January doesn't seem to be a good month for me. Seven years ago today, I was having a miscarriage in Israel. It's strange to think back on in light of everything now. I don't know if it was because I was young and didn't know better or if it was because I was young and didn't expect problems but that experience was far more traumatizing than the one I just went through. I remember laying in the hotel room, looking across the room at Jamal and saying, "I think my heart is actually breaking." I had never before experienced a situation in which the grief associated with the event caused actual physical pain. I felt like my heart and lungs were being crushed under the weight of all my crumbling dreams. We hadn't been actively trying to get pregnant so it was a surprise but once I found out I jumped full force into the fact that this would be our new life. I made new plans and new dreams and was very excited.
Afterward, we were encouraged to go to the hospital to make sure everything was okay. I sat in a long hallway in the hospital there waiting for someone to see me. There was a woman laying on a gurney in the same hallway covered with blood from the waist down.....moaning in pain. It really built up my confidence and didn't scare me at all (sarcasm.) I remember the attending doctor reminded me of Ross on the show Friends, he actually went to school here in the states and attended the Medical College of Wisconsin. Our personal connection to him didn't last long. I remember he asked me why I was there and I told him I had a miscarriage and he said with irritation in his voice, "How do YOU know THAT?????"
Ummmmmm, what the %$@*????
We had brought the baby with us and after looking at it for a few seconds he threw it in the garbage. Enter my searing hot, frothy, trucker mouth and lots of bleeping. I knew then we would have a "challenging" patient/doctor relationship. (Jamal got the baby out of the garbage while he wasn't looking.)
He told me I was going to bleed to death on the plane ride home and also told me to take out my own IV and leave when I refused to have a D&C (the surgery). Why should his expertise be questioned, right? The reason I refused is because I had about seven ultrasounds during my two days there and all of those doctors said that there was nothing left to remove with surgery. It was awesome. He also told me that Jamal couldn't stay overnight with me... no one could. The doctor was so angry that I refused the surgery that I was afraid they would come to get me in the night and do it anyway. Jamal hid and slept that night under my hospital bed so that he could protect me.
Disclaimer: I do not think my experience was a reflection on the Israeli hospital systems or on doctors in general. My experience also had nothing to do with being in a different country. It was specific to the personality and beliefs of the doctor that we were working with. Everyone else was very nice to me. In many ways I think they used technology much more freely and efficiently than they do here in the states. The nurse whispered to us when we were leaving, "all of us think you have made a good decision."
The whole hospital visit which included ER, Inpatient stay for two days AND several ultrasounds cost a total of $944.00. I remember that distinctly because we paid for the visit with cash before we left the hospital because we didn't have health insurance at that time.
Fast forward seven years....We just got a statement of how much the hospital submitted to our current health insurance company only for the inpatient hospital stay.... which doesn't include any of the procedures or doctors that saw me. It only includes me staying in the room and it was $5,400.00.
It must have been the fancy gown they gave me to wear during my visit...... I am pretty sure it was designer.
....So, now what?
Partial Molar Pregnancies can actually be very dangerous. Some women become so ill (pre-eclampsia, liver and or kidney failure) while they are pregnant that they actually have to choose to terminate their pregnancies in order to save their own lives. I feel very grateful that despite everything I remained healthy during the pregnancy and I didn't have to make that choice. All molar pregnancies, complete or partial, have a small chance that they can develop into cancer. In complete Molar Pregnancies, the chance of problems is much higher. If any remnants of conception are left within the uterus, they can continue to grow and cause problems. Luckily the partial molar tissue was very minimal in my case and as far as the lab could tell, everything came out.
In order to make sure I don't have any problems, I have to go back to the hospital once a week and have blood drawn to check my HCG levels. HCG is the pregnancy hormone. When all is well, everything drops to 0 and stays at 0 unless and until you become pregnant again. Any abnormal tissue or remnants of conception will continue to produce HCG and therefore that number will never go down to zero and/or stay there. This is the indicator to the physician that something is wrong and further investigating needs to take place.
After having HCG levels in the 40,000's while I was pregnant, my serum (blood) level dropped to 750 one week after birth. At two weeks (this past Monday) it was at 250. Hopefully by next week it will be down.... but I don't know if that will happen. It takes time to come down all of the way. The doctor is looking for it to drop to 0 and then stay there for three consecutive draws. I think those draws will be monthly rather than weekly once it hits zero.
At that point we will get the clean bill of health.... fingers crossed. In the past, doctors recommended waiting a year before trying to conceive again after a Partial Molar Pregnancy. Hopefully that wont be the case with us but I guess you do want needs to be done. We have another appointment in March to go through all of that.
I woke up yesterday feeling a lot of fear about moving forward. Even though this was just a fluke accident, it is easy to begin doubting and worrying about the future. I am trying not to live in that space but it's very difficult and there isn't much that can be said to make me feel better about it. Jamal and I have talked and talked and talked. The doctors and I have talked and talked and talked. There are positive, rational answers to all of my questions and concerns. The only way to actually get past any fear and doubt is to climb its mountain again and see whats on the other side.
I will be very skeptical of any "answers" until I do.
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
1.22.2012
1.19.2012
To Share or Not to Share: Part 4
The next few days were kind of a blur. Jamal and I took lots of naps and walks and watched a lot of movies. I was completely exhausted both emotionally and physically. It felt strange going out anywhere. In a way I felt like I was walking around with a tattoo on my forehead. I am certain no one could tell but it felt strange and I felt different.
Friday morning I woke up to find that my milk had come in. This was by far the most difficult part of everything we went through and I felt very emotional about it. With being 5 months pregnant I was kind of at the cusp of this happening. Some women do and some women don't. They didn't tell me to expect this in the hospital and I definitely wasn't expecting it.
I decided to go back to work on Monday because unfortunately the day that I found out was the first day that my spring intern had started. I had left her at a school when I ran over to my doctors appointment the Tuesday before and I never went back to pick her up. Luckily my amazing boss figured it out and rescued her but her car keys and phone were locked in my desk at work. I had the keys around my neck at the hospital. I felt like I needed to go back to help direct her and make sure she was having a decent learning experience. I also was looking forward to returning to some sense of being normal and having a structured schedule. In retrospect I shouldn't have gone back so soon.
Tuesday we went in for our follow-up appointment with my midwife. She checked me out and made sure that everything was going back to normal. She had also gotten ahold of the pathology report from the physical examination of the body and gave us a copy.
Our baby was a little boy. Neither Jamal and I thought about or cared enough in the hospital to go exploring. Our little baby was so sweet and delicate I didn't want to start pulling it's legs apart and seeking out information that didn't really matter. He had no physical abnormalities whatsoever however the pathology report did indicate that the placenta had some features which maybe indicative of a "Partial Molar Pregnancy." (This is very different than a plain old Molar Pregnancy) They decided to go ahead and do a ploidy study which figures out how many sets of chromosomes the baby has. We had to meet with the OB Gyn in order to get the information from that test. It felt really nice to have some answers.
On Thursday I spent the day at work feeling extremely ill. I could tell something was up but didn't really know what. When I got home I took my temperature and it was 99.4.... and hour later it had jumped to 100.9. My discharge information from the hospital said that if I have a temperature over 101 degrees I needed to go to the ER immediately due to risks of infection. Because I am stubborn, I decided to call instead. They transferred me to three separate people who all agreed that I needed to go in ASAP. So I cried and we went. I got poked and prodded by everyone and their uncle in the ER that night and had just about as many pelvic exams as a normal lady has in her lifetime. They also did chest x-rays and drew about a quart of blood.... well maybe not THAT much ;). They checked for everything and it came back normal. The only thing that was low was my potassium level. I was discharged around 1:00 in the morning and we got home and to bed around 2:00. I took that Friday off and made an earlier follow-up with the OB Gyn on Monday morning.
I spent the entire day Friday and Saturday fighting fevers of 103+ and a massive headache. They told me I only needed to come back to the ER if they stayed elevated with Tylenol or if it went up to 104. I just slept and slept and slept. Sunday I was feeling better.
Monday morning we went to see the doctor. She had the results from the ploidy study which we were very excited to hear. The baby had three sets of chromosomes rather than two. There was two from Jamal and one from me. This is the diagnosing feature of the "Partial Molar Pregnancy" that the physical exam results had indicated could have been the problem. My egg was fertilized by not just one but TWO sperm. In order for this to happen, it has to happen at the same exact instant because as soon as a sperm penetrates the egg it causes a chemical reaction which is supposed to prevent that from happening. The pregnancy was actually doomed from the start and there was absolutely nothing that would have prevented the outcome we experienced. Most of the time the pregnancies will end on their own earlier because the babies have severe abnormalities as they develop and the body recognizes it. Fortunately (or unfortunately) and our baby showed no signs of abnormalities and the placenta was almost normal except for the maternal side that had a few abnormal attachments to the uterus. Ultrasounds can normally pick up on the fact that something is wrong because the baby is abnormal and the placenta has cysts on it. That was not the case for us.
The baby tricked everyone. :)
Evidently the baby grew perfectly despite having multiple sets of directions until a point where either the baby's body realized or my body realized that something was not right and the directions were screwed up.
When Jamal and I were first married, I used to become paralyzed with fear over the fact that inevitably we would be separated at some point in our lives. One of us would die before the other one and someone would be left behind. I carried around a lot of fear of the potential grief that I might experience someday until one day I realized that despite the potential for loss and grief, I would never give up things we were experiencing in that moment. Would losing him make the time we spent together not worth spending? Absolutely not.
I say that only because I would not go back and change this experience. Does losing the baby make any of the excitement and joy we experienced null and void? I say absolutely not. I only had a finite amount of time being this baby's mother in this world. In the few short months we spent together, we worked two jobs, went swimming, hiked, played with his cousin Eliana (and her bunny Sugar), laughed with our family, played games, went for walks, was greeted by fifty 5 year olds screaming, 'Ms. Black is having a baby' as they attacked me in order to feel my tummy, visited all of it's living great-grandparents, listened to it's daddy play the guitar, and ate yummy food. We lived. Am I completely sad that things didn't turn out differently? Absolutely! I would have chosen a different outcome if I could create my own reality. Have I cried until my eyeballs felt like they would explode? Absolutely. I feel sad because I miss the baby and I realize I will never experience the physical relationship that I expected... not because I feel a desperate sense of loss. I don't feel bad for myself or Jamal because there are many people that have gone through similar situations or far worse. I never had to make a decision about terminating a pregnancy or carry around the stress of knowing that my baby would be born with physical or mental abnormalities. I never had to watch my baby die. I feel so incredibly grateful for the way things played out.
I don't know how else to say it....
Friday morning I woke up to find that my milk had come in. This was by far the most difficult part of everything we went through and I felt very emotional about it. With being 5 months pregnant I was kind of at the cusp of this happening. Some women do and some women don't. They didn't tell me to expect this in the hospital and I definitely wasn't expecting it.
I decided to go back to work on Monday because unfortunately the day that I found out was the first day that my spring intern had started. I had left her at a school when I ran over to my doctors appointment the Tuesday before and I never went back to pick her up. Luckily my amazing boss figured it out and rescued her but her car keys and phone were locked in my desk at work. I had the keys around my neck at the hospital. I felt like I needed to go back to help direct her and make sure she was having a decent learning experience. I also was looking forward to returning to some sense of being normal and having a structured schedule. In retrospect I shouldn't have gone back so soon.
Tuesday we went in for our follow-up appointment with my midwife. She checked me out and made sure that everything was going back to normal. She had also gotten ahold of the pathology report from the physical examination of the body and gave us a copy.
Our baby was a little boy. Neither Jamal and I thought about or cared enough in the hospital to go exploring. Our little baby was so sweet and delicate I didn't want to start pulling it's legs apart and seeking out information that didn't really matter. He had no physical abnormalities whatsoever however the pathology report did indicate that the placenta had some features which maybe indicative of a "Partial Molar Pregnancy." (This is very different than a plain old Molar Pregnancy) They decided to go ahead and do a ploidy study which figures out how many sets of chromosomes the baby has. We had to meet with the OB Gyn in order to get the information from that test. It felt really nice to have some answers.
On Thursday I spent the day at work feeling extremely ill. I could tell something was up but didn't really know what. When I got home I took my temperature and it was 99.4.... and hour later it had jumped to 100.9. My discharge information from the hospital said that if I have a temperature over 101 degrees I needed to go to the ER immediately due to risks of infection. Because I am stubborn, I decided to call instead. They transferred me to three separate people who all agreed that I needed to go in ASAP. So I cried and we went. I got poked and prodded by everyone and their uncle in the ER that night and had just about as many pelvic exams as a normal lady has in her lifetime. They also did chest x-rays and drew about a quart of blood.... well maybe not THAT much ;). They checked for everything and it came back normal. The only thing that was low was my potassium level. I was discharged around 1:00 in the morning and we got home and to bed around 2:00. I took that Friday off and made an earlier follow-up with the OB Gyn on Monday morning.
I spent the entire day Friday and Saturday fighting fevers of 103+ and a massive headache. They told me I only needed to come back to the ER if they stayed elevated with Tylenol or if it went up to 104. I just slept and slept and slept. Sunday I was feeling better.
Monday morning we went to see the doctor. She had the results from the ploidy study which we were very excited to hear. The baby had three sets of chromosomes rather than two. There was two from Jamal and one from me. This is the diagnosing feature of the "Partial Molar Pregnancy" that the physical exam results had indicated could have been the problem. My egg was fertilized by not just one but TWO sperm. In order for this to happen, it has to happen at the same exact instant because as soon as a sperm penetrates the egg it causes a chemical reaction which is supposed to prevent that from happening. The pregnancy was actually doomed from the start and there was absolutely nothing that would have prevented the outcome we experienced. Most of the time the pregnancies will end on their own earlier because the babies have severe abnormalities as they develop and the body recognizes it. Fortunately (or unfortunately) and our baby showed no signs of abnormalities and the placenta was almost normal except for the maternal side that had a few abnormal attachments to the uterus. Ultrasounds can normally pick up on the fact that something is wrong because the baby is abnormal and the placenta has cysts on it. That was not the case for us.
The baby tricked everyone. :)
Evidently the baby grew perfectly despite having multiple sets of directions until a point where either the baby's body realized or my body realized that something was not right and the directions were screwed up.
When Jamal and I were first married, I used to become paralyzed with fear over the fact that inevitably we would be separated at some point in our lives. One of us would die before the other one and someone would be left behind. I carried around a lot of fear of the potential grief that I might experience someday until one day I realized that despite the potential for loss and grief, I would never give up things we were experiencing in that moment. Would losing him make the time we spent together not worth spending? Absolutely not.
I say that only because I would not go back and change this experience. Does losing the baby make any of the excitement and joy we experienced null and void? I say absolutely not. I only had a finite amount of time being this baby's mother in this world. In the few short months we spent together, we worked two jobs, went swimming, hiked, played with his cousin Eliana (and her bunny Sugar), laughed with our family, played games, went for walks, was greeted by fifty 5 year olds screaming, 'Ms. Black is having a baby' as they attacked me in order to feel my tummy, visited all of it's living great-grandparents, listened to it's daddy play the guitar, and ate yummy food. We lived. Am I completely sad that things didn't turn out differently? Absolutely! I would have chosen a different outcome if I could create my own reality. Have I cried until my eyeballs felt like they would explode? Absolutely. I feel sad because I miss the baby and I realize I will never experience the physical relationship that I expected... not because I feel a desperate sense of loss. I don't feel bad for myself or Jamal because there are many people that have gone through similar situations or far worse. I never had to make a decision about terminating a pregnancy or carry around the stress of knowing that my baby would be born with physical or mental abnormalities. I never had to watch my baby die. I feel so incredibly grateful for the way things played out.
I don't know how else to say it....
1.18.2012
To Share or Not to Share: Part Three
Then began the longest night of my life.
I really can't even try to put into words the love and gratitude I feel for everyone that posted, texted, emailed, messaged etc throughout the night that night. It was like finding light in the darkness both figuratively and literally as I laid in bed staring at the faint glow of the up and down buttons on my hospital bed. I don't think that I had a single focused thought that night, but every time my phone lit up it was a gentle reminder that I was still alive, and safe and loved. I am eternally grateful and completely inspired by the outpouring of love I received from everyone.
In the morning, I decided to "get up" around 6:00 am. The nurse had come in throughout the night to check on me and she was there again. I went to the bathroom and was startled by my instantly flat(ish) stomach. (I said ish.) I was amazed how fast everything kind of goes back to normal. The doctor came around shortly after and talked about what I could expect to experience during the recovery period and to answer any questions that we had. Jamal and I had to make some decisions about what kind of testing we wanted, if any, in order to figure out what happened. We also hadn't thought about the fact that we had to decide what we were doing with the body.
Our midwife came by around 8:00 am to check in and ended up sitting and chatting for almost an hour while she held the baby. We explained to her all of the events that took place the night before and talked to her about what she thought we should do as we moved forward. She told us that genetic testing is extremely expensive and is not covered by insurance. In less than 50% of cases do they actually find anything of value and at that point they have to do more testing to figure out if it was a chronic problem or fluke. They also would have to do additional testing to see which one of us was carrying the genetic abnormality.
So, in our situation there were several options for testing:
Tier 1- Low Cost
Physical examination of the placenta, baby and umbilical cord to see if they can determine any physical abnormalities or reasons why this happened. They could possibly determine if the umbilical cord was defective or if there was damage for some reason.
Tier 2- Middle Cost
Full Blown Autopsy... we all know what that involves
Tier 3- High Cost
Genetic Testing and other extensive tests.
At this point, Jamal and I asked for two things 1. To speak to another doctor and 2. To talk to the hospital social worker (which I HIGHLY recommend no matter who you are and how much money you think you have.)
We spent all day waiting for these two people to come and see us, but it was very productive when they did. Because of the information we received from our midwife about the genetic testing, we were able to ask the doctor some specific, direct questions about how she felt the testing would benefit us in our situation. She agreed that very rarely does anyone find anything useful and the costs FAR outweigh the potential benefits. We chose to forgo the extensive tests. I felt more comfortable moving forward and spending our resources on preventing this from happening again in the future rather than looking back. She also said she didn't think an autopsy would benefit us in our situation.
Nice! We probably "made" several thousand dollars or more by demanding to speak with another doctor and actually following through and waiting all day for her to come. Talking to her had eliminated all of the high cost testing options and we didn't have to deal with the guilt of "does this decision mean we don't care about what happened to our child.... or more importantly will THEY think we don't care about our child if we opt out of the testing." We opted for only the physical examination.
The hospital social worker also had some really incredible information about our options for burying the baby. If it was up to me, I would have taken the baby with us and buried it on our own somewhere out in the wilderness where only Jamal and I would know. Yeah, they don't let you do that. It's not worth asking. Jamal told the social worker, "If the answer is no, that is fine but I want to know WHY the answer is no and what exact law prevents us from doing this." This poor women called pretty much every law enforcing body in the state of Wisconsin and we did not get anyone's permission. No one knew of the exact law but no one said we could do it. Someone from a funeral home had pick up the remains because transporting human remains is against the law in Milwaukee County. The state has different laws but the hospital and Milwaukee County have their own policies and procedures and laws.
So, in light of that information our only option was to work with a funeral home. The social workers alerted us to the fact that Krause's Funeral Home waives all fees for people in our situation. So of course we contacted them. They also told us that there are several cemeteries in the city of Milwaukee that donate plots to parents who have lost a child. One of those cemeteries is Lincoln Memorial where two of my lovely great grandmothers "Cookie Grandma" and "Grammie" are buried. We chose to bury the baby there. (The graveside service happened this morning 1/18/12 at 10:00 because it took that long to get everything situated, papers signed, body released from the hospital etc.) This was a big headache.
By the time all of this was figured out and settled it was about 4:00 in the afternoon on 1/4/12. We said a few more prayers and sat in the quiet of our hospital room for a few more minutes and held the baby. I didn't want to leave the baby there. I know that sounds strange but probably the most difficult moment was walking out of the hospital room and handing the baby over to the nurse. It was very difficult. Both of us didn't really feel like going home yet but we didn't know what to do so we went and sat at a restaurant, got a bowl of soup, and sat there and talked to one another for an hour or so.
We finally decided that we should go home and took showers and prepared to go to sleep. It was really nice to be home but also very strange. My closet was full of maternity clothing and I had birthing books scattered around the house.
As I went to bed I realized hormones are very funny things.... they don't always respond to what actually happened but they definitely respond to what should have happened. I literally couldn't sleep more than 1 1/2 hours at a time. I woke up like clockwork throughout the night. It makes perfect sense though, little babies nurse every two hours or more and my body was doing exactly what it was supposed to do. I had an intense urge to hug/hold something which my pillow benefited from greatly. Unfortunately all the maternal instinct was wasted on a 12x18 inch square of stuffing.
All I could think about that night was, "What do we do now?"
Do we wake up tomorrow and eat breakfast? Am I in shock? How am I feeling? Do I really think everything has settled in yet? Am I dealing with this like a should be? Should we just get up tomorrow and go for a walk? What if our neighbors see us? How do we explain everything? Am I willing and/or able to talk about it to them?
Maybe we should run away and start a new life where no one knows what happened...
Maybe I'll wake up pregnant and this will all be a dream.
I really can't even try to put into words the love and gratitude I feel for everyone that posted, texted, emailed, messaged etc throughout the night that night. It was like finding light in the darkness both figuratively and literally as I laid in bed staring at the faint glow of the up and down buttons on my hospital bed. I don't think that I had a single focused thought that night, but every time my phone lit up it was a gentle reminder that I was still alive, and safe and loved. I am eternally grateful and completely inspired by the outpouring of love I received from everyone.
In the morning, I decided to "get up" around 6:00 am. The nurse had come in throughout the night to check on me and she was there again. I went to the bathroom and was startled by my instantly flat(ish) stomach. (I said ish.) I was amazed how fast everything kind of goes back to normal. The doctor came around shortly after and talked about what I could expect to experience during the recovery period and to answer any questions that we had. Jamal and I had to make some decisions about what kind of testing we wanted, if any, in order to figure out what happened. We also hadn't thought about the fact that we had to decide what we were doing with the body.
Our midwife came by around 8:00 am to check in and ended up sitting and chatting for almost an hour while she held the baby. We explained to her all of the events that took place the night before and talked to her about what she thought we should do as we moved forward. She told us that genetic testing is extremely expensive and is not covered by insurance. In less than 50% of cases do they actually find anything of value and at that point they have to do more testing to figure out if it was a chronic problem or fluke. They also would have to do additional testing to see which one of us was carrying the genetic abnormality.
So, in our situation there were several options for testing:
Tier 1- Low Cost
Physical examination of the placenta, baby and umbilical cord to see if they can determine any physical abnormalities or reasons why this happened. They could possibly determine if the umbilical cord was defective or if there was damage for some reason.
Tier 2- Middle Cost
Full Blown Autopsy... we all know what that involves
Tier 3- High Cost
Genetic Testing and other extensive tests.
At this point, Jamal and I asked for two things 1. To speak to another doctor and 2. To talk to the hospital social worker (which I HIGHLY recommend no matter who you are and how much money you think you have.)
We spent all day waiting for these two people to come and see us, but it was very productive when they did. Because of the information we received from our midwife about the genetic testing, we were able to ask the doctor some specific, direct questions about how she felt the testing would benefit us in our situation. She agreed that very rarely does anyone find anything useful and the costs FAR outweigh the potential benefits. We chose to forgo the extensive tests. I felt more comfortable moving forward and spending our resources on preventing this from happening again in the future rather than looking back. She also said she didn't think an autopsy would benefit us in our situation.
Nice! We probably "made" several thousand dollars or more by demanding to speak with another doctor and actually following through and waiting all day for her to come. Talking to her had eliminated all of the high cost testing options and we didn't have to deal with the guilt of "does this decision mean we don't care about what happened to our child.... or more importantly will THEY think we don't care about our child if we opt out of the testing." We opted for only the physical examination.
The hospital social worker also had some really incredible information about our options for burying the baby. If it was up to me, I would have taken the baby with us and buried it on our own somewhere out in the wilderness where only Jamal and I would know. Yeah, they don't let you do that. It's not worth asking. Jamal told the social worker, "If the answer is no, that is fine but I want to know WHY the answer is no and what exact law prevents us from doing this." This poor women called pretty much every law enforcing body in the state of Wisconsin and we did not get anyone's permission. No one knew of the exact law but no one said we could do it. Someone from a funeral home had pick up the remains because transporting human remains is against the law in Milwaukee County. The state has different laws but the hospital and Milwaukee County have their own policies and procedures and laws.
So, in light of that information our only option was to work with a funeral home. The social workers alerted us to the fact that Krause's Funeral Home waives all fees for people in our situation. So of course we contacted them. They also told us that there are several cemeteries in the city of Milwaukee that donate plots to parents who have lost a child. One of those cemeteries is Lincoln Memorial where two of my lovely great grandmothers "Cookie Grandma" and "Grammie" are buried. We chose to bury the baby there. (The graveside service happened this morning 1/18/12 at 10:00 because it took that long to get everything situated, papers signed, body released from the hospital etc.) This was a big headache.
By the time all of this was figured out and settled it was about 4:00 in the afternoon on 1/4/12. We said a few more prayers and sat in the quiet of our hospital room for a few more minutes and held the baby. I didn't want to leave the baby there. I know that sounds strange but probably the most difficult moment was walking out of the hospital room and handing the baby over to the nurse. It was very difficult. Both of us didn't really feel like going home yet but we didn't know what to do so we went and sat at a restaurant, got a bowl of soup, and sat there and talked to one another for an hour or so.
We finally decided that we should go home and took showers and prepared to go to sleep. It was really nice to be home but also very strange. My closet was full of maternity clothing and I had birthing books scattered around the house.
As I went to bed I realized hormones are very funny things.... they don't always respond to what actually happened but they definitely respond to what should have happened. I literally couldn't sleep more than 1 1/2 hours at a time. I woke up like clockwork throughout the night. It makes perfect sense though, little babies nurse every two hours or more and my body was doing exactly what it was supposed to do. I had an intense urge to hug/hold something which my pillow benefited from greatly. Unfortunately all the maternal instinct was wasted on a 12x18 inch square of stuffing.
All I could think about that night was, "What do we do now?"
Do we wake up tomorrow and eat breakfast? Am I in shock? How am I feeling? Do I really think everything has settled in yet? Am I dealing with this like a should be? Should we just get up tomorrow and go for a walk? What if our neighbors see us? How do we explain everything? Am I willing and/or able to talk about it to them?
Maybe we should run away and start a new life where no one knows what happened...
Maybe I'll wake up pregnant and this will all be a dream.
1.17.2012
To Share or Not to Share: Part Two
At this point it was about 1:00 in the afternoon on 1/3/12. We had just checked ourselves into birthing suite L201 at Sinai in downtown Milwaukee. The nurse and CNA came in along with the resident and Dr. Kelly. They introduced themselves and kind of did the run down on what was going to happen. I do remember that they took a full medical history and I learned that it would take up to 12 hours for the medicine to build up in my system and up to 24 hours to actually deliver the baby.
After that they let me "get settled in my room." Getting settled in your room really means take off your clothes and have an IV put in. I literally had nothing with me. I was wearing dress pants and a blouse and I had my work badge on. There was not much to get settled. Jamal and I spent some quiet minutes together, which pretty much involved sitting cross legged facing each other on the hospital bed and repeating over and over again The Remover of Difficulties.
At 2:00 the doctor came back and asked if I was ready for the first dose of medication. Two pills had to be "placed" by the doctor against my cervix every four hours. After placement I had to lay flat on my back for an hour so they could absorb before I got up and walked around. The placement went very smooth and I started feeling the effects within 45 minutes or so. It started out as very light cramps but the cramps didn't let up... ever. As the hours passed they became progressively worse. We tried to watch a movie but I wasn't feeling well and needed to use the bathroom quite often.
My parents arrived at the hospital around 5:15 or 5:30. At that point I was having pretty severe cramps, which were making it difficult to engage in a conversation. It was really hard to see them upset and crying... especially my dad. I was very happy that they were there, but I also felt like I wanted everyone to just be silent. The doctors were supposed to come back at 6:00 for the second dose but no one showed up. The CNA said that someone was on their way so we just waited. We talked for awhile and around 6:30 I said maybe my parents should get going (I was nice about it). I was starting to feel a little nauseous and I felt like I was on the verge of something. Jamal walked them out to show them where my car was, they were going to drive it back to our house so that I wouldn't have to drive myself home when I was released from the hospital.
At around 7:00 a new doctor arrived and introduced himself. He would be covering the night shift and would be overseeing me from now until morning. He checked me and said that my cervix was still tightly closed and he placed the next two doses. Before he left he told me it would definitely be another 12 hours before anything significant happened. I laid on my back for about 20 minutes and talked to my brother on the phone. Laying on my back made the cramping completely unbearable at this point and I was feeling quite overwhelmed and extremely nauseous. I think my brother picked up on the fact that I wasn't doing very well at that point and said he would "let me go." I hung up the phone and told Jamal that I didn't care that I hadn't laid there for an hour... I had to get up and move around. I got up, walked to the bathroom, and immediately threw up and emptied all systems, if you know what I mean. :) I was shaking and told the nurse that she better get some kind of pain medication because I couldn't do this for 12 more hours. Jamal got me all cleaned up and back in bed. The CNA was there as well. As soon as I laid down I felt a huge gush as my water broke all over the bed. It was about 7:40 PM.
Immediately the constant cramping turned into true contractions. I would feel like everything was unbearable for about a minute and then have a minute where it was completely calm. As luck would have it I had just finished reading a book about natural childbirth that Jamal's sister gave me and I felt so good because, unlike the unnatural constant cramping from the drugs, I finally felt like I knew what was going on and I knew what to do. I was trying to focus on deep breathing and keeping my mind and jaw relaxed. Jamal was sitting next to me on the bed. I wanted him just about as close as possible so I could reach for him if I needed to, but he couldn't touch me. It felt too overwhelming. I just needed everything silent and calm. The nurse at returned at this point with my options for pain medication and while she was fiddling around with the IV machine and talking way too much, I suddenly had the urge to push. She dropped what she was doing and ran to get the equipment and doctor. Just about an hour before the doctor said it would be another 12 hours. It was about 8:10.
In the few minutes she and everyone but Jamal were gone from the room is when I actually pushed out the baby. I didn't plan it that way, it just happens when it happens. Pushing was the easiest part for me and FAR less painful than the contractions. They came back in the room and cut the umbilical cord and wrapped the baby up in a blanket handed it over to Jamal. The doctor felt and said that the placenta was right there and that he was going to take a forceps and pull it out. I told him I thought that I could push it out if he just gave me a chance to do it. I was surprised they were pushing it to move along so quickly when just an hour before he said it would take 12 more hours. It took several deep breaths and waited for another urge to push and after several more pushes it came out. The placenta was enormous which I didn't expect. Luckily it was completely intact. For those of you that might not know, sometimes if parts of the placenta are left behind it can cause bleeding and/or other problems.
They gently massaged on my stomach and made sure I wasn't hemorrhaging (losing mass quantities of blood.) Pushing on your stomach also stimulates contractions that will help control any bleeding you may have even if that bleeding isn't serious. They cleaned me all up and changed my gown and gave me new warm blankets. I was shaking like a leaf the entire time.
After everything was cleaned up they left us alone with the baby for about an hour. The three of us sat on the bed together and Jamal and I just cried. I was still very much in shock and nothing felt real. I kept asking Jamal when I was going to wake up. We said many many prayers while we sat there. I felt a strange mix of empowerment, shock, sadness, gratitude, excitement (probably endorphins) and intense devastation but most of all a very calm sense of love. This was the little being that took an early September swim with me in the frigid waters of the lake by my parents house, the one that I felt fluttering in my stomach, the one that I imagined when I stood in the cool fall wind and took deep breaths bursting with excitement for the time I would be able to hold it in my arms and it could feel the same wind on it's own skin, the little being that accompanied me wherever I went over the last 5 months.
We stared at our beautiful, silent baby.
After that they let me "get settled in my room." Getting settled in your room really means take off your clothes and have an IV put in. I literally had nothing with me. I was wearing dress pants and a blouse and I had my work badge on. There was not much to get settled. Jamal and I spent some quiet minutes together, which pretty much involved sitting cross legged facing each other on the hospital bed and repeating over and over again The Remover of Difficulties.
At 2:00 the doctor came back and asked if I was ready for the first dose of medication. Two pills had to be "placed" by the doctor against my cervix every four hours. After placement I had to lay flat on my back for an hour so they could absorb before I got up and walked around. The placement went very smooth and I started feeling the effects within 45 minutes or so. It started out as very light cramps but the cramps didn't let up... ever. As the hours passed they became progressively worse. We tried to watch a movie but I wasn't feeling well and needed to use the bathroom quite often.
My parents arrived at the hospital around 5:15 or 5:30. At that point I was having pretty severe cramps, which were making it difficult to engage in a conversation. It was really hard to see them upset and crying... especially my dad. I was very happy that they were there, but I also felt like I wanted everyone to just be silent. The doctors were supposed to come back at 6:00 for the second dose but no one showed up. The CNA said that someone was on their way so we just waited. We talked for awhile and around 6:30 I said maybe my parents should get going (I was nice about it). I was starting to feel a little nauseous and I felt like I was on the verge of something. Jamal walked them out to show them where my car was, they were going to drive it back to our house so that I wouldn't have to drive myself home when I was released from the hospital.
At around 7:00 a new doctor arrived and introduced himself. He would be covering the night shift and would be overseeing me from now until morning. He checked me and said that my cervix was still tightly closed and he placed the next two doses. Before he left he told me it would definitely be another 12 hours before anything significant happened. I laid on my back for about 20 minutes and talked to my brother on the phone. Laying on my back made the cramping completely unbearable at this point and I was feeling quite overwhelmed and extremely nauseous. I think my brother picked up on the fact that I wasn't doing very well at that point and said he would "let me go." I hung up the phone and told Jamal that I didn't care that I hadn't laid there for an hour... I had to get up and move around. I got up, walked to the bathroom, and immediately threw up and emptied all systems, if you know what I mean. :) I was shaking and told the nurse that she better get some kind of pain medication because I couldn't do this for 12 more hours. Jamal got me all cleaned up and back in bed. The CNA was there as well. As soon as I laid down I felt a huge gush as my water broke all over the bed. It was about 7:40 PM.
Immediately the constant cramping turned into true contractions. I would feel like everything was unbearable for about a minute and then have a minute where it was completely calm. As luck would have it I had just finished reading a book about natural childbirth that Jamal's sister gave me and I felt so good because, unlike the unnatural constant cramping from the drugs, I finally felt like I knew what was going on and I knew what to do. I was trying to focus on deep breathing and keeping my mind and jaw relaxed. Jamal was sitting next to me on the bed. I wanted him just about as close as possible so I could reach for him if I needed to, but he couldn't touch me. It felt too overwhelming. I just needed everything silent and calm. The nurse at returned at this point with my options for pain medication and while she was fiddling around with the IV machine and talking way too much, I suddenly had the urge to push. She dropped what she was doing and ran to get the equipment and doctor. Just about an hour before the doctor said it would be another 12 hours. It was about 8:10.
In the few minutes she and everyone but Jamal were gone from the room is when I actually pushed out the baby. I didn't plan it that way, it just happens when it happens. Pushing was the easiest part for me and FAR less painful than the contractions. They came back in the room and cut the umbilical cord and wrapped the baby up in a blanket handed it over to Jamal. The doctor felt and said that the placenta was right there and that he was going to take a forceps and pull it out. I told him I thought that I could push it out if he just gave me a chance to do it. I was surprised they were pushing it to move along so quickly when just an hour before he said it would take 12 more hours. It took several deep breaths and waited for another urge to push and after several more pushes it came out. The placenta was enormous which I didn't expect. Luckily it was completely intact. For those of you that might not know, sometimes if parts of the placenta are left behind it can cause bleeding and/or other problems.
They gently massaged on my stomach and made sure I wasn't hemorrhaging (losing mass quantities of blood.) Pushing on your stomach also stimulates contractions that will help control any bleeding you may have even if that bleeding isn't serious. They cleaned me all up and changed my gown and gave me new warm blankets. I was shaking like a leaf the entire time.
After everything was cleaned up they left us alone with the baby for about an hour. The three of us sat on the bed together and Jamal and I just cried. I was still very much in shock and nothing felt real. I kept asking Jamal when I was going to wake up. We said many many prayers while we sat there. I felt a strange mix of empowerment, shock, sadness, gratitude, excitement (probably endorphins) and intense devastation but most of all a very calm sense of love. This was the little being that took an early September swim with me in the frigid waters of the lake by my parents house, the one that I felt fluttering in my stomach, the one that I imagined when I stood in the cool fall wind and took deep breaths bursting with excitement for the time I would be able to hold it in my arms and it could feel the same wind on it's own skin, the little being that accompanied me wherever I went over the last 5 months.
We stared at our beautiful, silent baby.
1.16.2012
To Share or Not to Share.... Part 1
I decided to share our story because I think far too often in our culture these types of stories are not shared.
If you become uncomfortable when reading the word uterus.... don't read any further. I have tried to be as
objective as possible so hopefully nothing you find here offensive. It is not meant to be.
We all have bodies, sometimes bodies do interesting things and some day they will all turn into dust.
__________________________________________________________________________
For those of you that know us well, this is the second pregnancy loss that we have experienced. The first loss was 1 1/2 years after we were married and happened at a time that we were traveling in Israel. I was 22 years old and experienced the kind of crushing grief that is hard to explain to other people. The circumstances surrounding our miscarriage and the hospital stay was traumatic, to say the very least. I walked around angry and bitter for two years, felt completely inadequate and very vulnerable. I had difficulty reaching out to anyone except for the unfortunate few that I hand selected to bear the majority of my pain and suffering. Sorry friends. The saying, "Time heals all wounds" is very true. Though thinking back on my experience still brings tears to my eyes, I have definitely moved beyond the feelings that I carried around so long.
I realized that my lack of desire and fear to share our experiences with other people left our lives wide open to speculation that our lack of children was due to some "serious cause" other than the simple fact that we were not trying to have children. I am talking about infertility (shhhh). It became evident very quickly that people didn't understand why we would choose to wait so long after marriage to begin a family. I got a lot of fertility tips and encouragement from people which, at the time, felt like bee stings all over my ego. I could have spit in peoples faces but I'm a lady, you know. I now recognize that they were people who were trying to express loving concern for our situation... but it took me awhile.
After finishing school, buying a house and working for a year or so, we decided to fulfill the sole aim and desire of our married life and start a family. We started "trying" in June 2011 (I use that term loosely because for some that means a strict schedule or regime- not the case for us) and on Sept 19th, 2011 we found out I was 4 weeks pregnant. I have never been so happy in my life.
I chose a midwife for all of our prenatal care. She was a women that I fell in love with the first moment I met her and burst into tears, she is the kind of women that makes you feel like you can do anything and is very calm and knowledgeable. Luckily the office that she practices out of is only 7 blocks down the street from my office so I joked with my boss that when I did go into labor she could just plop me in a wagon and push me down the street. There is something about that image that I find hysterical for some reason.
Anyway, like a good pregnant woman I visited my midwife every 4 weeks. At 10 weeks we decided to have an ultrasound just to make sure everything was progressing as it should and kind of ease the anxiety we were having so we went over to the hospital. The results from the ultrasound and fetal specialist was that everything was perfect and there were no concerns. Such a wonderful feeling. Week 12 or so, I was back at my midwifes office and she could pick up a beautiful heartbeat on her office doppler thing. We decided to tell everyone about the pregnancy at that point because there was only a "3% chance of miscarriage after you hear a healthy heartbeat."
Week 15-16 I was back in the midwifes office and again she picked up a beautiful heartbeat. I had started experiencing the round ligament pains while everything in my belly was stretch, stretch, stretching to accommodate the little one. Everything seemed just as it should.
Week 19-20 On January 3rd, I got up for work and felt great. Jamal and I talked that morning and decided that since everything was going so well and the baby was fine, I would go to the appointment on my own. At 10:00 I was called into my midwives office and we talked for awhile and she asked if I wanted to listen for the heart beat. I of course did, so she got out her machine and started rolling it all over my belly..... nothing..... nothing.... nothing.... panic. I had my eyes closed and was trying really hard to listen for anything. I opened my eyes to see her standing there looking completely terrified. She was trying to act calm but she told me that I needed to get my things and go sit in her personal office. She talked to the OB Gyn that oversees the clinic and they agreed that I needed to go directly to the hospital for an emergency ultrasound. I called Jamal's cell phone, work cell phone and desk phone on repeat maybe 6 times... no answer.
I headed over to the radiology department and tried Jamal one last time. Finally he answered and I let him know where I was and what was happening. He immediately left work while I went in for a final ultrasound. During the ultrasound the technician wouldn't tell me anything. I just laid on the table praying that they would find the baby was completely healthy and fine. I returned to my midwives office to await the results and Jamal met me there. We sat in the waiting area for what felt like forever until my midwives nurse called me into her personal office. My midwife just grabbed me and shook her head with tears in her eyes. We knew what that meant.
Evidently in that last 4 weeks sometime between week 15-19 the baby had stopped developing. They weren't sure exactly when. Normally when something like this happens you have three options; 1. wait until your body recognizes it and labor begins on it's own, 2. Chemically induce labor or, 3. D & C, a surgery were they either scrape or vacuum extract the contents of your uterus.
Unfortunately we did not know when the baby passed on and I was still experiencing the full spectrum of "pregnancy symptoms." My body clearly hadn't recognized that something was wrong and I could have been carrying around a dead baby in my stomach for up to 4 weeks. Not the most healthy thing to do. Waiting was no longer a safe option due to potential infection risks. So, my choices were limited to chemical induction or surgery. In consultation with the midwife, we chose chemical induction which we agreed (between the two options) has the lowest risk of uterine rupture or scarring that could potentially interfere with or prevent future pregnancies.
She got on the phone again and spoke with the OB Gyn who would oversee the chemical induction. Jamal and I were supposed to go over to the hospital and meet her.... or at least that is what I thought. I don't really know what I was thinking at this point because I am pretty certain I was in shock. We had handwritten notes. Direct admit, L201, notify Dr. Kelly immediately. I thought L201 would be a conference room (don't ask me why) so I completely burst into tears when I walked into L201 to find a complete birthing unit with a bed and bathroom. I realized what was happening at that moment. I had chosen not only to admit myself to the hospital, but I was going to have to push a baby out of me.
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