Homecoming, A Year On

A year ago today we brought Frostina home from the hospital.

I was still in complete awe, amazed that I actually had a living baby to bring home this time. Coming home with baby in tow was so much better than the time before when I came home empty handed.

The house had gone from being completely lacking in baby things to overflowing with baby things. A sea of pink as I recall. It was a wonderful day even though I was super tired and still sore from my c-section.

A year later and my house is still overflowing with baby things. It never ceases to amaze me at how easily your house can fill up with baby equipment and toys. Some things, like her swing, have already been moved into the garage. So the pile up in there grows as well.

She is still not really crawling but she's an avid cruiser. She only cruises to the right at the moment which is pretty funny. As a solution I have placed chairs and her toys in a circle so she can keep cruising non-stop. Before I came up with my circular "cruising track" I had to keep picking her up and moving her back to the left whenever she reached the end of the line.

I also made the phone call today to have my saline sonogram done. It's one of the prep steps we have to do before we can move forward with trying for rainbow baby number two. As long as my uterus looks clear and healthy then we can take that leap.

A year ago I was staring at my tiny newborn with wonder. Today I stare at my almost toddler with the same wonder. I hope that feeling never goes away.

Just Me And My Frosty (1 Year Later)

A year ago today I went in for a frozen embryo transfer. I had given our little frozen embryo the nickname Frosty because after years of infertility treatments you have to find ways to make things fun. Once we knew Frosty was a girl we changed her nickname to Frostina and that's still her name here on the blog.

I wrote all about that day and my feelings in this post. I was on my own and nervous, but very hopeful that day.

Fast forward to today, 1 year after that transfer and I am sitting here with our little girl in my arms. Well actually, at this very moment she's sleeping in her Daddy's arms,,,, but the point I'm making is that it worked!! I have a real life baby as a result of that frozen embryo transfer.

Somehow, that little embryo we nicknamed Frosty turned into a real life living baby.

1 year ago today I was sent back to my hotel room with a photo of a little embryo.

Today I have this amazing photo to look at.

We did these at Gymboree this week,,,, aren't they the cutest???

She's Hanging In There... I'm Hopeful

Today we had our 31 (almost 32) week scan. I'm so happy and relieved to report that Frostina is doing great! She weighs approximately 3 pounds 13 ounces and once again has a fat belly. She looked super cute on the scan. The Hubby started crying when he saw her in 3D which was so sweet. That started me crying but I quickly stopped because I wanted to make sure I was holding still so the doctor could get all his measurements done.

The most beautiful face I've ever seen.

I can't really explain what a relief this news was. We were extra anxious going into this scan because this was the last good ultrasound we had with my son. This was the point where things went from fine to a total disaster in a matter of weeks. So for us this ultrasound was a HUGE trigger.

I shared all my fears with my doctor who was more than understanding. He told us that there is no comparison between Frostina's scan results and our son's. He even went so far as to show us the comparisons and the measurements aren't even close. He actually said that looking at our son's scans, it was clear to him that there were already growth restrictions. Something that my previous doctor didn't tell us. She told us he was fine, just a bit small.

I'm not trying to say that our previous doctor did anything wrong. My new doctor is looking at these results with the benefit of hindsight which is something none of us had at the time. He was merely trying to point out just how much better our little girl is doing. A fact that makes me feel amazingly happy.

I will see him again in two weeks for another scan and then a week from then for a quick consult and check up. Then if all is still going well we will deliver her on the 8th of June. That's only 5 weeks from this Friday. 

So tonight I am hopeful. Hopeful that things are going to work out this time. Hopeful that Frostina is going to be our take-home rainbow baby. Hopeful that this news can help calm the panic that rises within me from time to time.

Hopeful

Frosty?? Or Frostina??

Today we had our 20 week anomaly scan. To say I was nervous about it is probably the understatement of the year. When I get nervous I get a bit distracted and ditzy. I was so nervous that I started doing stupid things around the house. Like trying to go to sleep with my contact lenses in and putting my yoga pants on backwards. I didn't notice about the yoga pants until hours later when I sat down to pee and noticed the tag was in the front,,, duh!

I just don't look at scans the same way I did last pregnancy. In my naive, happy go lucky mind the biggest worry was if I would get a cute scan photo to share with my family. It never occurred to me that anything could or would go wrong. I was really that sure that I was "all clear" and was taking my son home with me. Oh how things have changed this time around.

So I was hugely relieved to learn that all is well with our little Frosty. My doctor (who does all his own scans) took a long time checking everything out. Everything looks great and baby is measuring well in all categories. I was so relieved to hear that heartbeat that I started crying. Why does this all have to be so scary this time??

Anyway, he asked us if we wanted to know the sex and of course our answer was YES! We have been dying to know if we've got a little Frosty or a little Frostina in there. And of course I have to share this great news with all of you as well. So here goes.

That's me at 20 weeks with a rather large bump if I do say so myself. I sent this photo to my family back home. The only difference being that I included my head in the one I sent to them. : )

That's right people, we're having a girl. The Hubby and I both started crying when we heard the news. I'm absolutely thrilled!! Not that I really cared one way or the other, I just want her to be born alive and healthy. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited at the prospect of shopping for all those adorable little girl clothes.

So from now on, I will be calling her Frostina instead of Frosty! My mother is petrified that we will get attached to this little nickname and actually name her Frostina. I may be a bit crazy from time to time, but I'm not that crazy. Although she will probably always be Frostina here on this blog.

Wow, I'm having a girl. Wow!

Embryo On Board

Today we transferred one grade AA blastocyst. I need to go read up on the different categories but according to my doctor this is good. There are two other embryos that may be eligible for freezing, they will let us know in a day or two about that. But I'm hoping we won't need the frozen ones, I am hoping this one is a keeper.

The hubby and I have talked a lot about how many embryos to transfer. Ultimately we decided that if we had one perfect embryo then that's all we would transfer. The reason is because multiple pregnancies are higher risk. Any pregnancy of mine is already going to be high risk because of the placental issue that caused my son to die at 36 weeks. Add that factor (even though they say it was a fluke and not likely to happen again) to a multiple pregnancy and you're talking super high risk. I know first hand that bad things can happen even in perfect uneventful pregnancies, but we want to try and lower our risk of future losses if possible. Mentally we need to have the lowest risk pregnancy possible. So we're happy with our decision to only transfer one today.

I've been a ball of stress for a couple of days now. I think that somehow when you try not to think about something or stress about something it makes you think about that thing and stress about it even more. At least that's how it works for me. So I was just a bit grumpy and not so pleasant to be around on the ride over. We got to the office with my semi-full bladder and waited. Good thing I wasn't bursting for a pee because we waited about a half an hour after our scheduled time before we finally were called in.

I got up on this table and assumed the position. Giddy up! I've missed those stirrups. In the UK most clinics don't have them and you just have to put your feet on the table and open your knees. We had come into the room using one door and there was another door on the other side of the room. It reminded me of when you go to the vet's office (random thought I know). The doctor comes in the door we used and gets everything ready. Then the embryologist comes in from the other door. That's the door to the lab, where my embryos are. She confirms my identity and the fact that we're only transferring one embryo. Then she leaves.

Once we're all ready the nurse goes back in the lab door and says we're ready. Back comes the embryologist with a long skinny metal thing that is holding our embryo. The procedure itself was not painful at all. It hurt even less than my IUI. It is all over quickly. That is until when they check the skinny metal tube they discover that my stubborn little embryo is still hiding in there. So back into the position I go and they have to do it all over again. This time as we're watching the ultrasound we all see the little thing go in. Well we see something that looks like a worm or line and the nurse who can read ultrasounds tells us that's our embryo going in. Tube checked and the embryo was no longer in it. Second time was the charm I guess.

I'm now on bedrest for the next 24 hours and have to take it easy for a couple more days after that. I'm feeling tired and a bit crampy. I think the crampy is from the procedure today and the tired is a combination of jet lag and the stress leaving my body. So I guess we won't be doing as many of the touristy things in Washington DC like I'd hoped. But that's OK with me. We didn't come here for that. Although we will be going to a baseball game on Friday night.

It's weird to think that there is a little embryo floating around inside me. For the first time in almost a year I have to worry about what I eat and drink again. I need to eat healthy and give up wine not because I'm on some kind of diet or health kick, but because I'm trying to grow a baby in here.

I know that what happens from this point on is mostly out of my hands. I suppose this is where the "faith" part of taking a leap of faith is all about. As George Michael says, "Because I gotta have faith, oh I gotta have faith."

How To Honor His First Birthday?

We are still working out exactly how we want to honor our son's first birthday which is quickly approaching. I can't believe it's almost August 13th again.

I've been putting it off because thinking about it is so terribly painful. In a way I suppose I have been focusing a bit more on our IVF cycle than on my grief. It is easier to think about the future and all it's possibilities than the devastation that happened to us almost a year ago. As I wrote about here, the hubby is worried that we are somehow trying to replace him or that we will forget about him. But I have not forgotten, I am incapable of forgetting.

We have been very private in our grief so a big party is not for us. Plus the family lives in the US and we live in the UK so there's no way to get everyone together even if we wanted to. I think what we will end up doing is lighting a candle and releasing a balloon. Just the two of us.

I'm also toying with the idea of inviting my family and close friends to join in. Not with us in our back garden, but inviting them to release their own balloons. We did not have a memorial service or funeral for our son. It was too much for us. We had a private blessing and released his ashes on our own. It was what we needed at the time but I sometimes feel like we didn't give the rest of the family a way to pay their respects.

So I was thinking that if I let them know what we were doing then they could release their own balloons if they wanted. Or not if they don't.

I was even thinking they could take photos of their balloons and send them to me. Again, only if they wanted to. I could keep all the photos with the other mementos we have of him. That I may someday transfer to a memory book, but for now are all in a filing box. The hubby is a bit unsure about all this, but I'm leaning towards it.

So my lovely readers, what do you think of my idea to allow family and friends to join in?

7 Ways Grief Has Changed Me

This blog is called Finding My New Normal. I started it after my son died to try and sort out my feelings and to try and figure out how to live without him. I've been thinking a lot about how losing my son has changed me. In an effort to find my new normal I think it's important to reflect on what this new me is like. How is she different from the old me?

Do I even like her? I suppose that's a question for a different day.

But for now, here are the 7 ways that losing my son has changed me.

1. I have taken my rose-colored glasses off. I used to surround myself with only positive things. I hated sad books, sad movies, or anything that would make me cry. I never thought that anything bad would or could happen to me. I believed that if you were a good person then only good things would happen to you. I now know that while it's important to be a good person, it won't necessarily protect you from bad things. I also know that just because you only watch funny movies and refuse to read the back of your pregnancy books where they talk about complications and loss, your baby can still die.
2. I am much more compassionate. I never gave much thought to the suffering of others. I don't mean that I didn't care for people or that I didn't feel sad when they suffered loss. It's just that I really didn't understand what they were going through. I figured they would be sad for a while and then get over it. I now know that you never really get over tragedy, you just get better at living with it. I now feel a need to reach out to the people in my life who are in distress. I want them to know that I'm here, that I understand, and that I'm here for them. I think I always felt this way, but I just wasn't very good at doing anything about it before. Now I want to get good at it, so that no one in my life has to suffer alone.
3. I am terrible at follow through. I forget to answer emails, pay bills, and return phone calls. I say I will send something in the mail or book a vacation and then I completely forget. I used to be very reliable and responsible. Now I find that I'm absent minded and if I don't write myself lists I forget things. 
4. I am much more emotional. I've always been one to cry at movies (one of the reasons for item 1) and silly commercials, but I was always very stable emotionally. The old me was very rational and rarely acted out of emotion. I carefully thought things through before I made decisions. But now I'm no longer in control. I feel sad on days when it's really not convenient. I cry in public which is something I would have NEVER done before. Basically, I'm a total mess. 
5. I am much more vulnerable. If you had met me 6 months ago you would have seen a confident, independent, happy person. It took a lot to hurt my feelings or make me angry. I rarely held grudges because for the most part, things just didn't get to me that much. Now I'm the total opposite. If my family doesn't call or email I'm hurt. A couple of family members forgot my birthday this month and it reduced me to tears. I was absolutely crushed that we received so few Christmas Cards this year. These are things that I wouldn't have thought twice about before.
6. I appreciate the positive things in my life. In fairness, I've always been grateful for the things in my life, just not in the same way. I really do have a good life. I have a loving family and a fantastic husband. I get to live in London where I have met some fabulous friends. We get to travel all over Europe and the world. What has changed is the depth to which I appreciate it all. I treasure the things in my life that I have left, because I now know how easy it is to lose it all. In the blink of an eye, or the wave of an ultrasound wand  your whole life can be shattered. 
7. I am a better wife. Well at least I hope I am. Tagging on to item 6, I have come to appreciate my marriage in a way I never thought possible. I now make more of an effort to let him know this, both in my actions and in my words. We have been married for over 12 years and it's easy to get complacent. So the new me is working hard to make sure he knows just how special he is to me. That I would never have gotten through this without him. That he truly is my life. 

I'm sure in time I will come to find many other ways in which I have changed, both for the good and the bad. I can only hope that someday I can look at the new me living my new normal and feel content. I hope I will like this new person I am becoming.

How To Say Thank You?

Courtesy of photos8.com

How do you say thank you to someone who was really there for you in your time of need? Someone who went way above and beyond? Someone who stepped into your life and held your hand in a way you never imagined possible? How do you ever thank them enough?

That's the dilemma I'm trying to sort out at the moment and I need some help.

As I have mentioned before, we live in a different country than our family does. Most of the time it's not a huge deal. We email, chat on facebook, and even talk 'face to face' on Skype. But when tragedy strikes, you really feel the distance.

When we got the news that our son had died and I was going to be delivering him 3 weeks early, stillborn, I felt that distance like I never had before. I don't even know what time it was back in California when I had to make the call to my parents to give them the news. I know that I woke them up though. I could hear the sleepy confusion in their voices as I repeated the news a second time. That phone call that none of us ever want to get. Especially in the wee hours of the morning. Especially so many miles across the Atlantic Ocean. Especially when there's nothing we can do at that moment.

If I'd lived in the US I know that my whole family would have hopped into their cars and rushed to my side. I wouldn't have had to spend that last night of my pregnancy with just my husband. I wouldn't have had to make those first phone calls cancelling my nursery furniture delivery which was scheduled for the next day. The day that I would now be delivering my angel.

So I reached out to a friend here in London for help. I've only been in London for 5 years and I've known this particular friend for less than 2. But I made the call because there were things that needed to be done and I didn't have the strength to do them. When I called her I simply asked her to do a couple of things for me. I needed her to call the shop where I bought the nursery furniture and find out if I could cancel the order and get a refund. I also asked if she could call the shop where I got some of the other large items like the baby buggy (stroller) and baby swing and find out if those items could be returned even though I had taken them out of the box and put them together. For me it wasn't so much about the refund as it was about trying to figure out what to do with the items. I figured that if I had that information, then once I got home from the hospital, I could start figuring out what to do with everything else.

What she did next was nothing short of amazing. Not only did she contact the stores for me, but she made arrangements for the items to be both collected from my house and refunded. I addition she organized a few of my friends to go over to my house to box everything up and get it sent back before I got home. She scoured the high street for spare boxes to put the items in and then helped to pack them up. She supervised as my friends combed through my place, removing all traces of baby items. I can't imagine having to come home empty handed to a house full of baby things, so this step was especially welcomed.

She emptied my fridge of unwanted left-overs before they spoiled. She called to cancel my house cleaners, hair appointments, a pedicure, and even my bikini wax. You see, I had made all those appointments in preparation for the birth and to have to cancel them would have been absolute torture for me.

But she didn't stop there. A couple of days after I gave birth, my mother came over to help with my recovery. My wonderful friend also stepped in to help my Mom out. She walked my Mom through the online grocery delivery website, helped her find the hospital that we were staying at, and even called to check in on her from time to time. The two of them took turns waiting on the delivery men to come and take away all the baby gear. But it was my friend who was the driving force behind everything. She stepped in the way a family member would.

And remember, this is someone I've only known for a couple of years. Someone who is a wife and mother of two small boys. Someone who has a very busy life but somehow managed to make time to be there for me when I needed it most.

I thanked her profusely at the time, but now I'm feeling like that wasn't enough. But how to do you properly thank someone for doing something so amazing? Is it possible to thank her enough? Nothing I could ever say would ever express how much what she did meant to me and my family. But I want to do something. So here's what I've come up with and I'd love your input.

My Ideas 

Send her flowers

Gift Certificate to a lovely restaurant

Gift Certificate at a local cinema

Gift Certificate for a spa day

Or are those things all to ordinary? It's not really about spending a lot of money or not a lot of money, I just want to do something special for her. Something that shows her how much I appreciate what she did for me this past summer. 

As I said, I welcome your input and suggestions. Thanks in advance.

If I Had an Anonymous Blog

Today's blog dare prompt is this, what would post about if your blog was anonymous? Would it be the same as your current blog? Could you let loose and and write more about what it on your mind?

Well since my blog is anonymous this is an easy one for me to answer. I blog anonymously specifically so that I can be as honest as I want to be. In real life I'm the kind of person who loves to share the positive things and tends to keep the negative things to myself. I've never been a complainer, I've never been the kind of person who needs other people to lean on in times of trouble. I deal with most of the negative things in private, with my husband. I keep my happy public face on at all times. I hate to cry in front of other people (except my husband of course) and I don't usually reach out and ask others for help.

But losing my son is simply too much for me to bear. I can't just do it myself. I can't deal with it alone. It bursts out of me when I least expect it. I cry in public now, I cry in front of friends and strangers. But I hate it. For some reason, I still feel the need to put on a good public face. It's exhausting most of the time but I just can't turn into someone I'm not. I'm not brave enough to share my real grief with the people I know and love. I know that sounds crazy, but I just need them to think I'm strong. I can't allow myself to let them see how sad and vulnerable I really am. I don't know why I'm like this, but I am and I've come to accept it.

So I blog without telling my name. Here I can let it all out without worrying that people in my real life will think I'm losing my mind. Here I can talk about the people in my life who have let me down. Here I can express my grief in a way that I just can't do anywhere else. I know it's the Internet and I'm releasing my innermost feelings in a very public way, but somehow it feels safe.

Safer than trying to express these feelings with my friends. It's not that they won't listen or care, but sometimes it's just too hard to see the looks of horror on their faces. Watching them absorb my story, the story that is probably their greatest fear, the fear of losing a child. Watching that look reminds me that my new normal is still completely alien to them. They don't live in the world of dead babies. The world where you pick up ashes and have blessings at a church. The world where you have to deal with an empty room that should have been a nursery. The world where nothing is safe anymore.

But here, I have found many people who walk this path alongside me. It's an awful path, but it's ours and we're doing our best to try and navigate through it.

So that's why I blog anonymously. I get to have a safe place where I can work through my loss, and I still get to have some semblance of my old normal life. I really think I need both to stay sane.

Phew, that felt a lot like a therapy session. : )

2010- The Things I am Thankful For

I've been doing some thinking since I posted this item  yesterday. Even though 2010 ended up being the worst year of my life, it wasn't all bad. So for the sake of balance, I want to add this entry.

I am so thankful for my husband. I always knew I picked a good one and living our experience has made me realize just how lucky I am to have him. Tragic events can either drive a couple apart or bond them forever. In our case, it's cemented the bond we already knew we had. He is my life, and even if we never have a living child,  my life will be complete because he's a part of it.

I am thankful that I finally got to be pregnant and carry a baby to term. I loved feeling my dear son wriggling and kicking inside me. I loved the way he kicked me every time I tried to sleep on my left side as if to say, "Roll over Mom, you're making me uncomfortable." I am thankful for the joy and love our baby boy brought into our lives. The joy and love we felt when he was growing inside me is like none I've ever experienced. I am thankful that we got to experience that, even though in the end we did not have a happy ending.

I wouldn't change being pregnant with my beloved son for anything,,, I'd just change the ending.

So there you go, even in a totally crappy year there are still some things to be thankful for.

Post Mortem Results- The Outcome

On Saturday we had our meeting to get the final post mortem results. It's a day met with both anticipation and fear. Of course, I wanted to know why my son was taken away from me a few weeks short of his due date; but at the same time I was scared at what the report might say. Would it uncover some horrible mistake I made along the way? Would it conclude that the whole thing was my fault? Would the report indicate something that would prevent me from carrying any child to term. Would the doctor say that we have no hope of ever having a child of our own?

A couple of days before our appointment, my husband asked me if I was prepared for the answer. He was concerned that if the report indicated something that I may interpret as my fault that I would never forgive myself. I lied and assured him that I could handle whatever the report said. Of course I would blame myself if the report indicated I had done something wrong. But there was no way I was not going to find out. So I told him what I think he wanted to hear. I'm not sure he believed me by the way, but I think it was important for him to at least bring up the subject for discussion.

So here it is.... our baby died because his placenta failed to do it's job. Somewhere along the line, the placenta stopped working properly. It didn't grow a large as it should have and due to some inflammation, it was unable to provide enough oxygen and nutrients to my son. According to the report, it was going on for some time and ultimately, my precious son just wasn't able to survive. None of our ultrasounds gave any indication that anything was wrong and apparently it's not something that they can really see on the scan anyway. They can't completely rule out an infection but since there was no sign of it in either the placenta or my son, that's probably not what it was.

I have mixed emotions of course. I now know what happened. I also know that it wasn't my fault. There's nothing I could have done to prevent this from happening. But my son is still dead. It wasn't obvious at any of my scans. All his measurements were perfect so there's no way the doctors could have seen it either. But I didn't get to bring him home from the hospital in his car seat and put him to sleep in his moses basket like I had planned. It's also not something that is likely to happen in future pregnancies (if I am ever so lucky to have another pregnancy). If I am fortunate enough to have another chance, I would be monitored and watched like a hawk. But this information doesn't bring him back and that's all I really want.

I got home that night and allowed myself an evening of red wine and lots of tears. Why did my body fail me? Why did this have to happen to my son? Why, why, why????

My husband was crying as well, but his tears were mostly for me. His heart is breaking to see me so devastated. He's a solution guy and he wants to be able to fix this, to fix me so I can be happy again. I remind him that this isn't something that he can just fix. I also remind him that I am having more happy days and happy moments (I know it may not seem that way based on reading my blog posts but it really is true) and that it's just going to take me some time. I know deep down he understands this, but it's just really hard for him to watch me suffer like this. I think if he could, he would take away all my pain and bear the whole burden himself. I got really lucky when I married him, he's a very special man. And for that I am eternally grateful.

P.S. Just as I was writing this I got a call from my fertility clinic. They just wanted to follow up to see how my pregnancy had gone and update their records with the outcome. Talk about being kicked when I'm down!

Blessings and white teeth.

Yesterday contained an interesting combination of events. I suppose in a way it quite fits in with my idea of having a new normal. In the morning I had an appointment to get my teeth whitened. This is something I do every couple of years when I'm visiting home. I know they have dentists in London who whiten teeth, but no one lightens them up quite like an American dentist. Since I'm obsessed with white teeth, this is a must for me!

Then in the afternoon we had an appointment with a priest to have our son's ashes blessed. As a pretty much non-practicing catholic, church is not a place I usually visit outside of Christmas and Easter (OK, being honest I don't always make it even then.). So driving up to the church I went to as a child and also where we got married felt a bit odd. I have to say, there was something so familiar and wonderful about the experience. Of course it was sad, but I also had this overwhelming feeling that we were doing the right thing. The church is on a cliff overlooking the ocean so the priest had us sit outside on a bench and watch the sun set while we were having our talk. It was both beautiful and sad and I'm really glad we did it.

So that was my strange day, a combination of ceremony and vanity. Oh, and in case you were wondering,,, my teeth look great!