So Sunday's readings focused on Job and the homily was why bad things happen to good people. I think it was good for dh to be reminded.And thankfully, it looks like he is going to get the job he applied for (after 5 long years of looking). And it looks to be a perfect match. If he hadn't gotten the job, I think he may have entered a very dark depression. There is only so much one person can take. It was nice to have something to be happy about. After mass, I let Fr. Edward (who did the blessing of the throats on me) know what is happening with the baby.
My mom had told me my little sister (KT-now KS) is mad at God for me. So I decided to write her a message. I wrote: I wanted to let you know I am okay. Really. You saw me on the worst day. I am at peace. My faith carries me. We can talk about it sometime, but I am definitely not mad at God. Not at all. I know how much you hate this for me. I do. and I appreciate that. Sometime we will talk more about it. I don't want you to think it's an off limits topic or you can't talk to me about the losses for fear of making me sad. I don't mind talking about my babies-living or in heaven. The goal of life isn't happiness, though there is certainly joy along the way. The goal of life is heaven. As a mother, that's the ultimate goal for my children. And so, as with every person that loses someone, I selfishly want them here. But as you well know, selfishness has no place in parenting. We give everything of ourselves for our children. I gave this baby life. God allowed dh and I a hand in co-creating this child. This brought me immense joy! And my faith tells me my lap will be full in heaven with all 7 of my beautiful babies one day! That blows my mind. I don't know why 4, likely five, were taken so soon. But I do trust God. Unlike our earthly father, our Heavenly Father is perfect. And He only desires good for me. His goal is for me to get to heaven too, and I know my babies are one of those ways. I also know the good that has come from our journey. The closeness of dh and I, the strengthening of our faith, teaching our children about loss and life and the goal of life and leading them by example. But maybe most of all using our story to teach others about God's plan, about authentic healthcare and such. We have a mutual mission that has come out of our story. It has helped make us who we are. I know you can empathize (my sister lost her fiancee and only recently remarried her best friend). God hasn't finished our tory yet. He might have adoption and fostering in our future. I am excited to see what is next. Even death is not the end of our story. That is what our faith has taught us. I love you!" She replied saying if that was my worst, wow, and how my faith is inspiring and she is proud of me. How we will talk more when I am not in the middle of it and how she will pray for a miracle. I replied and let her know that I didn't actually mean when I saw her I was at my worst, but that day, and that I the worst was hyperventilating sobs on the floor of my closet after the level was returned at 9 and then I told her about the homily since she has brought up the why do bad things happen to good people question. It was good, and just another example of how God uses our story to open doors that wouldn't normally be there. My sister doesn't attend church and her baby is unbaptized. She wasn't married in a church. So I am grateful for the conversation.
Today started with another rosary (AJ keeps asking to go!) and Chaplet of Divine Mercy in the adoration chapel. Keep in mind him asking to go doesn't mean he prays it or is particularly reverent. But he is reasonably quiet. Even if the crucifix on the rosary becomes an airplane short term. :) I dropped him at preK and noticed the Feb bible quote was Phillipians 4:6-7 (Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with Thanksgiving make your request known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard you hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.) Next I went to mass. It was about healing again. You know where my faith fails? I fail to really beg God for a miracle and make that request known to Him. Even though I know He is capable. I just don't really doubt what He has chosen for the outcome I guess. And maybe it's too painful.
I had my scan at 11am. I was a little surprised she could still measure the heartbeat at such a low rate (50's). They may be able to see it later, but they won't be able to measure it any lower. Unless I hear differently I will keep the scan and appt with doctor on Monday. I didn't see him today. The ultrasound tech said "I hate you have to wait until there is no heartbeat to do anything." I replied "I don't mind, it leaves room for God." Not everyone in the office is as pro life as my doctor.
I have been thinking a lot about natural miscarriage versus D&C. I don't like to do a D&C with every one, but it has been about every other. It's the easy way out, and I don't mind. Somethings are okay to be easy. It means less uncertainty of when and where, and will I be at home with the kids and able to care for them. I means less fear, will I see the baby like last time? I was so unprepared and wasn't happy with the outcome. However, I don't recall the instructions. I may not be able to swim after. We have an overnight hotel booked with an indoor water park for March 1st with the boys. I want to be in the water with them. So that might factor in as well. I emailed dr. Toth. If he thinks infection will be worse as a result, I won't do it. I don't want to feed the monster.
I have thoughts about our next steps with kids too. I am mulling it all over. It may seem soon, but it helps. I will save those thoughts for another post when I can think more clearly.
Oh, and our DCF visit is tomorrow. She has to come to my home and watch me interact with my 4 yr old. Awkward. I decided we will play Bonopoly Jr (his pronunciation). It is adorable, highly entertaining, and something we do regularly. Maybe that will make it less awkward. :)
I am on the journey we are all called to-to accept God's will and perfect love. Whether I am white knuckling it with my eyes shut tight or standing up with my arms outstretched enjoying the ride, I try always to let God be the driver and not bail out the side when there are bumps (like IF!). On good days, I trust He won't run me into a tree. :)
Showing posts with label failing heartrate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label failing heartrate. Show all posts
2.05.2015
My Own Version of Hell-Updated Twice
Excuse the dramatics, it's been one hell of a 24 hrs.
A moment ago the local ob/gyn's nurse called with my progesterone level. (Recall I have no PPVI levels this entire pregnancy because no lab would ship. However, I found a lab that will ship recently and will do a draw tomorrow). Normally non-Hilgers labs are worthless because the range of normal is incredibly wide due to lab variability. Unfortunately my lab was so incredibly shitty, it even picked up on their radar as very low. I was a 9. I was on the max of progesterone in oil shots on top of HCG injections. Nine. I called PPVI almost hyperventilating I was so upset (so yes, my peace just flew out the window at my first number. I am so weak!). I wanted to know if they would say the number was worthless. They didn't. Stephanie got on and said how sorry she was. She may have said this isn't for sure. That nine was maybe more like a ten or eleven and that babies can survive. I don't know. My head was spinning. What she wasn't saying was the number was totally worthless. So I sobbed harder. My doctor didn't, to my disappointment, move up my Mon scan. I think they thought they were being humane and letting it play out longer to avoid limbo land after a scan. But guess what? I live in limbo land. so the absolute worst case scenario is the scan is inconclusive, and I have to...you guessed it wait until Monday. Like I am already doing. I called the nurse back and left a message asking her to call in a scan to the place across the street that does them all day long-day and night. I have been there before, even though they prefer their office (their lady only works Mon and Wed). So there is that. But that, friends is just one of two major stressors today. Update-the nurse said I can get scanned today after talking to the doctor so I will go in and let you know when I hear anything. Update: I was scanned and the baby's heartbeat was 79. The growth was a six days behind. This is the beginning of the end.
(for anyone who might doubt I look like I am showing. This is what being a narrow size 4 with 6 pregnancies under your belt looks like with number 7. The body just knows what to do I guess!)
Last week for the first time ever, I left my 4 yr old in a car with a window cracked and locked in front of our church school, across the street from my church and preschool. Not a main road. Not an obscure road. A road in the middle of my people. For two minutes. I literally mean 120 seconds or less. I called ahead for my 6 yr old to be pulled for a doc appt. They usually have him in the office, but he wasn't quite there. But close. He clearly had coat and bag together and just had to be walked two doors down. As I walked out, a women held the door for me and it was clear she was coming in for me. She was a DCF worker (Dept of Children and Families). I got a verbal warning. That was Thursday. My brother in law works in foster care, so I asked him if I should be concerned (other than the fact that my husband may kill me. He is 100 times more safety concerned than I am, and to say I am lax would be laughable. My 4 and 6 yr old have never been outside alone (front or back). They have never not held a hand for two seconds or rode without carseats. We don't take risks. Except me, this day, this way. For the first time. And even then I had a twinge of "should I have done that?" that I ignored because I am constantly babying AJ because he is my youngest. Please-keep in mind. I have my PhD in education. I am a part time worker and a full time mom. I am room mother, volunteer, party planner, up at the schools all the time, everyone knows me. To make matters more laughable, as I was getting Charlie the next day and a friend (who is very very conscientious) asks if AJ is in the car. No, I said, I never leave him in the car for school pickup. He was at preK. Oh, she said, I leave Conner all the time. He never wants to come in. So I say, funny story, and go on to mortify the hell out of her.
Which takes us to last night when my dh brings a pamphlet off the front porch which is titled "why you are being investigated." It has a social workers card on the back that says "call me." How he didn't look further, I don't know. But I hid it (he has a huge job interview Sat am he is flying out for-5 people for 4 hrs-and he doesn't need the stress) and texted my brother in law that said, " I am sorry. Just do whatever they ask and don't act like you don't need what they offer." Humble. Very humbling.
I tell a friend and she had been just that moment prior to our call meditating on Exodus14:14 which basically says God will fight for me and I am to stay still. Very appropriate. So I kept it all to myself, knowing I would call the social worker back Fri so that dh would be at work and he wouldn't be able to talk to her until he returned.
So that brings us to today. So I drop Charlie off, take AJ to a rosary and divine mercy chaplet in the adoration chapel and head to bible study. Then I assist in the atrium for CGS like I do every Thursday. Totally sounds like someone that beats her kids, right? Well, she called while I was out and then she called my husband when she didn't reach me. I didn't know this until I called her back. She told me that it was submitted and that she visited Charlie at school Tues and AJ Wed. What the what? And neither the school or my kids said a word?! I answered her questions satisfactory and my kids answer matched, and she said she would talk to dh and then close the case stating the claims were unsubstantiated. Good! I text dh and said not to call her, I had it covered and hoped it would suffice.
Then I got the progesterone result and called PPVI. Then he called and I pulled it together, miraculously, but he still wanted to know why she called and at least at that point I could say it was going to be okay. He was not happy. And I didn't want to add to his stress! But I lost it and he was clear there was more than that, so he got the whole kitten caboodle right before he went into the rest of his long day during his busiest time. Where he is going to come home and prep and then do it all again tomorrow only to fly out.
So then I called the preK and explained because only God knows what they were thinking (they said that it was a mistake!) and now I get to do the same at the Elementary. I will not be embarrassed of this, but rather use it as a teaching moment for others. So that is how my day has gone so far. Someone is going to have to commit me because I am not that strong. I asked God to make me a saint. I don't know what the heck I was thinking with that one!
Friday update: Today was a full non-working day. I went to rosary/divine mercy chaplet at adoration, then mass. Then I went into Elementary school and explained the situation with DCF to the counselor who will share it with others at my request. I went ahead and got the blood draw for progesterone and the new lab mailed it to PPVI. I got the shots from the doctor since dh was at work at that point (and leaving on a plane for a big interview after work. Please please please pray he gets this job!). I went to lunch with my mom, rested 30 min and took a shower. I got ready and even put lipstick on. I felt better. I got my kids and held them close! We snuggled with take out and watched a movie. I devoured a pounder of almond M&M's. It's 8:30pm Fri and I am in my pjs about to watch Grey's Anatomy (don't judge, I never stopped watching...). And you know what? I am okay? I only cried a few times today talking to people. They were eyes well up with tears not gut wrenching hyperventilating sobs like yesterday. My mom told me at lunch that my sister is upset for me. Defensive of me and mad at God for allowing this when she prayed so hard. And I defended God to my mom. I am not mad at Him. I trust Him. I asked for His will this whole time. And I stand by that. I am okay because he allows me to be okay through His grace. Thank you for your prayers, everyone!
A moment ago the local ob/gyn's nurse called with my progesterone level. (Recall I have no PPVI levels this entire pregnancy because no lab would ship. However, I found a lab that will ship recently and will do a draw tomorrow). Normally non-Hilgers labs are worthless because the range of normal is incredibly wide due to lab variability. Unfortunately my lab was so incredibly shitty, it even picked up on their radar as very low. I was a 9. I was on the max of progesterone in oil shots on top of HCG injections. Nine. I called PPVI almost hyperventilating I was so upset (so yes, my peace just flew out the window at my first number. I am so weak!). I wanted to know if they would say the number was worthless. They didn't. Stephanie got on and said how sorry she was. She may have said this isn't for sure. That nine was maybe more like a ten or eleven and that babies can survive. I don't know. My head was spinning. What she wasn't saying was the number was totally worthless. So I sobbed harder. My doctor didn't, to my disappointment, move up my Mon scan. I think they thought they were being humane and letting it play out longer to avoid limbo land after a scan. But guess what? I live in limbo land. so the absolute worst case scenario is the scan is inconclusive, and I have to...you guessed it wait until Monday. Like I am already doing. I called the nurse back and left a message asking her to call in a scan to the place across the street that does them all day long-day and night. I have been there before, even though they prefer their office (their lady only works Mon and Wed). So there is that. But that, friends is just one of two major stressors today. Update-the nurse said I can get scanned today after talking to the doctor so I will go in and let you know when I hear anything. Update: I was scanned and the baby's heartbeat was 79. The growth was a six days behind. This is the beginning of the end.
(for anyone who might doubt I look like I am showing. This is what being a narrow size 4 with 6 pregnancies under your belt looks like with number 7. The body just knows what to do I guess!)
Last week for the first time ever, I left my 4 yr old in a car with a window cracked and locked in front of our church school, across the street from my church and preschool. Not a main road. Not an obscure road. A road in the middle of my people. For two minutes. I literally mean 120 seconds or less. I called ahead for my 6 yr old to be pulled for a doc appt. They usually have him in the office, but he wasn't quite there. But close. He clearly had coat and bag together and just had to be walked two doors down. As I walked out, a women held the door for me and it was clear she was coming in for me. She was a DCF worker (Dept of Children and Families). I got a verbal warning. That was Thursday. My brother in law works in foster care, so I asked him if I should be concerned (other than the fact that my husband may kill me. He is 100 times more safety concerned than I am, and to say I am lax would be laughable. My 4 and 6 yr old have never been outside alone (front or back). They have never not held a hand for two seconds or rode without carseats. We don't take risks. Except me, this day, this way. For the first time. And even then I had a twinge of "should I have done that?" that I ignored because I am constantly babying AJ because he is my youngest. Please-keep in mind. I have my PhD in education. I am a part time worker and a full time mom. I am room mother, volunteer, party planner, up at the schools all the time, everyone knows me. To make matters more laughable, as I was getting Charlie the next day and a friend (who is very very conscientious) asks if AJ is in the car. No, I said, I never leave him in the car for school pickup. He was at preK. Oh, she said, I leave Conner all the time. He never wants to come in. So I say, funny story, and go on to mortify the hell out of her.
Which takes us to last night when my dh brings a pamphlet off the front porch which is titled "why you are being investigated." It has a social workers card on the back that says "call me." How he didn't look further, I don't know. But I hid it (he has a huge job interview Sat am he is flying out for-5 people for 4 hrs-and he doesn't need the stress) and texted my brother in law that said, " I am sorry. Just do whatever they ask and don't act like you don't need what they offer." Humble. Very humbling.
I tell a friend and she had been just that moment prior to our call meditating on Exodus14:14 which basically says God will fight for me and I am to stay still. Very appropriate. So I kept it all to myself, knowing I would call the social worker back Fri so that dh would be at work and he wouldn't be able to talk to her until he returned.
So that brings us to today. So I drop Charlie off, take AJ to a rosary and divine mercy chaplet in the adoration chapel and head to bible study. Then I assist in the atrium for CGS like I do every Thursday. Totally sounds like someone that beats her kids, right? Well, she called while I was out and then she called my husband when she didn't reach me. I didn't know this until I called her back. She told me that it was submitted and that she visited Charlie at school Tues and AJ Wed. What the what? And neither the school or my kids said a word?! I answered her questions satisfactory and my kids answer matched, and she said she would talk to dh and then close the case stating the claims were unsubstantiated. Good! I text dh and said not to call her, I had it covered and hoped it would suffice.
Then I got the progesterone result and called PPVI. Then he called and I pulled it together, miraculously, but he still wanted to know why she called and at least at that point I could say it was going to be okay. He was not happy. And I didn't want to add to his stress! But I lost it and he was clear there was more than that, so he got the whole kitten caboodle right before he went into the rest of his long day during his busiest time. Where he is going to come home and prep and then do it all again tomorrow only to fly out.
So then I called the preK and explained because only God knows what they were thinking (they said that it was a mistake!) and now I get to do the same at the Elementary. I will not be embarrassed of this, but rather use it as a teaching moment for others. So that is how my day has gone so far. Someone is going to have to commit me because I am not that strong. I asked God to make me a saint. I don't know what the heck I was thinking with that one!
11.11.2009
Med log 8.28.08-9.24.08
9.3.08, 36 w 1 day, Measured 36 1/2 weeks! Right on schedule!
9.4.09, 36 w 2 days, Prog was about 129 so low zone 2, still went off progesterone at 37 weeks as was the original plan. Okay if baby comes early now...
9.10.08, 37 weeks 1 day, Iron came back at 33%, still relatively borderline; they accidently goofed my group b and refrigerated it so they redid it that week and it came back negative; I've gained 38 lbs! They guessed the baby to be 6 lbs 12 oz, the heartrate was high due to him/her being very active, 160s, 170s, First check to see if dilated-a 2! 60% effaced, stateion was -3 or -2, definitely noticing the drop. I measured 37 1/2 weeks.
9.17.08, 38 weeks 1 day, Heartrate was 172, -2 station, 75% effaced, measured 38 weeks, still dilated to 2.
9.24.08, 39 weeks 1 day, 75% effaced, still 2 cm, measured 39 weeks, heartrate 132, lower heartbeat could be a sign of coming soon, same wtih loose bowels. I got anxious and let ob/gyn "stretch" my cervix.
12.18.2008
Michael
Little did I know just how long (and painful) that road ahead would really be! Hcg can be taken every 48 hrs and it typically doubles in 48-72 hours. In those early days, I clung to hcg levels, the only way I would know if things were going right. My doctor (local ob/gyn) was sweet to get hcgs taken regularly and run them stat so I could get results back the same day. Tuesday, two days after we found out we were pregnant, I got back a level of 1544-tripled! We rested comfortably for the next 48 hr window. Then 3438 and again we were excited. I was able to get an ultrasound that day, unusually early, mostly because my doctor was so sweet. It showed a very small sac in the right place. At this point I was considered 5 weeks, 1 day even though I just found out the previous Sunday and it was Thursday!
I had switched from my hcg shots to progesterone shots. Poor DH thought he might get a break from needles, but no such luck. Before they were four times a month all in one week. Now they were twice a week (so spread out and twice as many) and the progesterone had to be given slowly because it was in sesame oil and my muscle needed to absorb the liquid. So a 2 cc shot should take over 5 minutes because the plunger had to be pushed down slowly. I got one the day after we found out we were pregnant- I was not going to lose this baby to something as elementary as low progesterone! We got the levels back from my P+7 draw and saw they were good levels and so we cut back the shot in half. I would continue to get blood draws, now every two weeks instead of once a month, and that would tell us how to adjust my progesterone shots. Dr. Hilger’s in Omaha monitored this and local ob/gyn monitored the hcg and did ultrasounds. I was proud of my team working together. I even had a primary care doctor in the loop that was local and trained under Dr. Hilger’s in case I needed him for anything.
The following Monday my hcg was drawn again. It was 5271. I was devastated. It was supposed to double in 48-72 hours. It has been four days and it didn’t double once. I was told not to worry, it slowed down as it got bigger (usually more in the 20k, not 5k). I was told as long as it increased, it was okay it didn’t double in time. So we were on pins and needles for 48 more hours until another draw came back. 5184 was the fateful number-it had done what the nurse said wasn’t okay-it dropped! But I was told then that it could drop a bit as the baby grows, but I should come in for an immediate sonogram. It was a different doctor (mine was out of town) and Dr. Su said that it was a perfectly healthy very early pregnancy. She said that possibly my dates were wrong and that the sac was growing. There was no yolk sac visible yet. At that time I was 6 weeks.
I didn’t take much comfort, but I tried to be calm. I knew my dates weren’t wrong, that was the one thing I was completely sure of thanks to CrMS. On Monday my progesterone was drawn and it was a terrible 13.2. But because of the holidays (around Thanksgiving) I wouldn’t get this news for another week. So on Thursday I went in for another sonogram and found that the sac had grown and there was a yolk sac for the first time. My doctor worried that there wasn’t a heart beat. He took an hcg-said it should be 60-80k by now, but it was a sad 7600. I didn’t get this until the following day due to bad weather. The doctor called it a blighted ovum, which I had recently learned from a friend’s experience that it is when the sac grows long after the baby stops developing. It can keep growing, giving the impression you are still pregnant, when you actually lost the baby awhile ago. My poor friend didn’t find out until she was 13 weeks because her doctor didn’t perform ultrasounds early. Again, I was grateful for my doctor and happy to know sooner rather than later if that was our fate. We were told they would do another ultrasound on Monday, just in case, but they would probably schedule me for a D&C to remove the sac, etc. I went straight home to bed, glad class was cancelled. As you can imagine, school was not the top priority anymore and I had trouble thinking about anything other than the next blood draw or ultrasound. Not to mention all the time I spend actually at the doctor’s office. That night DH came home early. We ordered pizza and watched movies and tv all night from our bed. We mourned the loss of our baby that wasn’t meant to be. But more surprises awaited us…
Of course, with my regular visits now everyone in the doctor’s office knew who I was. And everyone also knew I was losing the baby. I felt like I was in an exhibit and the whole world was looking at me, pitying me, and I felt sorry for myself. The ultrasound revealed the sac had grown, the yolk sac had grown, and we saw a 3.9mm baby (measuring head to rump). Best of all a heartbeat was visible-better late than never right?- and I felt there was a new lease on life! We had ourselves a miracle. The ultrasound tech literally ran out of the room to get the doctor and he came in. He checked my heartbeat to make sure there wasn’t a vein that was pulsing of mine getting accidentally picked up on, but he determined the rate of the heartbeat wasn’t the same as my own. My baby, there on the screen, with it’s very own heartbeat. I cried tears of joy and shared the news with DH. The doctor assumed my hcg shots had played with the numbers and that they were falsely elevated. My dates were wrong, they thought, and this baby was just fine. I ignored my thoughts about the date being correct, and how Dr. Hilger’s had already accounted for the hcg shots that I had stopped taking a full week before the first hcg. I wanted only to dwell in good thoughts. My baby was basically brought back from the dead in my eyes.
I believe that was the time I began calling the baby Michael with DH’s blessing. Michael is my dad’s middle name. But it was also the name of the archangel that is known for being a warrior. My baby was a fighter and that was great to know! I began talking to him in the shower, during the day, even one day in the mall parking lot as I sat in my car. I remember some high school kids came out and noticed me and joked that I was smoking pot via guesture. I didn’t care. I had a baby in my tummy and that baby had a heartbeat. I knew the risk of miscarriage went down to 5% with a heartbeat, but it was with a typical heartbeat. That first day we could see it but not measure it. So I remained on pins and needles waiting to hear an actual number and know we were out of the woods.
One thing I did around this time was let the priest know our situation. He was wonderful and gave me a blessing. He asked me if I knew who the patron saints of pregnant people were and I did not. We looked them up and found three, but only one women-St. Margaret of Antioch. My mother’s name! I loved that and was even more overjoyed that her feast day was my due date, July 20th, 2007. (Before even our first anniversary, hard to imagine since it felt like had been married forever-in a good way of course!)
Wednesday I returned to the doctor for another ultrasound. This one was with another lady and the machine was more up to date (I hated all these variable, I wanted to be able to compare across). The heartbeat measured 93. It was supposed to be over 100, so we couldn’t say that it was typical yet, but we were happy it was so close and continued our waiting game to measure it again.
That actually happened much sooner than we expected. I had some spotting that day and was rushed back to get another ultrasound-yes, two in one day! It was with the older machine, which was less sensitive, but they actually got a better reading-104! They said the baby was fine and that the blood was either from sex or the first ultrasound (all ultrasounds are vaginal this early).
I wasn’t able to get another ultrasound until Thursday, a week and one day later. I think they were starting to see me as in the clear. Unfortunately this one showed a devastating heart beat of 73. At this point it should have been 150-170s. I was told that this baby was not going to make it for sure (a second time) and I was sure we had run out of miracles. The worst part was that the baby was alive, yet dying. Still in me, yet there was nothing anyone could do. I confirmed this with my pro-life RE, Dr. Hilgers, in Omaha. If there was anything that could be done, he would have said. Nothing we could do but wait. Waiting was becoming something we hated.
I went back Monday and found out that the sac had grown a lot and the baby now measured 5.6mm, probably due to the fact we were still taking progesterone shots trying to give the baby every chance to fight. The heartbeat had only gone down to 67 and I resigned myself that this was going to be a slow and painful process. On Wednesday, I remember talking to Michael in the shower and telling him that I knew he was a fighter. But I also knew that it was time to let go, so if he was fighting for me alone, he could stop. I knew he was going to be with God and I had let go of hope that I would hold him in my arms someday. I sobbed.
That Thursday, Dec. 21st, I was 10 weeks and 1 day. I was shocked to hear the heartbeat was no more because I expected, at this point, for the pain to continue to be drug out, despite my heart to heart with the baby. But Michael had taken my words to heart. The Lord knew I couldn’t take a slower death. I was a little shaken, taken off guard at the quick drop and my prayer being answered. DH was with me, thank goodness. My ob/gyn's coworker was the one who was there; she gave us our options and we decided not to do a D&C the next day because we wouldn‘t be able to travel to DH's home town 3 hrs away for Christmas. But I did want to do one, I was so scared to see anything I would recognize come out with the bleeding-I had heard of people seeing babies, or sacs or placentas. I didn’t feel strong enough, so for me the D&C felt like it was the right thing. We schedule it for the 29th and tried to have a good Christmas and stay distracted. It was hard to believe we had just been to his hometown for Thanksgiving telling his family about the pregnancy. Now they mourned with us. I began bleeding on Christmas Eve. I found the blood very disturbing. This wasn’t my cycle. It was my baby’s blood. I had a reminder every time I went to the bathroom. I prayed for God’s strength.
The bleeding got heavier and darker and full of clots. I saw the black blood as full of sorrow. On Thursday, the day before my D&C, I was bleeding extremely heavy. I was deathly afraid I was miscarrying that day and that I would not make it to surgery the next day. I was afraid of what I would see. I was told if it was more than a pad an hour then I would have to go to the ER for hemorrhaging. I didn’t know how much I was bleeding because so much of it was pouring out when I sat on the toilet. I called the Dr. office several times for reassurance and they were great. They told me I didn’t need to come in. Laying on the bathroom floor, bleeding and crying alone, was the lowest point of that pregnancy and I sobbed my heart out.
Thank God my surgery was the next day. I never saw anything recognizable. The surgery was very easy, no pain, no nausea, very little blood and no cramping. I felt the D&C decision was the right one for me.
I had switched from my hcg shots to progesterone shots. Poor DH thought he might get a break from needles, but no such luck. Before they were four times a month all in one week. Now they were twice a week (so spread out and twice as many) and the progesterone had to be given slowly because it was in sesame oil and my muscle needed to absorb the liquid. So a 2 cc shot should take over 5 minutes because the plunger had to be pushed down slowly. I got one the day after we found out we were pregnant- I was not going to lose this baby to something as elementary as low progesterone! We got the levels back from my P+7 draw and saw they were good levels and so we cut back the shot in half. I would continue to get blood draws, now every two weeks instead of once a month, and that would tell us how to adjust my progesterone shots. Dr. Hilger’s in Omaha monitored this and local ob/gyn monitored the hcg and did ultrasounds. I was proud of my team working together. I even had a primary care doctor in the loop that was local and trained under Dr. Hilger’s in case I needed him for anything.
The following Monday my hcg was drawn again. It was 5271. I was devastated. It was supposed to double in 48-72 hours. It has been four days and it didn’t double once. I was told not to worry, it slowed down as it got bigger (usually more in the 20k, not 5k). I was told as long as it increased, it was okay it didn’t double in time. So we were on pins and needles for 48 more hours until another draw came back. 5184 was the fateful number-it had done what the nurse said wasn’t okay-it dropped! But I was told then that it could drop a bit as the baby grows, but I should come in for an immediate sonogram. It was a different doctor (mine was out of town) and Dr. Su said that it was a perfectly healthy very early pregnancy. She said that possibly my dates were wrong and that the sac was growing. There was no yolk sac visible yet. At that time I was 6 weeks.
I didn’t take much comfort, but I tried to be calm. I knew my dates weren’t wrong, that was the one thing I was completely sure of thanks to CrMS. On Monday my progesterone was drawn and it was a terrible 13.2. But because of the holidays (around Thanksgiving) I wouldn’t get this news for another week. So on Thursday I went in for another sonogram and found that the sac had grown and there was a yolk sac for the first time. My doctor worried that there wasn’t a heart beat. He took an hcg-said it should be 60-80k by now, but it was a sad 7600. I didn’t get this until the following day due to bad weather. The doctor called it a blighted ovum, which I had recently learned from a friend’s experience that it is when the sac grows long after the baby stops developing. It can keep growing, giving the impression you are still pregnant, when you actually lost the baby awhile ago. My poor friend didn’t find out until she was 13 weeks because her doctor didn’t perform ultrasounds early. Again, I was grateful for my doctor and happy to know sooner rather than later if that was our fate. We were told they would do another ultrasound on Monday, just in case, but they would probably schedule me for a D&C to remove the sac, etc. I went straight home to bed, glad class was cancelled. As you can imagine, school was not the top priority anymore and I had trouble thinking about anything other than the next blood draw or ultrasound. Not to mention all the time I spend actually at the doctor’s office. That night DH came home early. We ordered pizza and watched movies and tv all night from our bed. We mourned the loss of our baby that wasn’t meant to be. But more surprises awaited us…
Of course, with my regular visits now everyone in the doctor’s office knew who I was. And everyone also knew I was losing the baby. I felt like I was in an exhibit and the whole world was looking at me, pitying me, and I felt sorry for myself. The ultrasound revealed the sac had grown, the yolk sac had grown, and we saw a 3.9mm baby (measuring head to rump). Best of all a heartbeat was visible-better late than never right?- and I felt there was a new lease on life! We had ourselves a miracle. The ultrasound tech literally ran out of the room to get the doctor and he came in. He checked my heartbeat to make sure there wasn’t a vein that was pulsing of mine getting accidentally picked up on, but he determined the rate of the heartbeat wasn’t the same as my own. My baby, there on the screen, with it’s very own heartbeat. I cried tears of joy and shared the news with DH. The doctor assumed my hcg shots had played with the numbers and that they were falsely elevated. My dates were wrong, they thought, and this baby was just fine. I ignored my thoughts about the date being correct, and how Dr. Hilger’s had already accounted for the hcg shots that I had stopped taking a full week before the first hcg. I wanted only to dwell in good thoughts. My baby was basically brought back from the dead in my eyes.
I believe that was the time I began calling the baby Michael with DH’s blessing. Michael is my dad’s middle name. But it was also the name of the archangel that is known for being a warrior. My baby was a fighter and that was great to know! I began talking to him in the shower, during the day, even one day in the mall parking lot as I sat in my car. I remember some high school kids came out and noticed me and joked that I was smoking pot via guesture. I didn’t care. I had a baby in my tummy and that baby had a heartbeat. I knew the risk of miscarriage went down to 5% with a heartbeat, but it was with a typical heartbeat. That first day we could see it but not measure it. So I remained on pins and needles waiting to hear an actual number and know we were out of the woods.
One thing I did around this time was let the priest know our situation. He was wonderful and gave me a blessing. He asked me if I knew who the patron saints of pregnant people were and I did not. We looked them up and found three, but only one women-St. Margaret of Antioch. My mother’s name! I loved that and was even more overjoyed that her feast day was my due date, July 20th, 2007. (Before even our first anniversary, hard to imagine since it felt like had been married forever-in a good way of course!)
Wednesday I returned to the doctor for another ultrasound. This one was with another lady and the machine was more up to date (I hated all these variable, I wanted to be able to compare across). The heartbeat measured 93. It was supposed to be over 100, so we couldn’t say that it was typical yet, but we were happy it was so close and continued our waiting game to measure it again.
That actually happened much sooner than we expected. I had some spotting that day and was rushed back to get another ultrasound-yes, two in one day! It was with the older machine, which was less sensitive, but they actually got a better reading-104! They said the baby was fine and that the blood was either from sex or the first ultrasound (all ultrasounds are vaginal this early).
I wasn’t able to get another ultrasound until Thursday, a week and one day later. I think they were starting to see me as in the clear. Unfortunately this one showed a devastating heart beat of 73. At this point it should have been 150-170s. I was told that this baby was not going to make it for sure (a second time) and I was sure we had run out of miracles. The worst part was that the baby was alive, yet dying. Still in me, yet there was nothing anyone could do. I confirmed this with my pro-life RE, Dr. Hilgers, in Omaha. If there was anything that could be done, he would have said. Nothing we could do but wait. Waiting was becoming something we hated.
I went back Monday and found out that the sac had grown a lot and the baby now measured 5.6mm, probably due to the fact we were still taking progesterone shots trying to give the baby every chance to fight. The heartbeat had only gone down to 67 and I resigned myself that this was going to be a slow and painful process. On Wednesday, I remember talking to Michael in the shower and telling him that I knew he was a fighter. But I also knew that it was time to let go, so if he was fighting for me alone, he could stop. I knew he was going to be with God and I had let go of hope that I would hold him in my arms someday. I sobbed.
That Thursday, Dec. 21st, I was 10 weeks and 1 day. I was shocked to hear the heartbeat was no more because I expected, at this point, for the pain to continue to be drug out, despite my heart to heart with the baby. But Michael had taken my words to heart. The Lord knew I couldn’t take a slower death. I was a little shaken, taken off guard at the quick drop and my prayer being answered. DH was with me, thank goodness. My ob/gyn's coworker was the one who was there; she gave us our options and we decided not to do a D&C the next day because we wouldn‘t be able to travel to DH's home town 3 hrs away for Christmas. But I did want to do one, I was so scared to see anything I would recognize come out with the bleeding-I had heard of people seeing babies, or sacs or placentas. I didn’t feel strong enough, so for me the D&C felt like it was the right thing. We schedule it for the 29th and tried to have a good Christmas and stay distracted. It was hard to believe we had just been to his hometown for Thanksgiving telling his family about the pregnancy. Now they mourned with us. I began bleeding on Christmas Eve. I found the blood very disturbing. This wasn’t my cycle. It was my baby’s blood. I had a reminder every time I went to the bathroom. I prayed for God’s strength.
The bleeding got heavier and darker and full of clots. I saw the black blood as full of sorrow. On Thursday, the day before my D&C, I was bleeding extremely heavy. I was deathly afraid I was miscarrying that day and that I would not make it to surgery the next day. I was afraid of what I would see. I was told if it was more than a pad an hour then I would have to go to the ER for hemorrhaging. I didn’t know how much I was bleeding because so much of it was pouring out when I sat on the toilet. I called the Dr. office several times for reassurance and they were great. They told me I didn’t need to come in. Laying on the bathroom floor, bleeding and crying alone, was the lowest point of that pregnancy and I sobbed my heart out.
Thank God my surgery was the next day. I never saw anything recognizable. The surgery was very easy, no pain, no nausea, very little blood and no cramping. I felt the D&C decision was the right one for me.
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