I read an amazing post over at Still Standing today. It was written by Tova Gold a fellow Baby Loss Mom. The subject is one that for some reason isn't talked about as much in the loss community; the termination of a pregnancy for medical reasons. It was a moving insight into the experience of hearing that your baby has a condition that won't be compatible with life and the choices you are forced to make in the aftermath.
What touched me the most was that there were photos and names of 80 women (and their babies) who have found themselves in the same situation as Tova. This piece was written from the heart and is so well done that I won't try and recap it here. You can click the link above to read it for yourself.
When I finished the article I was moved almost to tears. Then I started reading the comments and my blood began to boil. What I saw mixed in with the words of condolence and support was so ugly I couldn't believe it. Were people actually attacking these women for the situation they found themselves in? Were people actually going to criticize and judge women who have lost their children? Much to my dismay they were and I found the whole thing very unsettling.
In my mind, the only difference between what these women went through and what I did was that they had advanced notice. I didn't know anything was wrong until it was too late. They knew in advance that their baby would die and were faced with an impossible decision. Do you terminate now? Or do you carry to term knowing that your baby will either not make it or will die at or shortly after birth? That's not a choice I would want to have to make.
But these women found themselves faced with this very dilemma. A heartbreaking choice needed to be made. To go about something like this you may rely on your faith or you may go based purely on your emotions. There are many layers and dimensions to either choice. I would imagine that many hours of reflection and tears have been poured into each and every decision. Neither path leads to a happy ending.
I liken it to that game where you choose between two horrible things and say which one you would want. Like would you want to chop your arm off or let it fall of by itself? Is there really a good option? Of course not. Either way you lose your arm and neither way sounds particularly pleasant.
Somehow, not unsurprisingly, matters like this get tied to the pro-choice/pro-life debate. I am not here to debate that issue but I will say this; there is no life at the end of this decision. In the end you get a dead baby, period! It's just a matter of how it happens.
So to read comments where people are condemning women for choosing to terminate a pregnancy where there is no chance of a living baby makes me sick to my stomach. Who are these people to tell someone that they should carry a pregnancy to term that they know is doomed? For that matter, who are these people to tell women who choose to carry to term that they are being foolish or causing their babies undue suffering?
Who are these people to not offer these women the same sympathy that people who suffer a stillbirth or neonatal death get? Just because we didn't know ahead of time doesn't make our loss any more worthy of condolence. Just because these women did know doesn't mean they deserve to be judged on the decision they made. It's not like they wanted to have to make it.
So for all of you who sit in judgement I challenge you. Put yourself in their shoes. I mean it. Really allow yourselves to go there. To go to that horrible place where you have just been told that your unborn child has no chance of viability outside the womb. Put yourself in that mindset and then tell me what you would do. Then tell me how it would feel to have people judge you for it.
Dealing with the loss of a child is never easy, but it's even more difficult when you are an expat living far from home. Life will never be "normal" again and so now the challenge is to find my new normal. I am now back in the USA and the proud parent of two daughters, born using two different egg donors. "Frostina" and "Olea" are the loves of my life and I feel so grateful for the amazing women who donated their eggs and made my family possible.
Thursday, 5 June 2014
Monday, 26 May 2014
Hospital Tour, Frostina Style
The Hubby and I went on a tour of the new hospital where we will be having Baby Olea. It was quite surreal. This huge hospital is such a contrast to the small, private, Women and Children's Hospital in London where we had our son and Frostina. It's absolutely massive. The good thing (and one of the reasons I picked it) is that it is attached to one of the top Children's Hospitals in the state and has a level 4 NICU. It's definitely the place to be if you have a high risk pregnancy so I feel very secure.
It's also very American which still feels foreign to me. I know, I know, I'm American,,, but I've had 2 babies in England and 0 babies here and it's a different experience. Not bad, just different. Overall I am happy with the hospital and it's facilities. Though I'm not sure how I feel about their policy to encourage rooming in. After a c-section I know I will really need my sleep at night. So I think I will still request they take Baby Olea to the nursery at night. Hopefully I won't get too many dirty looks from the nurses about that.
Did you know they don't swaddle babies anymore? When did that happen? At the tour they said to only swaddle babies that are diagnosed with colic. We didn't swaddle Frostina for long with a normal swaddling blanket because The Hubby was a rubbish swaddler. But we did buy these zip up swaddling blankets that we used instead. Without it, Frostina used to swing her arms around and wake herself up. So I think I will still use those with Baby Olea (see how I'm assuming she will come home with us alive and healthy?)
We brought Frostina with us and that was quite an experience. First of all, she insisted on bringing Winnie the Pooh. Unfortunately, this particular Pooh Bear is huge and too big for her to carry for long. He ended up getting dropped on the ground in the parking garage and on the hospital floor. I immediately start thinking about all the germs that are now all over Mr Pooh. So who ends up carrying him, me of course.When we got home it was straight into the washer and a hot water cycle.
She ran around the auditorium during the information session making sure everyone knew she was there. She climbed in and out of every empty chair she could find. She found both clocks in the room and shouted, "Clock, clock, tick tock, tick tock," in front of each of them. She spotted all the lights which she also announced to the room. I won't even get into the balloon that she saw way up high in the ceiling which caused quite a dialogue of, "Da boon flying, da boon flying." Poor Hubby barely got to hear what the woman was talking about because he was so busy chasing her around.
When the tour started she began her own narration about various things she saw along the way like doors, lights, balloons (in the gift shop), and of course all the clocks. She also wanted to know what every noise was, and you know there are lots of noises in a hospital.
One fun game she played was getting behind and then running back to us saying, "Too fast, too fast." The hubby and I joked at one point that this was what everyone was in for in 2 years time. Everyone on the tour seemed quite entertained by her. The woman from the hospital told me I will definitely have my hands full when the new baby comes.
If she had been British I would have immediately interpreted this as a judgement on Frostina's behaviour, but since she was American I didn't take it badly. Of course there were two other older siblings on the tour who were quiet and stayed with their parents. You wouldn't even have known they were there. But not my Frostina. She made sure her presence was known by all.
Because that's how Frostina rolls!
It's also very American which still feels foreign to me. I know, I know, I'm American,,, but I've had 2 babies in England and 0 babies here and it's a different experience. Not bad, just different. Overall I am happy with the hospital and it's facilities. Though I'm not sure how I feel about their policy to encourage rooming in. After a c-section I know I will really need my sleep at night. So I think I will still request they take Baby Olea to the nursery at night. Hopefully I won't get too many dirty looks from the nurses about that.
Did you know they don't swaddle babies anymore? When did that happen? At the tour they said to only swaddle babies that are diagnosed with colic. We didn't swaddle Frostina for long with a normal swaddling blanket because The Hubby was a rubbish swaddler. But we did buy these zip up swaddling blankets that we used instead. Without it, Frostina used to swing her arms around and wake herself up. So I think I will still use those with Baby Olea (see how I'm assuming she will come home with us alive and healthy?)
We brought Frostina with us and that was quite an experience. First of all, she insisted on bringing Winnie the Pooh. Unfortunately, this particular Pooh Bear is huge and too big for her to carry for long. He ended up getting dropped on the ground in the parking garage and on the hospital floor. I immediately start thinking about all the germs that are now all over Mr Pooh. So who ends up carrying him, me of course.When we got home it was straight into the washer and a hot water cycle.
She ran around the auditorium during the information session making sure everyone knew she was there. She climbed in and out of every empty chair she could find. She found both clocks in the room and shouted, "Clock, clock, tick tock, tick tock," in front of each of them. She spotted all the lights which she also announced to the room. I won't even get into the balloon that she saw way up high in the ceiling which caused quite a dialogue of, "Da boon flying, da boon flying." Poor Hubby barely got to hear what the woman was talking about because he was so busy chasing her around.
When the tour started she began her own narration about various things she saw along the way like doors, lights, balloons (in the gift shop), and of course all the clocks. She also wanted to know what every noise was, and you know there are lots of noises in a hospital.
One fun game she played was getting behind and then running back to us saying, "Too fast, too fast." The hubby and I joked at one point that this was what everyone was in for in 2 years time. Everyone on the tour seemed quite entertained by her. The woman from the hospital told me I will definitely have my hands full when the new baby comes.
If she had been British I would have immediately interpreted this as a judgement on Frostina's behaviour, but since she was American I didn't take it badly. Of course there were two other older siblings on the tour who were quiet and stayed with their parents. You wouldn't even have known they were there. But not my Frostina. She made sure her presence was known by all.
Because that's how Frostina rolls!
Tuesday, 13 May 2014
Shields Up
This pregnancy I have become a master at defense mechanisms. Not by choice really, but it seems to be my standard operating mode- Full Shields Up.
I spent the entire pregnancy with Frostina being scared. Petrified would be a better word. I was sure that at any moment it would all go wrong again. I fretted and cried and fretted some more. I made myself miserable with stress and fear and worry. I'm not upset at myself about it because it was the only way I knew how to be pregnant after a loss. It was my standard operating mode.
This time around things are very different. For one thing, I have Frostina to chase around. Plus there's the international move, trying to find a new house, and getting my new life sorted here in Florida. I am busy and have much less time to sit around being scared.
But it's more than that I think. I think this time around I just can't be fearful the entire time. I can't be worried all the time that this baby will die. I barely survived a fear-filled pregnancy and I think I just can't do it again. So my smart little brain has figured out how to put the walls up and help me to focus on the rest of my life, not just the pregnancy. I have no idea how it happened or how long it will last. I may wake up tomorrow and feel completely different,,, and that's ok,,, but for now this is how I feel and what seems to be working for me.
A bit of the old me has crept back in. The old me that stayed away from sad and scary stories. The old me that truly believed that ignorance in some cases is bliss. The old me that actually allows myself to believe that being pregnant means you will be coming home with a living baby in the end. I'm not as foolish as the old me though. I do know that avoiding bad thoughts and stories doesn't protect you from having them happen. This time I am choosing to focus on the positive as opposed to hiding from the negative.
I have found myself shying away from many of my old haunts here in the internet. I am no longer drawn to every sad story of women who like me have lost children. Not because I don't care about them or don't relate anymore,,,, because I still do. But more because I don't need to connect to the pain of others the way I used to. There was a time when I craved that kind of affirmation, to know I wasn't alone. But now it all feels a bit too much, a bit too indulgent, a bit like I need to spend my time focusing on my life as it is now.
Trust me, this is not a happy, I'm over it now post. I'm so not over it. But I can't dwell on it like I used to. I can't let it consume me day in and day out. I have to do things like paint Baby Olea's room in the new house and go through Frostina's old clothes to see how many are suitable for the sunny Florida climate.
I have to move forward and live my life. And for now that means not dwelling so much on the past. Never forgetting my beloved son of course, but perhaps filing things away. Away behind the defensive walls, behind the shields. The way you put important things away in a very safe place you know you can revisit when you need to. Put away for safe keeping as opposed to being put in a frame sitting in your front room.
I spent the entire pregnancy with Frostina being scared. Petrified would be a better word. I was sure that at any moment it would all go wrong again. I fretted and cried and fretted some more. I made myself miserable with stress and fear and worry. I'm not upset at myself about it because it was the only way I knew how to be pregnant after a loss. It was my standard operating mode.
This time around things are very different. For one thing, I have Frostina to chase around. Plus there's the international move, trying to find a new house, and getting my new life sorted here in Florida. I am busy and have much less time to sit around being scared.
But it's more than that I think. I think this time around I just can't be fearful the entire time. I can't be worried all the time that this baby will die. I barely survived a fear-filled pregnancy and I think I just can't do it again. So my smart little brain has figured out how to put the walls up and help me to focus on the rest of my life, not just the pregnancy. I have no idea how it happened or how long it will last. I may wake up tomorrow and feel completely different,,, and that's ok,,, but for now this is how I feel and what seems to be working for me.
A bit of the old me has crept back in. The old me that stayed away from sad and scary stories. The old me that truly believed that ignorance in some cases is bliss. The old me that actually allows myself to believe that being pregnant means you will be coming home with a living baby in the end. I'm not as foolish as the old me though. I do know that avoiding bad thoughts and stories doesn't protect you from having them happen. This time I am choosing to focus on the positive as opposed to hiding from the negative.
I have found myself shying away from many of my old haunts here in the internet. I am no longer drawn to every sad story of women who like me have lost children. Not because I don't care about them or don't relate anymore,,,, because I still do. But more because I don't need to connect to the pain of others the way I used to. There was a time when I craved that kind of affirmation, to know I wasn't alone. But now it all feels a bit too much, a bit too indulgent, a bit like I need to spend my time focusing on my life as it is now.
Trust me, this is not a happy, I'm over it now post. I'm so not over it. But I can't dwell on it like I used to. I can't let it consume me day in and day out. I have to do things like paint Baby Olea's room in the new house and go through Frostina's old clothes to see how many are suitable for the sunny Florida climate.
I have to move forward and live my life. And for now that means not dwelling so much on the past. Never forgetting my beloved son of course, but perhaps filing things away. Away behind the defensive walls, behind the shields. The way you put important things away in a very safe place you know you can revisit when you need to. Put away for safe keeping as opposed to being put in a frame sitting in your front room.
Tuesday, 6 May 2014
Just One Of Those Days
Today was not a great day. It wasn't awful, but it pretty much typifies my life these days. By this I mean hectic and filled with all the not so fun things that proper grown ups have to deal with.
I should probably back up a bit before I go any further to help you get caught up. A few posts back I mentioned that my perinatologist tested me for various auto immune antibodies and what do you know, I came up positive for one of them. His solution was for me to start taking blood thinners to reduce the risk to Baby Olea. Sounds good, right?
Welcome back to America! The land of health insurance companies who think more about money than about patient health (in my humble opinion). My insurance doesn't cover that particular medication, or any blood thinner for a person of my age. After two appeals by my doctor the official answer is, "No because it's not on the list of approved medications."
Yes, I'm serious.
To pay out of pocket for a 30 day supply, my local pharmacy wanted to charge me $1000. WHAT??? I know, that's just crazy talk. Thankfully my amazing doctor's office staff were able to find another pharmacy who are only going to charge me $300. Such a huge price difference for the same medication is shocking, but it shows you it pays to shop around. *Side note- I owe that nurse a thank you card.
In addition to this, I failed my 1 hour glucose tolerance test by 5 points. Major bummer. So today I had to go back to take the 3 hour one. When I got the call that I failed they also advised me that I would need to come pick up a special pre-test diet that I would need to stick to for 3 days prior to the test. Surprisingly, it seemed to me to be very high in carbs and even required me to eat dessert after lunch and dinner (which being the good rule follower that I am, I obeyed).
Of course I have no family in Florida so I have to pay a sitter for this joyful experience. So in addition to it being a not so fun way to spend a Tuesday, I also have to pay money for the privilege. In the end it was 6 hours of babysitting time I had to pay up for.
The test was set for 8:30 this am which is good since it's a fasting blood test. I had the sitter booked to come at 7:15 to give me plenty of time to transition out and get to the office on time. 7:15 arrives and no sitter, 7:30 and no sitter. I called the sitter and the phone went to voicemail.
Now I'm panicking. This sitter is great and Frostina loves her. I found her through an agency since I knew I would need reliable childcare for all our house hunting excursions and my doctor's appointments. She is a responsible woman in her 50's so how can she be a no show? My mind is racing and I don't know what to do. I now have visions of bringing Frostina with me on this 3 hour blood test adventure. What a nightmare that would be, but needs must.
As I was getting her dressed to go the sitter called back. She had her days mixed up but said she could be there in 15 minutes. Not ideal, but at least I didn't have to drag Frostina long to a marathon doctor visit. I tried calling my doctor to tell them I would be late but kept getting the fax machine. Turns out I have the wrong number programmed into my phone, silly me.
The sitter finally arrives and I fly out to my appointment, except that my tank is empty so I need to get gas first. It's been a long time since I've had a car so I forget to check the tank,,, lesson learned. I finally arrive 45 minutes late but thankfully they don't give me a hard time.
It was during the 3 hour boring human pincushion torture session that I get the call about my blood thinners and the final verdict from the insurance company. I agree to stop by the new, cheaper pharmacy on the way home to pick up the medication. Keep in mind that I am fasting and am 1 hour behind the schedule I should have been on.
Test is over and I won't know the results for a few days but I don't care. I scarf down the banana I packed and head to the pharmacy. I finally get there and they don't have anything for me. Ugh!
Luckily the pharmacist remembers them calling to ask about prices so he calls them back and gets the prescription. All of this takes about 35 minutes while I wait, starving in front of the shelf of candy bars they have sitting under the counter. By this time I am starving and have a headache.
Then I get a text from my sitter asking how much longer I will be because her kitchen is being re-done and the granite guy has arrived early. I feel no guilt about this because it's her fault I'm an hour behind so I tell her I will be back as soon as I can. She gets a neighbor to let the guy in so that crisis was averted.
I finally get my meds (well half of them because they don't have all 30 days worth in stock) and now I need to get something to eat. My original plan was to take the test and then enjoy a leisurely Mexican lunch at this restaurant I've just discovered. But now there's no time for that. Instead I settle for a slice of pizza and an iced tea at the pizza place in the same strip center as the pharmacy.
I head home and pay the sitter a small fortune for my not so great day. Between the blood thinners and what I had to pay the sitter, it was a pretty expensive day. I swear, one of these days I would like to pay a sitter and get to do something besides sit in a doctor's office.
Did you make it all the way to the end of this rant? Congratulations and thanks for sticking it out with me. I hope your day was better than mine was.
I should probably back up a bit before I go any further to help you get caught up. A few posts back I mentioned that my perinatologist tested me for various auto immune antibodies and what do you know, I came up positive for one of them. His solution was for me to start taking blood thinners to reduce the risk to Baby Olea. Sounds good, right?
Welcome back to America! The land of health insurance companies who think more about money than about patient health (in my humble opinion). My insurance doesn't cover that particular medication, or any blood thinner for a person of my age. After two appeals by my doctor the official answer is, "No because it's not on the list of approved medications."
Yes, I'm serious.
To pay out of pocket for a 30 day supply, my local pharmacy wanted to charge me $1000. WHAT??? I know, that's just crazy talk. Thankfully my amazing doctor's office staff were able to find another pharmacy who are only going to charge me $300. Such a huge price difference for the same medication is shocking, but it shows you it pays to shop around. *Side note- I owe that nurse a thank you card.
In addition to this, I failed my 1 hour glucose tolerance test by 5 points. Major bummer. So today I had to go back to take the 3 hour one. When I got the call that I failed they also advised me that I would need to come pick up a special pre-test diet that I would need to stick to for 3 days prior to the test. Surprisingly, it seemed to me to be very high in carbs and even required me to eat dessert after lunch and dinner (which being the good rule follower that I am, I obeyed).
Of course I have no family in Florida so I have to pay a sitter for this joyful experience. So in addition to it being a not so fun way to spend a Tuesday, I also have to pay money for the privilege. In the end it was 6 hours of babysitting time I had to pay up for.
The test was set for 8:30 this am which is good since it's a fasting blood test. I had the sitter booked to come at 7:15 to give me plenty of time to transition out and get to the office on time. 7:15 arrives and no sitter, 7:30 and no sitter. I called the sitter and the phone went to voicemail.
Now I'm panicking. This sitter is great and Frostina loves her. I found her through an agency since I knew I would need reliable childcare for all our house hunting excursions and my doctor's appointments. She is a responsible woman in her 50's so how can she be a no show? My mind is racing and I don't know what to do. I now have visions of bringing Frostina with me on this 3 hour blood test adventure. What a nightmare that would be, but needs must.
As I was getting her dressed to go the sitter called back. She had her days mixed up but said she could be there in 15 minutes. Not ideal, but at least I didn't have to drag Frostina long to a marathon doctor visit. I tried calling my doctor to tell them I would be late but kept getting the fax machine. Turns out I have the wrong number programmed into my phone, silly me.
The sitter finally arrives and I fly out to my appointment, except that my tank is empty so I need to get gas first. It's been a long time since I've had a car so I forget to check the tank,,, lesson learned. I finally arrive 45 minutes late but thankfully they don't give me a hard time.
It was during the 3 hour boring human pincushion torture session that I get the call about my blood thinners and the final verdict from the insurance company. I agree to stop by the new, cheaper pharmacy on the way home to pick up the medication. Keep in mind that I am fasting and am 1 hour behind the schedule I should have been on.
Test is over and I won't know the results for a few days but I don't care. I scarf down the banana I packed and head to the pharmacy. I finally get there and they don't have anything for me. Ugh!
Luckily the pharmacist remembers them calling to ask about prices so he calls them back and gets the prescription. All of this takes about 35 minutes while I wait, starving in front of the shelf of candy bars they have sitting under the counter. By this time I am starving and have a headache.
Then I get a text from my sitter asking how much longer I will be because her kitchen is being re-done and the granite guy has arrived early. I feel no guilt about this because it's her fault I'm an hour behind so I tell her I will be back as soon as I can. She gets a neighbor to let the guy in so that crisis was averted.
I finally get my meds (well half of them because they don't have all 30 days worth in stock) and now I need to get something to eat. My original plan was to take the test and then enjoy a leisurely Mexican lunch at this restaurant I've just discovered. But now there's no time for that. Instead I settle for a slice of pizza and an iced tea at the pizza place in the same strip center as the pharmacy.
I head home and pay the sitter a small fortune for my not so great day. Between the blood thinners and what I had to pay the sitter, it was a pretty expensive day. I swear, one of these days I would like to pay a sitter and get to do something besides sit in a doctor's office.
Did you make it all the way to the end of this rant? Congratulations and thanks for sticking it out with me. I hope your day was better than mine was.
Monday, 21 April 2014
Happy Easter + A 3 Weeks In Florida Catch Up
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| So I put this egg in the basket? |
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| I'll put it right here, now I gotta go find some more. |
I should confess though that we did not do an egg hunt today. Mother of the Year that I am, I skipped the hunt today because we have done 3 this season and I was just too tired to do another one today. She did one in London before we moved, she did this one here in Florida with a local Meet Up group I have joined, and she did one at the Mommy and Me class I took her to on Friday. So she has gotten her fill of plastic eggs and candy.
There is so much going on with our move and our house hunting and I have run out of energy. These past three weeks have been a blur. We have moved into our temporary apartment. I was able to get Frostina into a local pediatrician who came recommended by a friend. It turns out we were only behind by 2 immunisations which is pretty good they tell me. My doctor back in London did her best to keep us up on the UK and US schedules and it paid off.
I have found and been seen by an Obstetrician, a Perinatologist, and have even had my first fight with my insurance company about which drugs they will and won't pay for. *The medicine in question being the blood thinners that the doctor wants me to take. This fight is still in progress. Sigh, I do miss good old England and it's national health service. This would never happen on the NHS.
We have been working with a realtor to try and find a house and I think our efforts have paid off. We just finished putting together our offer letter for a house we like. So now we wait and see. Fingers crossed people, I really want to be in a house before Baby Olea is born.
To say we have been busy is an understatement! So when it came to today I just had nothing left. I did make pancakes for Frostina which she loves and I did cook a ham for The Hubby which he said he loved (bless him). But I just couldn't manage to play Easter Bunny too.
I figured this is the last year I will be able to get away with it since by next year she will know all about Easter and the Easter Bunny. Plus I have these photos and I can always tell her they were taken on Easter Sunday, right?
Tuesday, 15 April 2014
A Diagnosis, After All This Time
When my son died and was born they performed an autopsy. When the report came back the results were somewhat inconclusive, you can read about all that here if you want. It's painful for me to click back there and read just how broken I was back then, but I digress.
Anyway, the report basically said that the placenta failed. It was attacked by an infection or virus of unknown origin. My son was tested and I was tested and no infection or virus was ever found. The conclusion at the time was that it was a fluke and not something that could happen again.
I entered my pregnancy with Frostina with LOTS of fear and trepidation. I was worried that something would go wrong again, because that was all I knew. But I didn't worry that the exact same thing could happen, because I had been told specifically that it wouldn't.
So you will imagine my surprise when the exact same thing did happen, only this time the outcome wasn't fatal. You can read all the details here if you like. In a nutshell, Frostina's placenta had degraded as well and her fluid level was very very low on delivery day. My doctor surmised that the "infection or virus" was in fact an auto immune response by my body to the pregnancy. In essence, my body attacks pregnancies like they are an unwanted foreign body.
It was quite a bitter pill to swallow, to know that my body killed my son and was trying to kill my daughter. But at least the mystery was finally solved. At least I knew it wasn't just a fluke. It was a real thing that I could watch out for and hopefully prevent in future pregnancies.
I relayed all of this "history" to my new and super awesome perinatologist who I met with last week. If you're scratching your head at this point, I apologize for not writing about all of this before but life has been super crazy around here. Anyway, when I mentioned the auto immune part to him he ordered a bunch of tests to see if we could identify what it was. Some pretty scary test names were rattled off including lupus which really freaked me out.
Yesterday I got a call from the doctor himself, so I knew it wasn't an "all clear" call because those are normally made by the nurses in the office. It turns out that I don't have any of the super scary auto immune disorders like lupus which is a huge relief. But I did have one test that came back positive. I won't put the name of it here because it has a super medical name and even when you try to google it you don't get a good definition. Plus I try to steer away from all the medical lingo here on the blog because I'm no doctor and I don't want people looking for real medical advice to be directed here.
The way the doctor explained it to me, this particular antibody that I have can cause increased clotting. My levels aren't super high so it hasn't caused any clotting for me, but the blood vessels that feed the placenta are very small. He explained that it's possible that these antibodies could have caused tiny clots in the placenta that would have impeded blood flow and may very well be the cause of the death of my son and the issues with Frostina's last week in-utero. Of course he says he can't be 100% sure, but he thinks it's more likely than not.
So starting today I have to take a small dose of heparin (which is a blood thinner) each day. It's an injection which I had really hoped I was all done with, but I will do whatever it takes to make sure Baby Olea arrives alive and healthy. As the doctor was telling me about the injections I could tell he was worried that I was afraid of doing them. I reminded him that I had done all of my own IVF injections and if I can do a progesterone in oil jab with a 1 inch needle into my thigh each day, I can certainly do a tiny one in my belly. He laughed and joked that I'm an expert which sadly I am.
So later on this morning I'm off to my new pharmacy to pick up my new set of needles and medication. That's what I get for bragging that I was finally all done injecting myself this pregnancy. I am happy that we have a plan to help keep Baby Olea safe, and I am very impressed with my perinatologist.
After all this time I have an official diagnosis for what caused my son to die. It feels strange. On the one hand it's nice to know finally what happened. But on the other hand it's sad to have confirmation that it's my fault. That for some reason, my body contains antibodies that attack pregnancies. But in the end, it's good to know. It's good to have a diagnosis.
It's too bad a diagnosis can't go back and re-write history.
Anyway, the report basically said that the placenta failed. It was attacked by an infection or virus of unknown origin. My son was tested and I was tested and no infection or virus was ever found. The conclusion at the time was that it was a fluke and not something that could happen again.
I entered my pregnancy with Frostina with LOTS of fear and trepidation. I was worried that something would go wrong again, because that was all I knew. But I didn't worry that the exact same thing could happen, because I had been told specifically that it wouldn't.
So you will imagine my surprise when the exact same thing did happen, only this time the outcome wasn't fatal. You can read all the details here if you like. In a nutshell, Frostina's placenta had degraded as well and her fluid level was very very low on delivery day. My doctor surmised that the "infection or virus" was in fact an auto immune response by my body to the pregnancy. In essence, my body attacks pregnancies like they are an unwanted foreign body.
It was quite a bitter pill to swallow, to know that my body killed my son and was trying to kill my daughter. But at least the mystery was finally solved. At least I knew it wasn't just a fluke. It was a real thing that I could watch out for and hopefully prevent in future pregnancies.
I relayed all of this "history" to my new and super awesome perinatologist who I met with last week. If you're scratching your head at this point, I apologize for not writing about all of this before but life has been super crazy around here. Anyway, when I mentioned the auto immune part to him he ordered a bunch of tests to see if we could identify what it was. Some pretty scary test names were rattled off including lupus which really freaked me out.
Yesterday I got a call from the doctor himself, so I knew it wasn't an "all clear" call because those are normally made by the nurses in the office. It turns out that I don't have any of the super scary auto immune disorders like lupus which is a huge relief. But I did have one test that came back positive. I won't put the name of it here because it has a super medical name and even when you try to google it you don't get a good definition. Plus I try to steer away from all the medical lingo here on the blog because I'm no doctor and I don't want people looking for real medical advice to be directed here.
The way the doctor explained it to me, this particular antibody that I have can cause increased clotting. My levels aren't super high so it hasn't caused any clotting for me, but the blood vessels that feed the placenta are very small. He explained that it's possible that these antibodies could have caused tiny clots in the placenta that would have impeded blood flow and may very well be the cause of the death of my son and the issues with Frostina's last week in-utero. Of course he says he can't be 100% sure, but he thinks it's more likely than not.
So starting today I have to take a small dose of heparin (which is a blood thinner) each day. It's an injection which I had really hoped I was all done with, but I will do whatever it takes to make sure Baby Olea arrives alive and healthy. As the doctor was telling me about the injections I could tell he was worried that I was afraid of doing them. I reminded him that I had done all of my own IVF injections and if I can do a progesterone in oil jab with a 1 inch needle into my thigh each day, I can certainly do a tiny one in my belly. He laughed and joked that I'm an expert which sadly I am.
So later on this morning I'm off to my new pharmacy to pick up my new set of needles and medication. That's what I get for bragging that I was finally all done injecting myself this pregnancy. I am happy that we have a plan to help keep Baby Olea safe, and I am very impressed with my perinatologist.
After all this time I have an official diagnosis for what caused my son to die. It feels strange. On the one hand it's nice to know finally what happened. But on the other hand it's sad to have confirmation that it's my fault. That for some reason, my body contains antibodies that attack pregnancies. But in the end, it's good to know. It's good to have a diagnosis.
It's too bad a diagnosis can't go back and re-write history.
Tuesday, 1 April 2014
Moving Is Chaotic
I know you're probably thinking, "Duh, how obvious," after reading the title of this post. But I really mean it, moving is chaos. Especially when you're moving countries. There are accounts to close and early termination fees to pay. There are so many things to do it's mind numbing. The only saving grace is that we are in a corporate apartment at the moment so at least I don't have to deal with the whole hooking up all new utilities thing.
Frostina got a horrible cold just before the move. I am now regretting taking her to "just one more" Gymboree class before we left because you know that's where she picked up this particular germ. So for the last two nights in the hotel before we flew to the US she was sleeping between us coughing and choking on her own phlegm.
Then there was the over 9 hour flight to Miami where her ears started bothering her on take-off. After the tears dried she did an amazing job on the plane, a sure sign that we have already taken her on way too many international flights. Thankfully her ears were fine for landing.
Once we landed we were off to our new apartment. Except that no one bothered to tell us that the leasing office closed at 6pm. So picture us rolling up at 9pm and having no access to the complex or the apartment. Seriously people, it sucked. After a few calls to a few people it was determined that we were going to have to find a hotel for the night. Did I mention it's spring break in South Florida? So of course it took a few hotels before we finally found one with a room. It was a total nightmare.
Anyway, that drama over, we are now in our apartment (I almost typed flat here, I think it will take some time to eliminate all the British lingo from my vocabulary). It's nice and safe and clean an Frostina seems to like it now. The first day she paced around crying which was heartbreaking. She is such a trooper but this was just too much for her.
My solution? A trip to Super Target (oh how I have missed that place) for a few new toys and she seems to be doing much better. She is very clingy and cuddly at the moment which is nice but can be a challenge when you're trying to cook dinner and you have a toddler attached to your leg.
Yesterday I had an appointment with my new OB and I am very happy with her. I meet the Perinatologist next week and I am feeling like my care for this pregnancy is on track. Now I have to hope I like the hospital after I set up the tour, because I'm pretty much stuck giving birth there now. I did my research though and based on the recommendation of a local doctor (who is a friend of a friend) I chose this hospital. Then I worked backwards and found my doctor. So based on hospital reputation I should like it,,,, right?
This weekend we start our house hunt. I found a babysitting agency so we don't have to drag Frostina along. I talked to the sitter on the phone and she is coming by in a few days to meet us. My first impression is that she seems good, so hopefully Frostina will agree when she meets her. I am nervous about leaving her in a new place with a new person so soon, but I think dragging her along looking at houses would be much worse.
There is so much more but I fear this post is long enough already. I will update you lovely readers on all the chaos sometime soon.
Frostina got a horrible cold just before the move. I am now regretting taking her to "just one more" Gymboree class before we left because you know that's where she picked up this particular germ. So for the last two nights in the hotel before we flew to the US she was sleeping between us coughing and choking on her own phlegm.
Then there was the over 9 hour flight to Miami where her ears started bothering her on take-off. After the tears dried she did an amazing job on the plane, a sure sign that we have already taken her on way too many international flights. Thankfully her ears were fine for landing.
Once we landed we were off to our new apartment. Except that no one bothered to tell us that the leasing office closed at 6pm. So picture us rolling up at 9pm and having no access to the complex or the apartment. Seriously people, it sucked. After a few calls to a few people it was determined that we were going to have to find a hotel for the night. Did I mention it's spring break in South Florida? So of course it took a few hotels before we finally found one with a room. It was a total nightmare.
Anyway, that drama over, we are now in our apartment (I almost typed flat here, I think it will take some time to eliminate all the British lingo from my vocabulary). It's nice and safe and clean an Frostina seems to like it now. The first day she paced around crying which was heartbreaking. She is such a trooper but this was just too much for her.
My solution? A trip to Super Target (oh how I have missed that place) for a few new toys and she seems to be doing much better. She is very clingy and cuddly at the moment which is nice but can be a challenge when you're trying to cook dinner and you have a toddler attached to your leg.
Yesterday I had an appointment with my new OB and I am very happy with her. I meet the Perinatologist next week and I am feeling like my care for this pregnancy is on track. Now I have to hope I like the hospital after I set up the tour, because I'm pretty much stuck giving birth there now. I did my research though and based on the recommendation of a local doctor (who is a friend of a friend) I chose this hospital. Then I worked backwards and found my doctor. So based on hospital reputation I should like it,,,, right?
This weekend we start our house hunt. I found a babysitting agency so we don't have to drag Frostina along. I talked to the sitter on the phone and she is coming by in a few days to meet us. My first impression is that she seems good, so hopefully Frostina will agree when she meets her. I am nervous about leaving her in a new place with a new person so soon, but I think dragging her along looking at houses would be much worse.
There is so much more but I fear this post is long enough already. I will update you lovely readers on all the chaos sometime soon.
Tuesday, 25 March 2014
A Fresh Start
In preparation for our big move back to the USA we have been de-cluttering. Going through drawers and dark cupboards throwing away all the things we saved thinking we would want someday. I am amazed at how much clutter a family of 3 can manage to collect.
It can be very freeing to get rid of old stuff. I think we tend to collect it because it feels comfortable and sometimes a clean sweep is just what we need. I love the look of a newly cleaned shelf (with lots of space to buy new stuff to shove there someday). It somehow feels like a fresh start.
All was going well until I stumbled across my trusty Bag O Meds. If you've even done any kind of fertility treatment you will be familiar with this, in fact you may have one of your own. Its the bag you put all your various medications and needles in when you're in the middle of treatment.
I don't consider myself a superstitious person, but getting rid of this bag before I have another healthy baby in the house is hard for me. It almost feels arrogant to assume that just because I'm 22 weeks pregnant that all will be well and I will never need to inject myself with another vial of progesterone in oil again. Obviously that is the dream, but I know all too well that pregnancy can go wrong at any time.
So what to do with the bag and it's contents? US customs and immigration rules are very strict these days. You can't even bring food into the country in your shipment due to new bio-terrorism laws. I'm sure they would make exceptions for medicine, but do I really want to take a chance that our whole shipment will be held up in customs just for a superstition? I could carry it on the plane with me as I have done so many times before when I was in treatment, but with all the other luggage we will have it seems impractical.
When I asked The Hubby for advice he shrugged and said to dump it. He seemed confused at my hesitation. I then reminded him that I didn't get rid of the lupron left over from Frostina's IVF cycle until after she was home from the hospital. In fact, when I dug Bag O Meds out from the garage to stuff it full of medication for the cycle we just did with Baby Olea it still had progesterone and del estrogen bottles in it, expired of course.
So getting rid of it all; the needles, and the alcohol swabs, and the cotton balls, and the bandaids, and the vials of medication, and the injection schedule I got from the clinic; getting rid of it all before Baby Olea is with us is a tough one for me. Because I would rather hold onto it (just in case she says in a whisper).
But holding onto this particular bag in this particular set of circumstances just isn't practical. So I took a deep breath, grabbed a trash bag, and got to work emptying the bag. It was easy and it was hard.
I'd like to say that when it was done I felt more free. That I was happy to have a clean sweep and a fresh start. In reality I have anxiety about it. It's silly I know. If the retention of specific objects could keep babies alive then none of would ever find ourselves in the Baby Loss Mom's Club in the first place. But I found comfort in the ritual.
So now I've just got to move on and try to enjoy my fresh start.
It can be very freeing to get rid of old stuff. I think we tend to collect it because it feels comfortable and sometimes a clean sweep is just what we need. I love the look of a newly cleaned shelf (with lots of space to buy new stuff to shove there someday). It somehow feels like a fresh start.
All was going well until I stumbled across my trusty Bag O Meds. If you've even done any kind of fertility treatment you will be familiar with this, in fact you may have one of your own. Its the bag you put all your various medications and needles in when you're in the middle of treatment.
I don't consider myself a superstitious person, but getting rid of this bag before I have another healthy baby in the house is hard for me. It almost feels arrogant to assume that just because I'm 22 weeks pregnant that all will be well and I will never need to inject myself with another vial of progesterone in oil again. Obviously that is the dream, but I know all too well that pregnancy can go wrong at any time.
So what to do with the bag and it's contents? US customs and immigration rules are very strict these days. You can't even bring food into the country in your shipment due to new bio-terrorism laws. I'm sure they would make exceptions for medicine, but do I really want to take a chance that our whole shipment will be held up in customs just for a superstition? I could carry it on the plane with me as I have done so many times before when I was in treatment, but with all the other luggage we will have it seems impractical.
When I asked The Hubby for advice he shrugged and said to dump it. He seemed confused at my hesitation. I then reminded him that I didn't get rid of the lupron left over from Frostina's IVF cycle until after she was home from the hospital. In fact, when I dug Bag O Meds out from the garage to stuff it full of medication for the cycle we just did with Baby Olea it still had progesterone and del estrogen bottles in it, expired of course.
So getting rid of it all; the needles, and the alcohol swabs, and the cotton balls, and the bandaids, and the vials of medication, and the injection schedule I got from the clinic; getting rid of it all before Baby Olea is with us is a tough one for me. Because I would rather hold onto it (just in case she says in a whisper).
But holding onto this particular bag in this particular set of circumstances just isn't practical. So I took a deep breath, grabbed a trash bag, and got to work emptying the bag. It was easy and it was hard.
I'd like to say that when it was done I felt more free. That I was happy to have a clean sweep and a fresh start. In reality I have anxiety about it. It's silly I know. If the retention of specific objects could keep babies alive then none of would ever find ourselves in the Baby Loss Mom's Club in the first place. But I found comfort in the ritual.
So now I've just got to move on and try to enjoy my fresh start.
Thursday, 20 March 2014
Coming Up For Air
I am deep in moving hell but I wanted to come up for air to give a quick update on what's going on. There are immigration forms to fill out, insurance forms to fill out, customs forms to fill out. I think you get the idea here. Lots and lots of forms. Plus there's the whole, "Nothing electrical will work back in the US so you have to sell it all or give it away before you move," thing. Will someone please buy my tumble dryer???
In the midst of all this, I had my anomaly scan yesterday. I hardly had time to be worried about it with everything else going on. Thankfully, all is well with Baby Olea. There she was, moving and kicking around while the doctor tried to capture all the important data via ultrasound. She was of course shy about showing her face so we didn't get great photos, but really all that matters is that she is ok.
We took Frostina with us and she kept wanting to be up on the table with Mommy. The Hubby tried bribing her with food which worked for a while but she got bored staring at her little sister on the TV screen. I forgot that these scans take longer and I think she did a pretty good job overall.
The big move happens next week. By next Friday we will be in Florida in our temporary apartment. It's surreal to think about. I still haven't had time to properly process this. I'm too busy trying to find a new OB and pediatrician for Frostina. This is tricky since we don't really know where we will be living permanently. But I've got to find someone for both of us pretty quickly.
A few friends have offered to throw leaving parties for us. Or, "Leaving Do," as they call them here in England. I'm sure that's when it will hit me that we are actually leaving.
Wow, we are actually leaving.
In the midst of all this, I had my anomaly scan yesterday. I hardly had time to be worried about it with everything else going on. Thankfully, all is well with Baby Olea. There she was, moving and kicking around while the doctor tried to capture all the important data via ultrasound. She was of course shy about showing her face so we didn't get great photos, but really all that matters is that she is ok.
We took Frostina with us and she kept wanting to be up on the table with Mommy. The Hubby tried bribing her with food which worked for a while but she got bored staring at her little sister on the TV screen. I forgot that these scans take longer and I think she did a pretty good job overall.
The big move happens next week. By next Friday we will be in Florida in our temporary apartment. It's surreal to think about. I still haven't had time to properly process this. I'm too busy trying to find a new OB and pediatrician for Frostina. This is tricky since we don't really know where we will be living permanently. But I've got to find someone for both of us pretty quickly.
A few friends have offered to throw leaving parties for us. Or, "Leaving Do," as they call them here in England. I'm sure that's when it will hit me that we are actually leaving.
Wow, we are actually leaving.
Saturday, 8 March 2014
My "Moving Wife"
Moving is never fun, that's for sure. Moving countries is even more difficult. The nice thing about a corporate move is that there is a whole team dedicated to helping it run smoothly. Once the company flips the switch a hoard of people come out of the woodwork. We have a single point of contact who is at the center of this massive operation. She is like having a wife who specializes in moving. *Side note- I think I would like a wife all the time, it's pretty great.
My "Moving Wife" has really gotten the ball rolling. She has already arranged for the movers and for the relocation agent in Florida. She has contacted and arranged for our temporary housing which is a furnished corporate apartment. She has gotten in touch with the mortgage company we will be working with. She has even arranged for us to have help with disconnecting all our utilities and organizing the final move out cleaning.
My phone has been ringing with all these people contacting me. Dates have been set up and appointments have been made. We now have our move out date (the end of March... Yikes!) and a move in date (well to our temporary house anyway). Our relocation agent has been emailing us properties in the towns we think we want to move to. We have had a call with our mortgage company and are working on getting pre-approved.
All this has been done by my "Moving Wife" in the past 5 days. Amazing!!
Now if only she would come and clear out the clutter that overflows in our house. Then she would be perfect.
My "Moving Wife" has really gotten the ball rolling. She has already arranged for the movers and for the relocation agent in Florida. She has contacted and arranged for our temporary housing which is a furnished corporate apartment. She has gotten in touch with the mortgage company we will be working with. She has even arranged for us to have help with disconnecting all our utilities and organizing the final move out cleaning.
My phone has been ringing with all these people contacting me. Dates have been set up and appointments have been made. We now have our move out date (the end of March... Yikes!) and a move in date (well to our temporary house anyway). Our relocation agent has been emailing us properties in the towns we think we want to move to. We have had a call with our mortgage company and are working on getting pre-approved.
All this has been done by my "Moving Wife" in the past 5 days. Amazing!!
Now if only she would come and clear out the clutter that overflows in our house. Then she would be perfect.
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