had taken during Disney for walking pneumonia likely helped with our infection and inflammation in my tubes. Zith was what they were giving for infections now if Clindy wasn't an option. And so I continued it off and on, in addition to progesterone and HCG. At 12 weeks we allowed genetic testing, and this was the first baby we learned the gender. Despite my age, there was almost no risk for Down Syndrome.
Because we were crazy, and felt almost old hats at being pregnant, we decided to continue our plan of moving. After looking a long time, we decided to build exactly what we wanted and signed a contract in June. However, we were about to get another curve ball. At the end of June, everyone piled into the car to visit the high risk OB for my 20 week anatomy scan. On the counter where you check in was a paper-we are doing optional cervical length measuring. Let us know if you are interested, and we will do an internal scan as well. Immediately I dismissed it. I had everyone with me. Why send them out for an additional scan. Then I stopped-what was I thinking?! I want all the preventative we could do. So I signed the paper.
It turned out my cervix was measuring only 2.1cm. A normal cervix at 20 weeks should not have begun to shorten, so it should still be measuring 4 or 4.5 cm. What causes a cervix to be incompetent and shorten early? Infections, low progesterone, multiple pregnancies, multiple D&C's. I had all of the above, so why this decision to test up to me when my history was screaming risk factors, I will never know.
This was a Friday, and we were told to come back in on Tuesday to determine how quickly it was shortening. I was already on the maximum dose of progesterone, the first line of defense in this situation. A kind nurse thankfully warned me that that surgery to place a cerclage was likely in my future, and I appreciated the time to digest this information. I went home, did a little research, and found the surgery had an 80% success rate (the stitch sometimes doesn't hold, can't be placed, the surgery triggers labor, or causes or worsens an infection; sometimes the amniotic sac is ruptured).
I returned on Tuesday, 6/27/17, and this time measured 1.7cm, and I was told to go home and pack my bags. I was to check in to the hospital that afternoon, with surgery to place a cerclage stitch to occur at noon the following day. Even the nurse hadn't prepared me for this. The next morning I was already measuring 1.5cm, so it was good the doctor didn't waste any time or he may not have had enough room to place the stitch. I went under general anesthesia for concern my water would break if I moved with only a spinal in (my amniotic sac was found to be big and low). Following surgery, I had a ten day midline for more antibiotics in case infection was the cause or surgery stirred up anything. God's hands were all over this from catching the issue, the fact it was a holiday weekend, my husband was off work, my in laws were in town to stay with the kids, and I had recently met a friend in bible study who shared a story of her own cerclage placed with her last pregnancy by Dr. Hilgers himself.
The weeks to follow were more a mental challenge. The stitch was placed well, and I went home. Per this doctor, no change in behavior was needed. But Dr. Hilgers disagreed. He wanted me on strict laying down bedrest with only three hours up to include showers and eating. It was hard to reconcile these two very different opinions in my brain. To do bed rest, laying down, was not going to be easy with two active children, a house to pack up to show, as well as normal life and my part time work. It was summer, and the boys were home with me all day every day. To follow instructions was going to take every bit of our village. And the thoughts creeped in that this was necessary. Thankfully God sent an angel. A new friend had moved from Omaha and her kids were at the same Catholic school as mine. As soon as she got wind of what was going on, she came right over to share more details of how her Sam was the result of a pregnancy with cervical incompetence. Dr. H operated on her and she was on laying down bedrest. When she started to loosen up at the end of the pregnancy, the baby came. He was okay, but he showed her this was no joke. She helped me cast the doubt out that it was not necessary to inconvenience others. She helped me fight this battle in my head, that by laying down and being tended to, I was doing everything in my power to keep this baby in as long as possible. My village, among other things, provided 3-4 meals a week for 19 weeks until Zachary Bryce was induced. And then another 12 weeks as we adjusted to a family of 5 while our house was on the market. I could not have done it without them!
When I delivered Zachary, he was a big healthy 8lbs 8 oz. Had he stayed until 41 weeks like his brothers he would have been the biggest by far. However, as this healthy boy lay on my chest with his daddy doting on him, I saw fear in the nurses' faces. I watched silently and prayed, grateful Craig's eyes were locked on Zach. What I didn't know was that my placenta was being difficult, and after some tugging had come out of my body with my uterus, which was inverted. Only the doctor had seen this before-one time in med school. He acted quickly in putting my uterus back and thankfully it stayed put. There was no hemoraghing. Other than some jaundice (our first to have it, needing light therapy), and a very frustrating blue foot due to a security bracelet placed too tight and hidden under feetie pjs we supplied, we had a happy healthy baby boy. Zachary was named after John the Baptists father who laughed in disbelief at Elizabeth conceiving in her old age. Zachary means God has heard and answered our prayers. And indeed he did. Not our prayers, but the children's prayers as they cried out for another sibling. Zachary was complete with chubby cheeks as requested by Anthony.
While we all came out no worse for the wear, all of that sort of sealed the deal for us-to have trouble getting pregnant, staying pregnant, not delivering early and not hemoraghing during complications (inverted uterus was increased risk for future, and cerclage placement would be earlier, such as 12 weeks, accompanied by bedrest) in addition to my age (over 39) made it much easier to appreciate what we have and not think of what might...
I type this "last chapter" much delayed, at 47 years of age. Covid came and went. My fertility acted wonky. It was difficult charting with almost nil CM and confusion with SF, but we managed. My cycles went to quarterly light spotting for 3 days to nothing. And Aug 2023, at the young age of 45, I said goodbye to them completely. In April, I will move forward with the prolapse repairs, which will include a hysterectomy for easier access.
And now, I can finally say, this chapter of my life is complete. God wrote every bit of our story as soon as I handed over the pen, and I couldn't have imagined it any more perfectly.
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