It's been a while since I've blogged, Jason is sick. I think he has the flu, it's definitely going around. I would rather see him jumping off the sofa then sleeping all day. We're on day 2, I hope he gets better soon.
On to other news, I am now a few days from being 16 weeks pregnant. We just recently told my parents the news and it's out at work as well. I had my OB appt. today. The heart rate was 160, I've gained 3lbs and all seemed to be going well. Then my OB told me my blood test revealed positive antibodies. It caught me off guard. Antibodies. WTF? She went on to explain that I have antibodies present on my red blood cells but not in sufficient quantity to be able to determine what specific antigen they are reacting to. She said at this point, the baby is fine. But she went ahead and we had a redrawn done. It took me a while to absorb all of this information. On the drive home, I realized that if she said the baby is fine RIGHT NOW, that could change if I continue to have these antibodies. I am Rh positive, and so is my husband. So there is no way the baby could be Rh negative. So, what else could it be. Then I googled it, and there is so many different antibodies. I had a mini freakout, but had to stop to take care of Jason.
So, for now. I am going to cross my fingers and pray that the repeat blood draw doesn't reveal anymore antibodies. It's so frustrating, just when I began to actually allow myself to feel hope. This happens. Although, Dr. J didn't seem to concerned. She said sometimes the blood work will reveal these antibodies and they mean nothing. I hope this is the case.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Cautiously optimistic
It's been a while since I last posted. I've been around, reading all of your blogs, basking in the happiness of fellow bloggers whom have just had their healthy babies. Congratulations! I am so happy on the arrival of your little bundle of joys. It gives me HOPE. Again, Congratulations!!!
And of course, I'm walking along with you, walking through the journey of infertility, injections, IUIs and IVF. I hold you all dear and close to my heart. Wishing you well, sending baby dust your way.
My pregnancy is going well so far. I am now 12ish weeks pregnant, past the "safety" mark. Is it ever safe? No, I think not, but I will pretend it is. I need to be in oblivion again. Only, I can't, I've traveled through that treacherous path before, I know there is never a safe time in pregnancy.
I had my first OB appointment last week. It went as well as could be expected. Of course, being there brought back all the painful memories of discovering that Ethan had died. But, I survived. I made it through the appointment without crying the entire time. Since it was my first appointment, I first met with the nurse, Michelle, she was great. She initially put me in the room where we could not hear his heartbeat, and I just lost it. She moved us into another room immediately, she was sympathetic and didn't make me repeat my whole history. That, in itself, is also very painful. Finally, I met with Dr. J, I just love her. She was elated to have us there. As was I, I can't imagine anybody else treating us. We heard the baby's heartbeat. I love that sound.
Which brings me to my confession, I bought a fetal doppler and absolutely love it. I am officially addicted to it. I am listening to the baby, first thing in the morning and before I go to bed. Wow. I just love it.
Back to my appointment, we did talk about the whole course of action for the pregnancy and she said most likely I would deliver early. She suggested maybe 36-37 weeks, depending on an amnio to determine lung maturity. But, no longer than 39 weeks. I have predisposing factors which can contribute to poor placental function. I have hypertension and lupus anticoagulant. She also said I'd have weekly ultrasounds and biweekly stress test and biophysical profiles. So, there you have it. I'm OK with this, I would feel better. At the end, I just want to hold a live baby in my arms.
This Friday I have my next appointment with the MFM doctor. Where I have elected to have the first trimester screening. I'm excited, and of course cautiously optimistic. I didn't do any of these test with Ethan, but I opted to have it just to get the detailed ultrasounds early on. Of course, they measure the nuchal fold. But, I know for sure, I will not do an amnio or CVS. If there is a risk of miscarrying, I will not take that chance. I've been on the other side of the statistics and don't want to be there again.
Now, I just have to visualize the ultrasound machine. I have to remember to breathe. I think I will need to have a pedicure or massage before the appointment. Just thinking of the ultrasound, I get panicked. I go back to May 21st, when it was confirmed that Ethan died. But, I will get through this, I will do it. I can do this. I have no choice.
And of course, I'm walking along with you, walking through the journey of infertility, injections, IUIs and IVF. I hold you all dear and close to my heart. Wishing you well, sending baby dust your way.
My pregnancy is going well so far. I am now 12ish weeks pregnant, past the "safety" mark. Is it ever safe? No, I think not, but I will pretend it is. I need to be in oblivion again. Only, I can't, I've traveled through that treacherous path before, I know there is never a safe time in pregnancy.
I had my first OB appointment last week. It went as well as could be expected. Of course, being there brought back all the painful memories of discovering that Ethan had died. But, I survived. I made it through the appointment without crying the entire time. Since it was my first appointment, I first met with the nurse, Michelle, she was great. She initially put me in the room where we could not hear his heartbeat, and I just lost it. She moved us into another room immediately, she was sympathetic and didn't make me repeat my whole history. That, in itself, is also very painful. Finally, I met with Dr. J, I just love her. She was elated to have us there. As was I, I can't imagine anybody else treating us. We heard the baby's heartbeat. I love that sound.
Which brings me to my confession, I bought a fetal doppler and absolutely love it. I am officially addicted to it. I am listening to the baby, first thing in the morning and before I go to bed. Wow. I just love it.
Back to my appointment, we did talk about the whole course of action for the pregnancy and she said most likely I would deliver early. She suggested maybe 36-37 weeks, depending on an amnio to determine lung maturity. But, no longer than 39 weeks. I have predisposing factors which can contribute to poor placental function. I have hypertension and lupus anticoagulant. She also said I'd have weekly ultrasounds and biweekly stress test and biophysical profiles. So, there you have it. I'm OK with this, I would feel better. At the end, I just want to hold a live baby in my arms.
This Friday I have my next appointment with the MFM doctor. Where I have elected to have the first trimester screening. I'm excited, and of course cautiously optimistic. I didn't do any of these test with Ethan, but I opted to have it just to get the detailed ultrasounds early on. Of course, they measure the nuchal fold. But, I know for sure, I will not do an amnio or CVS. If there is a risk of miscarrying, I will not take that chance. I've been on the other side of the statistics and don't want to be there again.
Now, I just have to visualize the ultrasound machine. I have to remember to breathe. I think I will need to have a pedicure or massage before the appointment. Just thinking of the ultrasound, I get panicked. I go back to May 21st, when it was confirmed that Ethan died. But, I will get through this, I will do it. I can do this. I have no choice.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Nightmares...when will they stop
I'm in my fertility doctor's office, I just had an ultrasound and saw the heartbeat, then suddenly I begin to have pelvic pain. I tell the nurse, the doctor comes in, tells me I have to go to the hospital. She walks me over, I look down, blood dripping down my leg. I am miscarrying, they ask me when was the last time I ate. I'm crying, thinking not another loss. I'm trying to reach my husband, I can't seem to find my cell phone. I'm walking through the hospital corridor, people are starring. Starring at the mess walking in front of them. I sit in a hospital chair, while the registration people get me registered. They give me another blanket, I'm cold. Kim, my fertility doctor's nurse, tells me she will buy me lunch when all of this is over. I ask if they will test for chromosome problems and she assures me they will. I'm asking why, why did it happen, I had just seen the heartbeat. Now, I feel something. It's between my legs, it's the sac carrying my baby.
The phone is ringing, I'm still dreaming. I finally manage to wake up. It's a familiar number, I think. I just missed it, went to voicemail. Yes, I'm wide awake now. I look down, no blood, it was just a dream. I call my voicemail, and to my surprise it's Dr. J. My OB, she's left me a message. She tells me she was so happy to find my chart on her desk upon her arrival from vacation. She's calling to tell me how excited and happy she is for me, and how she knows this will be very scary but we will get through it together. Her voice is full of glee and optimism.
That was the best wake up call I've ever had. A good way to bring me back to reality, to drag me out of that hellish nightmare.
The phone is ringing, I'm still dreaming. I finally manage to wake up. It's a familiar number, I think. I just missed it, went to voicemail. Yes, I'm wide awake now. I look down, no blood, it was just a dream. I call my voicemail, and to my surprise it's Dr. J. My OB, she's left me a message. She tells me she was so happy to find my chart on her desk upon her arrival from vacation. She's calling to tell me how excited and happy she is for me, and how she knows this will be very scary but we will get through it together. Her voice is full of glee and optimism.
That was the best wake up call I've ever had. A good way to bring me back to reality, to drag me out of that hellish nightmare.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
New Year's Eve
Good bye 2008. What a year, I remember last NYE, I was pregnant, over the 12 week safety mark. I was eagerly awaiting the arrival of our baby.
Yet, even though Ethan was born still, I say good bye to 2008 with a heavy heart. 2008 was supposed to be our year, our year to welcome our baby. Jason was finally going to be a big brother. In ways I can't articulate well enough, I am sad today. I feel as though time is passing by and leaving my baby Ethan behind. Sometimes, I just want to go back to May 23rd 2008. To the day he was born. Because even if he wasn't breathing, I had him in my arms. I remember that day as being the saddest day and happiest day of my life. I finally got to meet my baby Ethan. I marveled at his beautiful face. His tiny ears folded over, just like my nephew Vinnie. And here we are saying goodbye to 2008 and it feels as if though we are in a sense saying goodbye to Ethan. But, I know in my heart, I will never ever be able to let go of my Ethan.
I wish all of you a peaceful entry to 2009. May we all have peace in our hearts tonight. Be safe. You are all always in my thoughts. Every time I hear one of your baby's names, I think of you all. Peace be with all of you tonight.
Yet, even though Ethan was born still, I say good bye to 2008 with a heavy heart. 2008 was supposed to be our year, our year to welcome our baby. Jason was finally going to be a big brother. In ways I can't articulate well enough, I am sad today. I feel as though time is passing by and leaving my baby Ethan behind. Sometimes, I just want to go back to May 23rd 2008. To the day he was born. Because even if he wasn't breathing, I had him in my arms. I remember that day as being the saddest day and happiest day of my life. I finally got to meet my baby Ethan. I marveled at his beautiful face. His tiny ears folded over, just like my nephew Vinnie. And here we are saying goodbye to 2008 and it feels as if though we are in a sense saying goodbye to Ethan. But, I know in my heart, I will never ever be able to let go of my Ethan.
I wish all of you a peaceful entry to 2009. May we all have peace in our hearts tonight. Be safe. You are all always in my thoughts. Every time I hear one of your baby's names, I think of you all. Peace be with all of you tonight.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Neonatal Resuscitation Program
Thursday I took a class, the NRP, at the women's hospital near where I work. It was one of the hardest classes, not the material, I've been an ED nurse, for some time now. But, the whole thing. Being in a classroom right next to the NICU. Knowing that some babies are in there and are fighting for their lives, thinking of how many babies have died in that NICU. Thinking of their parents, their grief, their loss.
Well, I passed but not with flying colors. I was there as a deadbabymama and not an experienced pediatric ED nurse. I couldn't think, my mind was foggy, I was hit with a large dose of grief, right there during my class. We watched a video going over the main points of NRP, and they talked about end of life care. I wanted to vomit. I could feel myself holding back my tears. This was just too close to home. I've been on the receiving end of that care. I've had the bereavement nurse and chaplain at my bedside. Back in May, the bereavement nurse held my hand and told me what to expect. Because, I was there, pregnant with my deadbaby. I was being induced to deliver my deadbaby. I had no freaking clue what to expect. I had never delivered a baby before, and the event I had been anticipating for months was there, too soon and I was totally unprepared. I had no fucking clue on what was to happen.
Fast forward, the video is over. Now we've moved on to the simulated baby in the NICU. I see them there, the ossilators, the ventilators, the incubators. I almost walked out, luckily the room we were in was separated from the NICU with a partition. We are now being evaluated, we will be given a scenario. It's my turn, my scenario, a full term baby delivered via C section. Mother was at OB's office and no heart beat was heard, she had an emergency C section. I almost couldn't catch my breath, this could've been me. Only my baby didn't have a chance, he was already dead when we had the ultrasound. He died during the night.
Like I said before, I passed but barely. Then there was the written test, one of the questions was how long would you "code" a baby with no heart beat after an emergent C section.
A. 20 minutes
B. 10 minutes
C. 30 minutes
D. 60 minutes
My answer was C. 30 minutes. I was wrong. The correct answer was B. 10 minutes
My brain knows this, but my heart, the heart of a deadbabymama says 30 minutes.
Now, that I've taken this re certification class, I'm good until 2010. And by the way, I almost did vomit, I was going through the motions, drying off my 34 week plastic baby, and I gagged right there. I told the instructor, I had not ate breakfast and had a drink of Coke on an empty stomach. Partly true, the real truth was my grief was ever so consuming.
Well, I passed but not with flying colors. I was there as a deadbabymama and not an experienced pediatric ED nurse. I couldn't think, my mind was foggy, I was hit with a large dose of grief, right there during my class. We watched a video going over the main points of NRP, and they talked about end of life care. I wanted to vomit. I could feel myself holding back my tears. This was just too close to home. I've been on the receiving end of that care. I've had the bereavement nurse and chaplain at my bedside. Back in May, the bereavement nurse held my hand and told me what to expect. Because, I was there, pregnant with my deadbaby. I was being induced to deliver my deadbaby. I had no freaking clue what to expect. I had never delivered a baby before, and the event I had been anticipating for months was there, too soon and I was totally unprepared. I had no fucking clue on what was to happen.
Fast forward, the video is over. Now we've moved on to the simulated baby in the NICU. I see them there, the ossilators, the ventilators, the incubators. I almost walked out, luckily the room we were in was separated from the NICU with a partition. We are now being evaluated, we will be given a scenario. It's my turn, my scenario, a full term baby delivered via C section. Mother was at OB's office and no heart beat was heard, she had an emergency C section. I almost couldn't catch my breath, this could've been me. Only my baby didn't have a chance, he was already dead when we had the ultrasound. He died during the night.
Like I said before, I passed but barely. Then there was the written test, one of the questions was how long would you "code" a baby with no heart beat after an emergent C section.
A. 20 minutes
B. 10 minutes
C. 30 minutes
D. 60 minutes
My answer was C. 30 minutes. I was wrong. The correct answer was B. 10 minutes
My brain knows this, but my heart, the heart of a deadbabymama says 30 minutes.
Now, that I've taken this re certification class, I'm good until 2010. And by the way, I almost did vomit, I was going through the motions, drying off my 34 week plastic baby, and I gagged right there. I told the instructor, I had not ate breakfast and had a drink of Coke on an empty stomach. Partly true, the real truth was my grief was ever so consuming.
Friday, December 12, 2008
There is a heartbeat....sigh
Yes, the heartbeat was there, tiny, but there. Beating away at 120.6 bpm. At first, I couldn't see it. I saw a black hole, it appeared to have nothing in it. My doctor was quiet, I asked is there something there. Then the nurse pointed out the heart, flickering away. Ahhh, a loud sigh came out.
The CRL measurement is 4.7 mm. My cervix looked good. And yes, my left ovary was huge. No wonder, I've been having twinges of pain.
He actually gave me a due date of Aug. 6. I can't even think that far in advance. Will I make it. I pray that I do, that my baby does. PLEASE!
I have one more appointment with him, my exit appointment, then I will move on to my OB and the MFM doctor. And now I'll be taking Lovenox instead of Heparin. Go figure. I don't really care as long as everything turns out OK.
Thanks for ALL of your well wishes and support!
The CRL measurement is 4.7 mm. My cervix looked good. And yes, my left ovary was huge. No wonder, I've been having twinges of pain.
He actually gave me a due date of Aug. 6. I can't even think that far in advance. Will I make it. I pray that I do, that my baby does. PLEASE!
I have one more appointment with him, my exit appointment, then I will move on to my OB and the MFM doctor. And now I'll be taking Lovenox instead of Heparin. Go figure. I don't really care as long as everything turns out OK.
Thanks for ALL of your well wishes and support!
Monday, December 8, 2008
PTSD
Yesterday, we had a lazy Sunday. I took a long nap, and while I was napping I had a dream. I was in my RE's office for my viability ultrasound and there was no heartbeat. Then I was transported back to May 21st, I was in my OB's office and it was happening again. NO HEARTBEAT! I woke up in a panic, in a sweat. I told my husband I'm terrified of having an ultrasound. I'm terrified of not finding a heartbeat.
I had many ultrasounds during my IUI and injectible cycle. Heck, I had them every other day. But, they were safe ultrasounds, looking at my ovaries, looking at my follicles. Not looking for a heartbeat. I'm terrified.
I'm trying to imagine it, walk through the steps in my mind. Then I tell myself if there is no heartbeat, it could still be fine, it just might be too early. Gosh, will I survive this pregnancy? Is it still a pregnancy?
I'm freaking out. Even at work, at times when I pass by the ultrasound rooms I get chills, I have to look away. I think of how I was there on the table, looking at the screen and I couldn't see the heart rate thingy work on the ultrasound machine. I knew then, Ethan had died.
I remember last time with Ethan, we told the key people in our lives that I was pregnant. I think I was barely 5 weeks. Pretty cocky of me, don't you think? I was so naive. I was so sure we would have a baby. And boy was I wrong.
It's Monday, we have our ultrasound Friday. In the meantime, I think I will try to clean the house and even go the gym. The gym helps clear my mind, it centers me. But, wait I really can't run or anything. Well, I will stroll on the treadmill. I need to distract my mind and maybe I need to get a therapist for my ultrasound phobia. I think I'm losing it.
I had many ultrasounds during my IUI and injectible cycle. Heck, I had them every other day. But, they were safe ultrasounds, looking at my ovaries, looking at my follicles. Not looking for a heartbeat. I'm terrified.
I'm trying to imagine it, walk through the steps in my mind. Then I tell myself if there is no heartbeat, it could still be fine, it just might be too early. Gosh, will I survive this pregnancy? Is it still a pregnancy?
I'm freaking out. Even at work, at times when I pass by the ultrasound rooms I get chills, I have to look away. I think of how I was there on the table, looking at the screen and I couldn't see the heart rate thingy work on the ultrasound machine. I knew then, Ethan had died.
I remember last time with Ethan, we told the key people in our lives that I was pregnant. I think I was barely 5 weeks. Pretty cocky of me, don't you think? I was so naive. I was so sure we would have a baby. And boy was I wrong.
It's Monday, we have our ultrasound Friday. In the meantime, I think I will try to clean the house and even go the gym. The gym helps clear my mind, it centers me. But, wait I really can't run or anything. Well, I will stroll on the treadmill. I need to distract my mind and maybe I need to get a therapist for my ultrasound phobia. I think I'm losing it.
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