Pregnancy Loss

June 15th would've been my due date with baby #3.  I had a 'missed miscarriage' in December.  

I knew I was pregnant on day one.  My morning sickness, in typical fashion, began on the first day of the 6th week.  I had my first prenatal appointment and ultrasound at 7 weeks and saw the babies heartbeat.    

For Thanksgiving weekend, we went to visit my hubby's BFF and his family in Santa Fe, NM.  The weekend was pleasant, and I was finally starting to feel better.  My morning sickness was not as bad as it was with my first two pregnancies.  I thought I was getting away with something.  I felt lucky, and thankful.

I had some very minor spotting, but not anything major.  I didn't fall.  I wasn't cramping and I didn't notice anything different.  Except that I was feeling better than I had with my other 2 pregnancies.

My doctors appointment was on my son's 2nd birthday, Monday November 28th.  It was an evening appointment, so the OB office was closed.  The midwife was nice, I had seen her once before.  She did another ultrasound since I was having some spotting.  She didn't find a heartbeat, and the baby stopped growing around 8 weeks 6 days.

I was so stunned.  I was alone.  Jeff called me on the cell to be sure everything was ok, as the appt. was taking a long time.  I could barely speak the words to him. 

We had a birthday dinner for Spencer and a cake.  

The next day, as the midwife instructed, I called to schedule a D&C.  If my body had expelled the 'contents of the pregnancy' on its own, I would have had a natural miscarriage.  But, since my body wasn't handling things on its own, I was encouraged to have surgical intervention.  I also could not bear the idea of having a dead baby inside of me.  There was a major miscommunication with the office staff and the surgical scheduler.  It took until Thursday for someone to call me back.  That was the longest 3 days E.V.E.R.  I spent the whole time crying and the most sad I have ever felt.  I was scheduled for pre-op Thursday afternoon, and surgery first things Friday morning.  

Since it was such short notice, we didn't have any coverage for the kids.  So, Jeff dropped me off for surgery and left with the kids.  The hospital staff and surgeon were amazing.  So sensitive and supportive.   I was under general anesthesia, so I don't have any memory of the procedure.  

It was a difficult recovery.  Both emotionally and physically.  There was a point where I knew that if didn't get off the couch RIGHT THEN, that I was going to slip into a major depression.  Having to put away the maternity clothes that I had just taken out of the garage and washed.  Having to cancel my baby center subscription.  Getting my period back.  Putting aside the idea that our little house was soon going to be welcoming a baby.  But mostly coming to terms with not being pregnant any more.  Once day I was happily expecting my 3rd baby, and the next day my baby was dead and I wasn't pregnant. Slowly, we shared the news with our friends and family.  I had to tell all of my Stroller Strides Mama's.  I even had to tell some people that I wasn't expecting (friends from the park, or playgroups).  

Sharing was an interesting experience.  I am not a private or secretive person.  But, sharing something so deeply personal was beyond difficult.  For some people it seemed harder for them to hear, than it was for me to talk about.  For a few people, I was a way to bond over shared experiences.  And for most they were very supportive.       

It has been 6 months, and I feel better, almost recovered.  I don't know if I can ever go through that again, but I am trying to move on.

Day 1, third time around

I wrote this post on the day I discovered I was pregnant for the third time (approx. Aug 2011).  I was so nervous about the positive test result that I made myself sick.  I wanted to capture my feelings that day so that I could remember them.  Here they are:

Today is day 28.  For those who know about menstrual cycles and luteal phases and pregnancy tracking you will know what I mean.

I didn't get my period today.  I was bitchy and short according to my loving husband.

What I got instead is that gross taste in my mouth--the one that tastes like you have dry mouth combined with bad breath.  About a week ago I also got heartburn, and it hasn't let up.  I haven't had heartburn like this since I was pregnant.  Ouch!  I also woke up in the middle of the night last night, sat straight up in bed and walked to the kitchen for a drink of water and a snack.  Odd.

So, this morning, when I still didn't have any cramps or any period symptoms (discharge, purging of the digestive system, etc.), I took a pregnancy test.  

And it was positive.  Holy shit.  

Getting back on my bike

I am negligent.  I have been thinking of blogging.  Feeling guilty about it.  Writing down topics to discuss and share.  Yet, in the last 6 months so much has happened that I want to share.  Where do I begin?

I guess the first place to begin is the pregnancy.  And then the pregnancy loss.  The depression.  The weight gain.  The recovery.  And now the aftermath.

I will start there.

Language Development

For a long while I have been anxious about Spencer's 'slow' use of language.  He began saying a few words--Mama, Dada, cock-a-doodle-doo within the normal range of time.  However, after that he really didn't say much beyond screeching and yelling, pointing and gesturing. Perhaps we always spoke for him.  Perhaps he felt confident that his intention was coming across without needing to speak the words, or perhaps he just didnt want to.

Most important is the fact that he can very clearly communicate his needs and wants.  He signs about 20 things (milk, eat, more, water, bath, dog, bird, all done, skeleton...you get the idea), he pats or points to the things he wants, and he most often will insist you take his hand while he shows you what he wants or needs.  When he is hurt he points to the area that was damaged while whaling and puckering up his lips.

A good friend of mine is going through the cluster fuck of trying to enroll her 2 1/2 year old son in Speech Therapy.  Apparently some insurance companies will only cover it if your child has a greater than 50% deficiency in language development for their age.  And the state funded programs are impacted and few and far between.  Saying nothing of the fact that for many kids who do not attain help, their abilities will only get worse as time moves on.  Taking them farther and farther away from the 'normal' range.  Grrrr!  So watching her go through the ringer was not something I wanted to experience.

Spencer will be 2 years old in November so we have a little while before we really need to worry. Apparently language development really kicks off, for those who were slow to acquire it, at around 22-28 months.  And while I know I shouldn't, I am stuck comparing him to Elliott.  Elliott could talk in full sentences by now and was always being praised for his vast spoken abilities...now if he would only focus on being quiet!

Last week, to my great relief, Spencer started saying some words and mimicking our words. He has a long way to go, since most of the words aren't very clear and most of them are the names of the cars from Cars: The Movie and Cars 2.  But, phew!  I am so excited to enter this new stage of development with him.

The time crunch

My 37th Birthday is just around the corner, and I am starting to feel pressured for time.  And by time, I mean reproductive time.  We are always pushing the clock around here.  Go, go, go.

My hubby and I decided that a 3rd child was not in our cards right now.  And, I felt at peace with that decision for a while.  I even went so far as to give away all of my newborn clothes (with the caveat that they return them to me).  It felt liberating.  I felt like a giant weight was lifted of my shoulders.  I felt happy.  I felt at peace.

That lasted for a several months.  Now I am longing again to expand our family.  My reasons in favor are numerous.  I feel like I am capable of managing another child.  Every day I become more patient, and efficient and loving.  I love watching the kids grow and explore their worlds.  I get an endless amount of joy and satisfaction from watching the boys play together, work out their battles and conflicts for space and attention, and I love the relationship they are building with one another.  I also feel a small longing for a girl.  I can not imagine how it would change the way I parent or love a child, but I am curious to know.

I am also becoming more aware of the fleeting nature of my childrens youth.  They grow so quickly, and change in the blink of an eye.  I love being around toddlers.  They are so loving and energetic and flexible!  They accept guidance and redirection.  They rarely throw tantrums when given the proper options and time to make a decision.  With a 4 year old and a 20 month old-my toddlers days are coming to an end.  My older son will be in school next year and my younger son will be in preschool a couple of mornings a week. And, I can feel the stress associated with this end.  I do not want this time period to come to a close.

On the other side of the spectrum I do not long, in the slightest of ways, to be pregnant again.  I was sick for the first trimester, plus.  I was depressed for the second trimester and while I was happy and thrilled the third trimester - I was also exhausted!  Couple that with parenting 2 small kids and I wonder if another pregnancy will break me.  37 years old is not young any more.  In terms of child bearing, it is considered advanced maternal age.  There is more lab work, more tests to worry over, and more midwife care and worries.  There is also far less energy than, say, when I was 27!

That takes me to the sleep factor.  Oh, how I long for the ability to sleep and wake on my own schedule!  I am not sure why this matters so much now.  When I worked I woke on someone else's schedule.  I have always been an early riser and I never was a late/long sleeper.  But, there is something about calling your own shots and not waking to the sound of crying that only you or your breast can soothe.  Then, there is the middle of the night waking that comes with a new babe.

The pain and recovery of the pregnancy and the birth.  Ouch.  The weight loss, the fitness level to be regained, the endless backaches, and the carrying and lifting of the babe for the first year plus.  There is a physicality to another child that scares me.  Is my body strong enough to endure that first year again!?!?!

But, even while looking over the pro's and con's, and notice there is nothing about my husband's feelings or desires listed here!  I still feel like our family is incomplete.  Try as I might...my body is telling my mind to suck it up!  I am very logical and this is tearing me up inside.  The illogical (yet totally base) nature of physical desire mixed with reason and sensibility just doesn't add up.