Sometimes

I think about writing again

Kindergarten Looms

My baby boy is starting kindergarten in September.  I won't lie.  It scares me.  He's a sweet, spontaneous boy and affectionate perhaps to a fault.  His heart is so tender.  I don't want him to toughen up.  To be compared to others.  I don't want him to realize he's not the fastest and smartest kid in the world.  I don't want him to conform.

My Boy.  He throws his arms around me, holds my hand, and tells me that he loves me.  He tells me when I complain that I'm too old for something that "you're not old mom.  Those things that look like lines on your face are just your details"  He declares his love for his friends to them in words and actions.  He's a hugger, a kisser and an "I love you"-er.

I don't want him to change.  I worry that he's going to be chewed up and spit out.  Can I just hit pause on his life and keep him with me forever? 

Baby Amy

I have been meaning to blog for quite some time.  As it turns out, my hands have been busy and my arms have been full.  You see, I have a beautiful baby girl!

I went into labor late on the evening of March 19.  I waited a bit and then woke my husband.  Contractions were strong and regular right from the start.  I called my mom around midnight and arranged to drop the Boy off.  We arrived at St Boniface hospital around 130 AM and had to wait a little while to be triaged.  By this time I was pretty uncomfortable.  At triage I was 4-5 cm dilated.  It didn't take long for me to be admitted to LDRP where I was 6-7 cm.  I asked for an epidural at this point and was informed that my water sac was bulging and that if I sat up for an epidural chances were good it would break and baby would come quickly and naturally.  We decided to try for it anyway and it was successful.  Just as with the Boy, the epidural only partly took reducing my pain to a tolerable level.  I'm pretty sure my scoliosis interferes with the effectiveness of the epidural.  That's fine by me.. I like to be actively involved in my labor as long as the pain is manageable.  By just before 6 AM the doctor told me I was fully dilated except for an "anterior lip" on the cervix and that I should start pushing.  By 0609 Amy was born!  They placed her on me and told me to look.  I said "Oh, a boy!" and they told me to look again!  I guess I assumed I was having another boy without really realizing it.  She opened her big eyes and looked around quietly.  She didn't cry at all, just worked her hands and looked around.  They gave her a little oxygen and stimulated her and she came around nicely.

The day before she came, the Boy said "If it's a girl I shall call her Cupcake!"  My mom had a cupcake with a pink candle waiting for him when he woke that morning to celebrate Amy's birthday.  He is the proudest big brother.  He calls her "Amy Jennifer Cupcake Sparkle Sprinkles Misir"  Everything beautiful he can think of.

We are so blessed.

Grandpa

On March 5 my dear Grandpa left us.  He had been feeling generally unwell for a few months but declined very suddenly in the last 2 weeks of his life.  He was admitted to the hospital that I work in and I carried out the role of his health care proxy that he had requested of me about 6 years ago.  It was an honor to do that for him.  I spoke to doctors and nurses and made decisions on his behalf.  It was a pretty easy assignment in that all 5 of his kids knew his wishes and were on the same page as far as goals of care went. 

Not once was there an argument between the kids.  It was beautiful to see them surround their Dad's hospital bed and love and support each other.  Little expressions of affection flowed openly between them.  Daily visits, staying the night, bringing food and coffee, holding hands and many other demonstrations of love.  Grandma slipped her hand into Grandpa's so that it appeared he was holding her hand in his last hours.  Music, laughter, conversations surrounded my Grandpa as he slipped away.  A never-ending family gathering in his honor.

As Grandpa's breathing became more labored by the day and then the hour, family members ranging from siblings to grandkids dropped in to say goodbye.  Until the day before he left he had moments of alertness, recognizing and making eye contact with all who came.  Although unable to speak he would pucker his lips for a kiss and try to say "I love you" one last time.  Those are the last words I got from my Grandfather.  He loved me.

Words I had heard all my life.  No matter the circumstance.  No matter the decisions I was making.  No matter what.  Grandpa loved me.  I never once escaped from him without a hug and a kiss.  I mattered to him.  And so did everyone else.  Grandpa was always genuinely happy to see me and anyone I brought with me.  He always said "welcome here" when I came over and that welcome carried to anyone I was with.  Never a judgement or exclusion.

I never knew him in his working days but I have heard stories of his incredible work ethic, patience, and integrity.  I believe every word of it.  That's how he lived his life.  He knew Who he served and did so with unwavering resolve.  He loved to debate ethics and politics and thought deeply about all sorts of matters.

He loved his wife beyond compare.  Sometimes I feel sorry for my Husband, having such a model for me to base my expectations on!  He was gentle and tender.  He told her he loved her every day.  Always dropped her off before parking the car and always picked her up.  Never did I hear an unkind word.  He spoiled her with affection and did chores around the house.  Many times I witnessed him look at her completely smitten.  A woman should be so lucky.

I got to know my Grandpa.  I got to give back to him a little before he died.  Just a little bit.  For a man who gave me so much.  A grand-daughter should be so lucky.

I love you Grandpa.  You are missed.

Mixed Bag of Emotion

I'm not quite sure where to start today.  A little too much going on.

First off, this is my last week before maternity leave!  That's totally crazy.  I am taking some holiday time so that my actual start date is on my due date of March 24.  Three days of work this week and I'm done.  For an entire year.  I can't even wrap my head around it.

Add to it, my Grandpa's birthday is on March 24.  He is to turn 83 this year.  He is the middle of 7 siblings.  Each of his siblings have died, in turn, at the age of 83 years.  I am very sure that he will fall short of the 83 year mark.  As I write he lays in a hospital bed, surrounded constantly by loving family.  It's only right for the man who exemplifies "unconditional love" be surrounded and carried by those he gave to during his life.  For the most part he seems comfortable though dying is such a difficult process.  Not only on the one leaving but also on the family.  It's a hard and tiring journey.  As my mom and her sister have requested "pray for a gentle release into the arms of His Good Shepherd, whom he has trusted so unfailingly all his life."

To top things off, this week I remember my wee babies.  Our son and our daughter, too beautiful for our cruel world.  They died 1 year ago at 18 weeks gestation.  We have an amazing memory box that the hospital staff put together for us.  Photos, outfits, blankets and more.  They were so perfect and full of potential.  My arms, my heart, and mind miss the babies I never got to watch grow up.  I wonder who they would have become and what our family would have looked like.  It doesn't hurt like it did a year ago when my world was flipped upside down and inside out and I remember them with fondness and longing.  I would not have expected to be "full term" pregnant with their sibling one year later.  I am blessed.

Strength for the week.  For the day.

Best and Worst 2012

I can wrap up the best and worst parts of last year in a nutshell.  It may not be deep and reflective, but 2012 made it quite easy to be decisive about such things.  So without further ado, the best and worst:

Worst:
Losing my wee son and daughter at 18 weeks of pregnancy and the aftermath thereof

Best:
Spending almost an entire month in another country, another continent.  Who am I kidding?  Our Berlin vacation is probably one of my LIFE highlights.  I shall return.

There you have it.  Cheers to 2013!

Approaching Christmas

Christmas is around the corner.  Gifts are bought (still need to be wrapped).  I have a little bit of baking left to do and some house cleaning.  I'm on holidays now until the end of next week.  So exciting!  I love having a 4 year old around at Christmas time.  It brings the magic to our home.

The other morning the Husband and I were talking.  Theoretically we should have 2 four month old babies as part of our family this year.  It's not good or bad... just different than we expected.  We definitely miss them and wonder what our lives would have been like with twins.  It's strange to think that if we had brought them home this little life flourishing inside of me now would be non-existant.

I really should take a few photos of Christmassy things in my house to add to my blog.  Maybe later...

22 weeks and counting

Somewhere along the way I lost my zest for writing.  The first 18 weeks of my pregnancy I held my breath and watched and waited to lose this baby.  It's a battle with anxiety that I wasn't quite expecting.  I'm a little more uptight this time around.  Natural but still surprised me.  Otherwise I have felt great!  Lots of energy and not sick at all. 

I took this photo earlier this week.  This baby is active and, according to the 4 fetal assessments so far, appears perfectly healthy.  And no, we're not finding out gender.  It's so common these days that people seem quite surprised!  For twins we were planning to.  They take a whole lot more planning for.  But one baby is different for me.  We can't wait to be surprised!  Our boy has named it "Adam" though when he realized a girl would play with girl toys instead of his farm stuff (perhaps) he did ask God to turn his baby brother into a sister.

On we go.  Over the half way hump.

Due date

Today is a special day. It's my due date. I have been mindful of the twins all day. Not in a tragic sort of way, but remembering them and my pregnancy with fondness. How I wish those kids would have joined our family here!  I wonder what they would look like. If they would be in NICU. Or if I'd be getting any sleep. It's kind of hard to fathom what life would be like. I miss them.

In reality they would have been born weeks ago. For that reason I didn't put too much emphasis on this, my due date. I did, however, turn the soil and water the trees we got in memory of them and was mindful of the little people they represented. I walked around the mall and looked at newborn clothes and wished I could have dressed them.  I snuggled my Boy a little more than usual.

But I also did something exciting!  My husband and I attended the fertility clinic for an ultrasound and we got to see our 7 week old baby's heart ticking away!  And that did wonders to turn our focus from death to life. How very blessed we are!

FET round 1

I've been a bit quiet about the direction of things as far as attempting to expand the family goes.  A week and a half ago we had a frozen embryo transfer done.  Yesterday I learned that this one didn't take.  We will give it another go before the lab shuts down for the summer.

I'm feeling okay with it.  I really didn't think this would be the one, for multiple reasons.  Doing a frozen embryo transfer was a walk in the park compared to fresh!  They timed it with my natural cycle and every step was easy.  Except that it didn't take.

Fingers crossed for next month!

Moving Ahead

I still think of my babies every day.  Sometimes it's a memory of them moving inside of me.  Sometimes it's the tattoo that looks back at me in the mirror.  And sometimes its a loving gesture or comment from a friend that reminds me that they care.

We returned to the fertility clinic a few weeks ago where they determined I should have further testing.  The time frame for the test I needed is one to three months.  I got in the first month.  Although it was much more painful than I expected or remembered from last time I had it done, the results were super!  No further surgery required and the green light to go ahead and give it another go!

Now I just have to put in some time before things are in order to move forward.  Our hopes are high!

2 Months

It has been two months since I went on the roller coaster ride that led to the early delivery of my twins.  Two months since I held them for the first and only time.

I've gotta say, I think I'm doing well.  I feel generally happy and optimistic.  I still think of the babies often and got a pretty tattoo on my right shoulder to be a constant, permanent reminder for me.

We went back to the fertility clinic to talk about trying again.  I won't lie - I'm eager to try again!  I was hoping we would get the green light right away but it turns out we need to do some further testing and perhaps undergo another surgery before forging ahead.  I was disappointed initially but at the same time I understand the approach from a medical standpoint.  I can't help but hope it happens on our own before we move ahead at the clinic.  What a gift that would be!  That being said, I don't think that "trying" is a great mindset for us yet and so we are just carrying on as usual and whatever happens, happens.

6 Weeks Postpartum

Today I had my routine post-partum checkup. I had a list of questions for the doctor.

Are the autopsy reports back?

- Somehow somewhere there must have been a miscommunication. No autopsy was done, only measurements and all of those seemed normal although both babies measured small for dates. My doctor was going to check if the bodies were still at the hospital to see if autopsy could still be undertaken but it's unlikely. This is very frustrating for me as we had had serious concerns about our baby girl early in the pregnancy.

Were the babies alive at birth?

- No. The birth process is usually too traumatic for such little ones, mine included. This gives me peace of mind because sometimes at night when my mind would run away with me I would wonder if they had been and torture myself about not holding them as they died.

What did the placenta pathology say?

- Infection found in the placentas and bits of tissue sent after delivery. My doctor is very sure that I contracted a bug which caused my membranes to rupture and delivery to occur. Nothing I could have done differently would have caused a different outcome. "It's a case of really bad luck"

Could the odd shape of my uterus have caused problems and could my cervix have been incompetent?

- Probably not. But next time we'll keep a closer eye on the length of my cervix just to make sure.

Can I be referred back to this doctor sooner than what my family doctor would usually request if we get pregnant again?

-Yes! The second I get a positive pregnancy test a referral should be fired to her office. This makes me happy. She is kind, compassionate, and knowledgeable.

I should hear back yet on whether the babies' bodies are still at the hospital and if autopsy can still be done. I'm expecting a phone call.

But otherwise, I think that kind of sums things up. Hopefully we can move forward from this and give it another go this summer.

Apology

We heard back from the patient liaison on Thursday. My chart was reviewed and discussed with the staff that worked on the night we came. Although it was a busy night they gave no excuse for not having a nurse visible/available at the desk during our wait and stated that they were sorry. That should never have happened and they took ownership for that.

That feels good.

Lucky

I get to hear this song almost daily. I'm the luckiest mama!

Update

I've been meaning to write for a few days now and have actually started on multiple occasions with no real direction and no focus to my words. Feels like I don't know where to start or finish.

I'm just coming off Spring Break week. For me that meant a week of holidays and lots of good times with my little guy. We spent time together and with friends. The overwhelming, all encompassing heaviness of sadness has somewhat lifted in our household and laughter can be heard. Isaiah needed lots of "mommy days". It was good medicine for my heart as well.

Tomorrow I go back to work. I'm stronger and more emotionally stable than 2 weeks ago. I may have gone back a bit prematurely...

I am enjoying getting back into shape. Working out at home, in the gym, toning my abs, etc. It has been a long time and is such good therapy for me. I'm also enjoying having a glass of wine with my dinner and carrying my son whenever I want to or he asks me to. These things feel good.

My biggest struggles remain my appetite and sleep. It's hard to sleep. My appetite is improved from what it was, so that's good.

I just can't believe it's almost been a month already...

Patient Liaison

I should be 21 weeks pregnant. But I'm not. It blows my mind that I am mommy to three but only get to mother (verb) one. I am oh-so-thankful for that one though. If I didn't have that memory box and one photo of me at 14 weeks pregnant I could hardly believe it. I am so thankful for the things I have to remember the babies by. It gives credence to how I'm feeling and gives me permission to grieve.

We really felt like we needed to go back to the hospital to talk about our experience. During the time that I was waiting between triage and being seen I was alone (with my husband). Though we returned to the desk multiple times to let them know things were changing/progressing nobody checked on me. At the time I was focused on myself and my distress but in retrospect it bothers me. I felt completely uncared for.

Perhaps because I am a nurse I had conflicting feelings about the meeting. I am overwhelmingly sad that my profession does or can not care for people who are in physical pain and emotional distress. I would hope that if it had been me working that I could have and would have provided care. Emotionally at the very least. Having my vital signs taken would have made me feel somewhat cared for and taken 30 seconds.

I also felt badly because I kind of felt that I was going against my own people - nurses. I understand what a busy shift is like. What it's like to be short staffed and bursting at the seams with people who are sick and demanding. To work a night shift and not have slept the day before. The variables are endless.

Walking into the building where I left my babies was almost unbearable. More so that I had even expected. My body had a completely visceral response with back pain and uterine cramps while my head spun. I had to catch my breath.

The patient liaison was very nice. Since the Husband was unsure on the chronological details I had to tell the story myself. It felt like just yesterday. The liaison cried with us and wrote our story down. From here it gets taken to the ER manager who will pull my file and talk to people working the shift that night and determine if anything could have been done differently.

I don't want anyone else to go through what I did feeling like they were alone in a place that should be taking care of them.

The liaison did say that labor before 20 weeks cannot be treated or stopped. Which I knew. I am not assigning any blame for the outcome I had. She reminded us that in a perfect world there are two staff at the desk, one of whom is a reassessment nurse. But that when they're short staffed or busy that nurse if the first to be pulled, etc, etc. I get that. Really, I do.

My Husband asked if I wanted him to spend some time with me after the appointment as we walked out, me with tears I just couldn't stop. All I could say is "I need to get out of here". I went, alone, to the mall for some time alone and permission to buy myself a treat.

It's hours later now and I'm still feeling a bit shook up but mostly better. I have done what I needed to and now I just need to let it go.

Adjusting

I'm enjoying a day off. This morning I brought my beautiful son to pre-school and then went home and did a light workout, started laundry, and sipped a cup of strong coffee while sitting in the sun on the deck.

This week marks my return to work and the two week date since losing the babies. My first day at work was almost impossible. I paced the floor at 6 AM wondering if I should go or call in sick. My heart pounded and tears filled my eyes. I convinced myself to drive to work, comforting myself with the thought that once I walked in the building, if things felt overwhelming I would let myself go back home. Everyone would understand.

I didn't end up going home though I did spend a good portion of the day crying. Just as I would gain my composure another person would stop by with condolences and a hug. I deeply appreciate everybody's expressions of care and concern for me and the shared feeling of disappointment and loss but I am seriously prone to tears. Lucky for me that tendency hasn't scared anybody off.

Two weeks post miscarriage has me feeling a bit better. I'm stronger, my color is better. I'm not as sad as I was. I feel like I'm either completely disconnected, especially in a crowd setting, or deeply sad with very little in between. But I am able to eat more, laugh with my son, and appreciate beauty around me. Sometimes I can talk about losing my babies without bursting into tears.

Progress. Slow but sure.

Some of the books I have read or the websites I've looked through talk a lot about feeling anger in regards to loss. I can't relate to that. As of yet (and I realize it may be kind of early) I have only felt deep, heavy sadness. And perhaps some feelings of guilt thinking of what I could or should have done better. I have yet to identify anger on this journey.

In a month or so I'll return to my OBGYN. I have a list of questions for her. I'm curious as to whether the autopsy and pathology results will give us any more information. Shortly after that appointment we'll return to the fertility clinic and talk about giving it another go. Our dream is still to expand our family and give the Boy a sibling. For now we will pursue that.

Ramblings

I'm not sure where to start today...



At around noon I'm heading to work. I'm just going by to say hi and deal with some of the load of emotions I know I won't be able to contain. I want to get over a good part of that before I go in to work on Monday. I left there last week Monday with 2 growing babies and an unmistakable belly. I return with empty arms, wearing my pre-natal jeans.

In the midst of loss, I feel blessed. My grief reaction is always extreme and this is by far the biggest, most personal loss I have experienced. If I didn't have friends and family checking up on me, encouraging me, listening to me and making sure I put food into my knotted stomach... if I didn't have my son to haul me out of bed and go about my day... I think I would curl up and disappear. That is my tendency.

Yesterday I sat with my Husband, my Dad, Sister-in-law, and Brother. We shared our memory box with them. It's so hard for me to open that box. Just makes me so sad. But we talked about the babies, held the tiny bunting bags that they wore. It hurt like crazy but in another way felt really good. I am so happy to have a memory box. It's a reminder that they were real. It acknowledges my grief. I showed Isaiah the outfit his sister wore and he turned away, sad. My dear Mom followed him as he took a girl and boy doll and played with them for a while. It was like play therapy. He was so gentle with the dolls. I hope he can be a big brother on earth one day.




These figurines were my sister-in-law's idea. Aren't they lovely?

Fading

Yesterday I put all my maternity clothes in a bin and put them away. I've lost almost all of my pregnancy weight. Feels like even my body doesn't remember my babies. A week ago they died.

I'm thinking of getting a tattoo. I don't want to forget.