Contractions, Contractions, go away!

   It was a crazy weekend! Thursday night I had contractions too strong and too regular to be Braxton Hicks. My husband wanted to know if he should take me to the hospital. I was indecisive and fearful that going to the hospital would be admitting something was wrong. It brought up so much anxiety after the experience with Lydia.
  The contractions stopped after midnight Thursday and I fell asleep. Friday I had a few more contractions, though not as regularly as the previous night. Since it was a Friday I thought it best to check in with my OB before the weekend. I called and left a message for her medical staff. My call was returned and I was told to come that afternoon for another non-stress test.
  In less than an hour I had five or six contractions (not good at 32 weeks, 3 days). My OB was out of town for a conference which sparked another panic in me.  (She was also not available initially when I was in the hospital with Lydia, coming later that day when available). Her nurse practitioner examined me, determining I was already dilated 2 cm. She spoke with my OBon the phone and sent me immediately to the hospital.
   I was quickly roomed and an IV was started. Then we had to wait. And wait. And wait for the on-call OB to visit and consult with my Dr. before beginning any treatment. I was lying in bed, still having contractions, panicking because no one could do anything until a doctor called the orders. Fortunately, they were keeping constant monitor of Baby Isaiah's heartbeat (and my contractions), so we knew he was doing alright. After much longer than expected, the on-call OB, who I really liked, came and gave me the protocol for treatment, directed by my Dr.
   An IV of magnesium sulfate was started and I was on that for 48 hours. It felt like fire was being inserted into my veins when the bolus dose started. The intensity abated, but I remained warm and felt yucky the whole time I received the mag. Also with magnesium you absolutely cannot leave the bed and it requires hourly checks, around the clock, by the nurse to monitor  lungs, temperature, reflexes, etc. My contractions stopped, then started again, eventually stopping entirely. I was also given two steroid injections to prepare baby's lungs for delivery in case we had to deliver early.
   I stayed relatively composed and not too anxious until after the crisis. It was one of those things where you can hold it together for so long while you address the problem and then you panic/become anxious/scared/tearful. Early Sunday morning I woke during yet another check from a nurse. She left and I was lying there awake, still on the magnesium. I could hear Isaiah's heartbeat. At my request I asked for the sound to be constantly loud enough for me to hear. It provided comfort. My husband and my families had gone home the previous night. He was sleeping soundly beside me. Then I started worrying. More than I had been up until that point.
   It was Sunday, the first of May. Just nine months previously, on Sunday, the first of August Lydia had been stillborn. I cried and prayed, missed my first baby while being thankful for my second. Then my mind starts to catastrophize and I wonder if we will loose Isaiah too. Here we are, same hospital, same day of the week, same date of the month with problems in pregnancy...it was an emotional morning.
   I was taken off the magnesium Sunday evening and did not start having contractions. Monday morning my OB examined me and discharged me from the hospital. We had been there since Friday, so it was very nice to be going home. I am on bed rest now and on meds that are used to treat high blood pressure. It is a smooth muscle relaxant --it relaxes the muscles in the uterus to keep them from contracting. It also lowers my already low blood pressure. Which is one of the reasons why I'm only allowed to shower every other day, sitting down, with assistance, among other activity restrictions.

I know so many have been praying for me and Isaiah. God is the giver of life and is the One to be thanked for my health, Isaiah's health, the contractions stopping, etc. I am thankful God has given us family who care so much, a good physician and nurses, the medical knowledge and discoveries we have to help with pregnancies and pre-term labor.

Here I am on bedrest. 33 weeks 2 days pregnant with our second. Praying he stays in there until at least 36 weeks. I know things can change at any minute, but I am resting easily now.

Growing Excitement and Belly

   For a couple weeks now I have been counting down the days (77), not weeks, until Isaiah's due date. I have begun writing the daily countdown on the dry erase board by our calendar. My excitement has been mounting and I feel as though I cannot wait.

29 weeks! (And suffering from seasonal allergies)

   I have also gone a little crazy with the house.  I decided to switch the nursery and office, then after asking my husband to move part of the furniture, I decided to switched them back again. Though I am still pondering that decision. I have requested the rearrangement of the living room and kitchen. I've given away, thrown away, and packed away. I've scrubbed windows, doors, air conditioning vents, baseboards and walls; rearranged cabinets, closets, and cubbies. I have a list two pages long with all the other tasks I wish to complete. Currently the house is in a greater state of disarray than it was when I started this reorganization rampage, but I have to make messes to get everything back in order. Or so I reassure my husband, as boxes line our hallway. All will be in its own place soon enough. Just have to get it right. And I hope I am not premature in some of this cleaning. I do not want to feel the need to do it again before baby.


   I plan on registering this week and plans for a baby shower are in the works. I finally feel I am to a point that I feel comfortable and good about having a shower. My excitement and joy is difficult to contain and I am looking forward to sharing it with others! 


   

Isaiah Update

   I had an OB appointment this afternoon. By due date I am 25 weeks, 1 day pregnant today. I have felt an increase of anxiety as we are nearing that 26 week mark that glares like a flashing warning light. My wonderful OB had to run across the parking lot (literally) to deliver a patient's baby at the hospital and I was offered to be seen by her nurse practitioner rather than waiting for her return. I have only been in the care of my dr. and since it had been 4 weeks since I had seen her, seeing someone else was not an option. I elected to wait and was very glad I did. It was well after 5, but Dr. D wanted to do a sonogram (unscheduled, I think this was the 5th sono this pregnancy). Her sonographer had gone, so she did the sono herself. It was great! Wish she could do them every time! : )
    He is a growing, active little boy with a very healthy heart and brain. His measurements have him at 26 weeks today. My due date remains unchanged, but being right here in the same gestational period I was at the end of July is a nerve racking and exciting. The weeks have passed so quickly and it feels wonderful that everything is going well. I'll be going to the Dr. weekly for the next several weeks. 


   Isaiah is SO ACTIVE! He kicks and moves and stretches all sorts of ways all the time. I compare it to Lydia's activity and wonder if something was wrong with her (no, nothing medically abnormal was found). She did not move as much as he does. I've pondered if this is because he is a boy or has a different temperament/activity level. I was very aware of her movements because she was my first and I'm very aware of his movements because I am constantly on guard (that and he makes his presence known without question). Dwelling on it can lead me down the road of self-blame and what-ifs if I am not careful. I reassure myself with the fact that I did feel her move and kick until the worst day of my life and if she did move less frequently overal how was I to know when I had nothing else to compare it to (also, every dr.'s appt and sono showed no problem)? Ultimately, all of our lives are in God's hands nothing happens without Him allowing it. 


   I cannot entertain the thought of losing another child. I feel hopeful and anticipate things to go well with Isaiah. I just believe they will. But if things do not go how I expect, I am so thankful to have him every day and night he is moving in my womb. What a blessing! Two sweet children. And I can say with certainty that God is with us and sustains us through any event that may occur. 
   

Six Month Anniversary/Twenty Week Celebration

   Today is a significant day for my husband and I. Today marks my 20th week of pregnancy and six months since Lydia's birth. The 20th week of pregnancy is important because it is the half-way point of pregnancy and it differentiates the loss of Isaiah** after this point as a stillbirth and not a miscarriage (medically defined). Tomorrow, weather permitting, I have my fifth sonogram. 
  And six months since Lydia's birth. Six months ago we were holding Lydia in our arms after 16+ hours of labor. Six months. It sounds like a long time, but six months isn't so very long. I have read that most people can only tolerate another's loss for about a month before wanting the grieving person to get back to normal. I've heard this thought reflected in senseless comments of others made towards me or my husband. I want to shake them and tell them to judge only after they've buried a child. The remarks never come from someone who has. Grief takes time. Most people seem to forget that we are still grieving her loss while celebrating the pregnancy of another child. 
   Six months. Six months of time in which we have endured Lydia's due date, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's. Painful days to say the least. Six months of grieving, learning to live without the daughter for whom we had prayed and loved. Times in which we have found comfort and support and times there have seemed to be none. 
   Reflecting on the past six months I can identify how my grief has changed. From the first weeks of not being able to sleep at night, waking up in the middle of the night, overcome and consumed with it all to a grief allowing more functioning in the world. Seeing babies in stores (particularly in church) causes pain, but it has been some time since I have felt the urge to scream and throw things in the store. A grief that is ever present, overwhelming at times, still bringing anger, questions, and sadness. 
   Six months ago I was holding her in my arms. That is the sole reason I resist this passage of time. It takes me further away from that bittersweet moment. Closing my eyes I am back in that hospital room. My husband, OB, and one very kind nurse were in the room. A final push, an exhale of relief, and Lydia was placed on my stomach. My first emotion was joy. My first thoughts of admiration, love, and amazement at this beautiful baby. I was struck by the perfection of her form. I felt such a possessiveness of her, my daughter; a protectiveness for no one to hurt her little body or dare make a comment. 
   Isn't she beautiful? I remember asking the nurse. She agreed. Lydia looked perfect. Such a perfectly formed, beautifully shaped body. Such a healthy weight and size for her gestation. No marks of damage, accident or illness. Then why wasn't she alive? The questions still haunts me with many times my only conclusions being something I did or didn't do. A failure on my part. 
   Finding joy in our daughter and experiencing the best of a closure possible given the circumstances. Six months ago I was able to hold my baby. Indescribable sorrow, profound loss, feelings that this was more than I could bear engulfed me. Yet those moments with her were ones I wish had been prolonged. Ones which I wish I could experience again. 
   An anticipatory joy for the future and a remembrance of the past today. I continue on this journey of grief while walking the path of another pregnancy. 


**After I posted this blog, my husband read it and stated it sound like losing Isaiah was expected or anticipated. That is not the case. I do not want to lose Isaiah nor is there any indication that may be a possibility. 

A Name

Last week I visited Lydia's grave. The first thought that struck me when I looked down at her gravestone was I don't want her name here. 


You may plan, hope, expect your child's name to be on the school honor role, a sport's trophy, a piano recital, a valedictorian plaque, a diploma. And there are places you do not hope to find your child's name. This is definitely one of those places: a gravestone. I know death is inevitable (unless Christ returns before He calls us home), however, you don't expect to be the one seeing (picking out and writing) your child's gravestone. You don't expect to sit beside the stone marking their grave and weep. That should be left to your child's children and grandchildren. 


These were some of my thoughts as I sat in the grass, staring at my daughter's name. The questions became prayers. Why, God? Why is her name here instead of anywhere else? 


Immediately, the words to the song, "Before the Throne of God Above" came to my mind: 


My name is graven on His hand, my name is written on His heart 


I think I had already been crying up to this point, but this definitely brought on the tears. Immediately curious as to the Biblical reference from which the lyrics had come, I searched for these words in the Bible. The first verses I found came from the book of Isaiah. 

"Sing for joy, O heavens, and exult, O earth;

break forth, O mountains, into singing!

For the Lord has comforted his people

and will have compassion on his afflicted

But Zion said, 'The Lord has forsaken me; 

my Lord has forgotten me.'

'Can a woman forget her nursing child, 

that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb?

Even these may forget, 

yet I will not forget you.

Behold I have engraved you on the palms of my hands'"

Isaiah 49:13-16

I found this Scripture comforting. And it's location in the Bible significant. We have chosen the name Isaiah for our son. I have long liked the name; Isaiah is my favorite book in the Old Testament (perhaps the entire Bible). The name Isaiah means, "Yahweh is Salvation". Such a wonderful truth. 

A name is important. It's meaning, how it is used, how it is spoken, where it is found. My Lydia's name may be on a gravestone, but most importantly her name is written in the book of life of the Lamb who was slain. Graven on His hand, written on His heart. 

Snips and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

And we have a baby boy!

(with 95% certainty, I should say) A girl and a boy. Pretty perfect. I knew it was a boy. Just like I knew Lydia was a girl. Good intuition: two out of two.

Today was my perinatologist appointment at 13 weeks. It went very well. A DVD of the entire sonogram was recorded (30 minutes) and we have many pictures from the sono. Everything is developing normally...10 fingers accounted for, good heartbeat and heart formation, brain and spine and limbs look good (hmmmm....I feel like I was saying this just a few months ago about our other child...).  

The perinatologist also recommended the anticoagulant daily injections. We just need to figure out how to pay for it. She said she is more concerned not only because of Lydia's stillbirth, but also because I have two bad copies of MTHFR that coupled with low Protein S has greater potential for blood clotting problems.

I feel guilty for not being more excited. With each doctor's appointment I feel more relief than excitement. When I was pregnant with Lydia, each doctor's appointment, the sonograms, every time we'd hear her heartbeat, I was excited. Now I breathe a sigh of relief. And hold my breath for the next appointment. I am an anxious person. Add experience with that and these positive reports from the doctors are wonderful to hear, but do not alleviate my anxiety and concern. Every single one of Lydia's appointments went well. We had no signs of problems. Two weeks before she was stillborn, everything looked great.

I'm not saying I am not thankful each time. I am very thankful nothing is wrong with the baby; that the only problem identified is a problem with me, not him. I am grateful he is growing healthy and we are not having any serious complications. Thank You, Lord.

Wow, a boy! 

And how I miss my baby girl! 

Tear Soup

Let's start with good news: yesterday my husband and I heard our baby's strong heartbeat at 170 beats per minute! Praise the Lord!

Also at yesterday's OB appointment, results from the blood work I had done 3 weeks prior had arrived. I have two mutated copies of MTHFR. As a result I am on a different prenatal vitamin with a specific type of folic acid not found in your standard prescription prenatals to help with the folic acid problem MTHFR causes. I also have a protein S deficiency, treatment for that isn't as painless as a pill. I'll be giving myself daily injections for the duration of the pregnancy. We also discussed some other problems and issues. More testing and further decisions about treatment will be made soon after my perinatologist appointment. It is a pressure and a little anxiety provoking, yet I feel a sense of relief to have something to do that may prevent another loss.

My longsuffering, ever thoughtful husband gave me an early Christmas gift yesterday evening when we got home from the doctor. A book: Tear Soup. It is the best book I have read in a long time. It's an illustrated children's book with a deep meaning I could definitely identify. I love reading things that express how I feel when I don't have the words. The full title is Tear Soup: A Recipe for Healing after Loss. I highly recommend it to everyone. If you can find it in a library or next time you are in a bookstore, check to see if it's there. It's short and can be read in the store. You should read it.

Time to keep making my Tear Soup.

Mother of Two: Part 2

 I felt pregnant before I had a positive pregnancy test. I could feel the change in my body. The first home test I took was negative. Five days later, on October 10, I took another test. It was positive! So begins months of anxiety and doctor appointments. We are very excited and joyful, more than I can express, but the fear is very real. 

   I have had 3 sonograms, 11 tubes of blood drawn, and 3 OB appointments thus far. I feel like I am checking things off a list: 

1. first sono showed very little, but we established the embryo was attached to the uterine wall, no ectopic pregnancy = in the right place - check

2. second sono we were able to see the heartbeat = heartbeat, things are going ok

3. third sono we were able to hear the heartbeat and see the arm buds and leg buds = our baby is developing

    I have had morning sickness. Extreme fatigue is plaguing me. I can sleep 10 straight hours at night, but half way through the work day it is all I can do to stay awake, much less focused. I cannot stop thinking about going to bed. I fight the urge to curl up on my desk and give way to sleep that my body demands. 

  Yes, I am enjoying every minute. Honestly, every day I am thankful to have one more day with my baby for I do not know when it will be the last. As far as I know baby is healthy and developing and I am grateful for throwing up and being exhausted and the other complications. 

Excited! 

Thanks for all the congratulatory comments and support!!!

Mother of Two: Part 1

I'm pregnant!

  Yes, I am 10 weeks pregnant (technically tomorrow I will be 10 weeks). This sweet baby is due June 21st. We are incredibly excited and joyful for God to have blessed us with another child. We were going to wait to share our news with everyone, but (1) I am already starting to show and (2) the immediate family we did share our news with have already told more people than I would ever dream of telling. I needed to say something before others shared our news.

   "Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep" (Romans 12:15)

---you've got to be around for both---

   It is difficult to hear excitement from people whom neither my husband or I told we were pregnant and have not shared in our sorrow. One woman expressed her excitement to host a baby shower. She did not know about Lydia and I was unaware she knew I was pregnant. I am no where near a place to begin thinking about baby showers. (Can we do that after this little one safely arrives?) Then there are people with whom we have planned to share our news, only to find out they have already been told. It makes me angry and annoyed. More so when it is someone who is unaware of our loss or was not supportive with the loss of our child. Too much joy and excitement from others is too much for me. My husband said it was not fair to tell people and ask them to keep it a secret. So I did not tell anyone not to share our news, I just assumed (never smart) that others would understand it is OUR news. The emotions are really compounded with the loss of Lydia.

   The two most prevalent reactions I have heard are as follows:

Isn't it too soon? I've been asked if it is safe for me to be pregnant, is my body ready, is it alright with my OB, isn't it too early emotionally/physically, will being pregnant so soon increase my risk of loss...
You are neither my OB nor my husband, do not tell me when is the right time to be pregnant.

I'm so excited! I am so happy for you, this is wonderful, this will make everything better. No. I will never have my daughter I lost. I want her and this baby. This little one is her/his own person. She/he is not a replacement. Being pregnant has not ended my grief.

  Then there are both reactions from the same person: "Oh, I am so excited! Are you sure it's ok? This will be so great, things will be great! Did you doctor say it was okay for you to be pregnant so soon?"


   Ah, dealing with people.

I dislike reading extremely long blogs, so to be kind to me readers I am ending this blog now and will continue with my pregnancy story on the next blog post.