Update

Shortly after my last post, CJ and I discovered something. This information very quickly turned me into a ball of anxiety, yet I was terrified to unfurl. I only spoke to the people closest to me and limited conversations at that. I was terrified history would repeat itself.

CJ and I had been discussing the possibility of trying for another baby, but before we had the chance to actually reach a decision, we found I was pregnant. It was difficult to be excited. CJ even confessed to me he was afraid to get attached.

I didn’t post anything here for a long time because this was all I wanted to talk about. But heaven forbid something bad should happen again.

Even now, at 28 weeks, I have been hesitant to share. This has been my most difficult pregnancy by far and the beginning was riddled with problems and scares.

My dating ultrasound discovered two gestational sacs. I had to return two weeks later to verify the viability of either. Only one had a heartbeat. Because I experienced some bleeding at the loss of the other sac, more ultrasounds were necessary to make sure the other baby was fine.

Now I agonizingly waited for that magical 12 week mark when women feel more “safe.” That feeling never arrived for me. I battled horrible morning sickness, weight loss, and worry. Eventually, the morning sickness slowed down and the weight loss plateaued, but I still see the return of my breakfast at least once per week.

At my anatomical ultrasound, it was discovered that I had what is called a marginal cord insertion. Basically, because this began as a twin pregnancy and that wasn’t resolved properly, this baby’s umbilical cord is not located where it should be on the placenta. This causes the placenta to work harder than normal – therefore, the placenta may not survive the full length of the pregnancy. This means more ultrasounds. We have to constantly watch the weight of the baby to make sure it’s still getting the proper amount of nutrition. Should the baby drop below the 10th percentile in estimated weight, it will then be determined the baby would be better out than in.

I have another ultrasound next week, but for now I’m not overly concerned about it. Baby moves quite a bit and it’s estimated weight would have to tank a lot from last measurement to reach the danger zone. However, I cannot help but be nervous before every scan, every doctor visit. All I want is for this baby to be healthy. As sick as I have been, I sincerely hope this little one stays put until its Christmas Eve due date. Besides having had to already bury a child, I can think of nothing more terrifying than having to sit beside this little one in the NICU because it simply wasn’t ready to join the world yet.

But here it is. The little nugget who needs all our love and prayers. The one I’m going to try to be just a little bit braver for.  🙂

Baby B

Little Nugget

Wish us luck!

PS…I will try to post more regularly again in the hopes this will also help my mental state. Thanks for sticking with me.

 

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Today

I have been having a difficult time the past few days.

Of the [quite a few] women I know who have recently had a baby, almost all of them have returned to work. Their Facebooks have been full of baby pictures and messages of regret in having to leave their child in order to return to work.

These messages upset me. I mean, at least they have a baby to leave. I don’t have my baby at all. But even that thought right there – the one that came unbidden – makes me feel horrible. Am I being harsh and unjust to these other mothers when they are just bragging about their beautiful new babies? And does this mean I am ungrateful for what I already have?

Am I cherishing my other children less because I cannot cherish their sibling enough? I find myself torn sometimes in moments of joy because I think about the one who will never participate in these moments with us. Will that always be the case? I know they say things will get better with time, but as I have no experience with the death of a close loved one, I just can’t help but feel that I am forever altered.

As my OCD has been exacerbated in these stressful and painful last few months, I find myself withdrawing from things I do want to do/participate in as an effort to avoid my triggers. CJ and I keep talking about things we would like to do once I reach what we refer to as my “baseline,” but I’m worried that may not be the same anymore. And I don’t know how to cope with that. I don’t want to become a recluse who stops living their life and not doing things they enjoy. I want to feel the desire to play, write, even just be helpful around the house.

Before, my bad days were few and far between. Now, as there have been so many gathered together, it’s hard to see that it won’t always be like this. It’s difficult sometimes to convince myself to continue pushing through. But I am a strong woman. I am intelligent and occasionally, kind of funny. I will try my best to keep smiling until the day where it’s not pretend anymore. Starting today.

Ashley

“Sorry, guys.”

A seemingly innocent sentence. But because of these words, I will remember a woman named Ashley forever. I knew her less than thirty minutes, but this woman changed my life.

CJ and I were expecting another baby, due in October, and we were over the moon about growing our family. MJ, being the only one who really understood, was ecstatic about another sibling.

Over the weekend, I experienced some spotting which in itself is not overly concerning, but I felt something was wrong. I thought it was mostly in my head considering a woman I know had gone through something similar quite recently.

CJ and my sister tried to keep me calm, maintaining everything was just fine. Even the doctor I saw this morning tried to convince me everything was fine. She tried to reassure me that although she couldn’t hear a heartbeat, she was positive she heard movement, so she sent me for an ultrasound just in case.

Enter poor, poor Ashley. I will always feel awful for her. The poor girl must have drawn the short straw to do my ultrasound today. The techs must have all know what was a possible outcome and I’m sure no one wanted me as a patient.

Well, Ashley found what we all hoped wouldn’t be true. There was no heartbeat. The only thing she could say was “sorry, guys” and then she made the quickest exit she possibly could.

As CJ and I waited for the specialist to talk us through our next steps, one of the things I couldn’t help but think was how awful I felt for Ashley. First, because who wants to have to deliver news like that ever, and second, because I will always remember her as the woman who told me my baby was dead and remember her for nothing else. And I feel sorry for that.

So today I joined one of the clubs no one ever thinks they will be a part of until they are. I am a woman who has lost a child through miscarriage.

No matter how many times I think that sentence or read it written here, it just doesn’t seem real. I don’t know if it ever will.

The delays in posting are easily explained by the fact that the end of this pregnancy has gotten quite difficult. Finishing up a 24 hour test today then have to have another test at the hospital tomorrow. There just has not been a lot of time to do these little things I enjoy while taking care of all of this.

Everything seems to be fine with baby though, so no need to worry. I just hope to be able to return to writing soon, even in the small capacity that will be available to me once the baby arrives.

Q is old enough now to have baby food (which I make myself). Over the past few days of feeding her, I have noticed something. Every time I hold the spoon out to Q’s mouth, I am opening mine as well. Even when I am aware that I have done it once or twice, I still catch myself doing it again multiple times during each feeding. I wonder if I ever did this with MJ. Lol

CJ is My Hero

In the month and one half that the new baby has been home, she has only slept through the night once. After three terrible nights this week, the lack of sleep really hit me. Today was full of headaches, nausea, and all things related to sleep deprivation. CJ was my hero though. He took care of dinner for everyone and even offered to watch the kids so I could take a bath. I mean a real bath; like warm water, bubbles, soft music, candlelight, just soak and relax bath. It was glorious. I just might have the best husband in the world 🙂