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!

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.

When The Shoe Is On The Other Foot

As most of you know, The Hubby and I struggled with infertility for YEARS before finally giving birth to Frostina. As most of my friends were having their first babies, I was struggling with infertility. As these same friends went on to have second and even third babies, I was struggling with infertility.

I still vividly remember buying new baby gifts and bursting into tears in the mall afterwards. I can remember having a panic attack on the way to meet a new friend's baby. I can even remember crying so hard on the way to a party at a newly pregnant friend's house that we had to turn around and go home.

I had my "brave face" down pat. I knew just how to smile and say congrats even when my heart was breaking. I knew just the right gift to bring to the baby shower even though my heart ached to be able to be shopping for my own baby. I don't think most people had any idea that I was suffering so badly.

Then I got pregnant with my son, and he died, and it all got much worse. Though now people knew I was suffering so I wasn't expected to have my "brave face" on as much. I was able to bow out of baby showers without even making an excuse, so I suppose that was a bit of an improvement (insert sarcasm here).

I've always been the one who didn't have children. I've always been the one who couldn't get pregnant. Then I turned into the lady whose baby died. The person who everyone tiptoed around, worried they would say the wrong thing. Bad things always happened to me while everyone around me had easy pregnancies with living babies in the end.

Lately though, things have turned around a bit and I am finding myself in uncharted territory. As I mentioned here before, two close friends have had miscarriages. They happened within a few weeks of each other and I didn't even know they were pregnant at the time. They didn't know I was pregnant either as it turns out because we were all in the early weeks of our first trimester.

So when it came time to announce my pregnancy to everyone I was not sure how to handle things. I can't even count how many times I've been the one to receive this kind of news after a failed fertility cycle or after a loss. But I've never been the person with the happy news trying to be sensitive to the person suffering a loss. It is a very unfamiliar place to be, and I want to make sure I handle it well.

I decided to email each of them personally before I posted the news on facebook. In each email I shared my sadness about their loss and explained that I didn't want them to be blindsided by my announcement. They both know my history, so when I said that I know where they are and how it feels I think they knew I was coming from a good place.

I got great response from them both. I think they were surprised that I reached out, but they both seemed very grateful that I had. They have both been very positive and supportive towards me. It seems that I am not the only one who is good at the "brave face."

Now I've just got to be sensitive in navigating through this pregnancy. They are both in Frostina's playgroup so I see them often. I want to be sure that it never seems like I'm bragging or flaunting my pregnancy. I will try to temper the new baby talk when they are around so as not to be insensitive.

Basically, I am now doing all the things people did around me. It feels so strange to have the shoe on the other foot. It's not a place I ever thought I would be.

*It goes without saying that as a BLM, I know that this pregnancy is not guaranteed. I know that things could change in a flash and I could be right back where I started. I know full well that thisshoe could pop itself back on it's more familiar foot. So please don't take this as cavalier or assuming that now that I'm pregnant it's all roses and butterflies.

The One Where I Reveal The Gender

We got our Harmony test results back and all is well with Baby Oleo, no genetic abnormalities.

Woo Hoo, what a relief. You gotta love 24 year old eggs!! Thank you anonymous 24 year old egg donor!

We also found out that Baby Oleo is a....... GIRL!

That's right, a girl. I was absolutely 100% positive she was a boy so that shows you how much I know. The Hubby has resigned himself to a house full of women.

I told Frostina she was going to have a baby sister and she replied by laughing and running away from me. She really has no idea what's going on and what's to come.

So now I figure we can't call her Baby Oleo here since Oleo sounds like a boys name. So I guess we'll go with Baby Olea. I considered Olina but it sounds too much like Olean which is that stuff in fat free food that makes you poop if you eat too much of it. So that's out.

Now we have to figure out what to call her in real life. I can't find our baby name book so I guess I'll have to get another one. Wow, we're picking names for another baby. There were so many days when I never thought we would be here again. 

Come on Baby Olea, please be born alive and healthy.

The Pregnancy **After** The Pregnancy After Loss

A lot is written about pregnancy loss and almost as much is written about pregnancy after a loss. I've done quite a bit of writing about it here and on various other pregnancy loss blogs, grief blogs, and on BlogHer about this very subject and I've done a bunch of reading on the topic as well. I suppose you could say I've become a bit of an expert on the subject. Not that this a subject that anyone wants to know intimately, but sadly that's how things have happened for me.

We hear about the shock and horror of the initial loss and the complete and utter devastation it leaves in it wake. We cheer for these women as they struggle to pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and put the pieces back together.

We read about their subsequent pregnancies with trepidation. We leave encouraging comments for them and wish them all the best. We wait with anticipation for them to be blessed with their rainbow babies. Those amazing and precious babies that come after a loss. We are so relieved for them when we know that they have finally had their "happy ending."

But what about the pregnancy after that?

I've just begun to navigate my way through the pregnancy after the pregnancy after loss. I wasn't expecting it to feel any different than my previous pregnancy, but it does. Last time around my experience was that every time I get pregnant, my baby dies at 36 weeks. I had no other alternative in my head. My only experience of pregnancy was of tragedy and loss.

I now know what it feels like to have experienced both sides of the coin. One pregnancy where my baby died and my life was shattered. Another pregnancy where my baby was born alive and healthy. One ride home from hospital with empty arms crying into my husbands chest. And another pregnancy where I rode home with my beautiful daughter and struggled to figure out how to get the car seat to latch into the car.

Last pregnancy I was "sure" that things would go wrong. This time I'm more hopeful. I'm less fearful. I'm able to think ahead and start looking for double buggies (strollers). Not to buy one of course, because that would be tempting fate. But at least I've allowed myself to do the research. You have no idea what a big step that is. If you've been around for a while you will remember that I didn't allow anything in my house for Frostina until after she was born.

It's not all goodness and light though. I certainly haven't reverted back to the person I was during my first pregnancy. The person who just knew that once I had my 12 week scan and all was well that I was for sure going to be bringing home a healthy baby in the end. I know all too well that there are no guarantees in life.

I know full well that even if you are a Baby Loss Mom, you don't get a free pass for all future pregnancies. One of my fellow BLM's just had her baby after her rainbow baby and it was not all smooth sailing. She had some complications right near the end that nearly resulted in another terrible loss. If it weren't for her absolute insistence that something wasn't right, and her brilliant doctor who followed her gut, things may have ended badly. Thankfully, all is well and she was able to take her beautiful daughter home with her.

I have a 50/50 history with pregnancies, which is much better than the 100% fail rate I had last time. I know those odds still look pretty grim to those of you who don't live in a world where babies die. But from where I'm sitting they offer hope. I have now lived the happy ending, and I want it again. More importantly, I believe I can have it again. That's a huge mind set change from last time around.

I have no idea if I will feel this way throughout this pregnancy. It's entirely possible that as Baby Oleo's due date approaches, all the old fears and paranoia will return. All I know is that this pregnancy is different than the last one, and I feel differently about it. It will be interesting to reflect on just how different it is as time goes on.

Have any of you been through this? If so, how did you feel during your pregnancy and how was it different than the one before? Oh, and what do you call the baby after your rainbow baby? Are they a rainbow baby as well?

Baby Oleo

I know I have been a bit more lax about writing these days. Not just in frequency, but in depth. I am so distracted with Frostina that I don't have as much time in the day to really sit down and write. By the time she goes to bed I'm so tired that all I want to do is eat dinner and veg in front of the TV.

I feel bad because I really love this space. It was my lifeline in the early days of grief and became a huge support during my pregnancy with Frostina. It's weird how something that was so important to me has become something that I have cast aside. I don't know exactly how it happened, but I don't seem to need it as much.

But I still want it, so I'm going to try harder.

I'm going to begin with a confession. I feel awful that I haven't given this new baby a blog name. Frostina had her name before conception and this poor little one is still nameless. They do say that your second (living) baby doesn't get as much attention as your first (living) baby. I wonder if this is the beginning of that? Who knew that second (living) baby syndrome could start so early???

Naming Frostina was easy. She was my frozen embryo who we called Frosty until we figured out she was a girl. That's when we started calling her Frostina. This baby was from a fresh cycle and somehow "Freshie" doesn't have the same ring as "Frosty." I'd love to come up with something clever but alas, my clever gene seems to be in remission at the moment.

So I'm going to use the name we have been using at home, "Baby-Oleo." Why Baby-Oleo you ask? Well you see, when Frostina gets really excited about something we are going to give her (mostly food) she says ole-ole-oh a bunch of times. It's really cute and we like to copy her.

So when we found out I was pregnant I joked by saying "ole-ole-oh." Then I figured out that oleo rhymes with embryo (well sort of). So we started calling him/her Embry-oleo. That got shortened to oleo at some point and at the moment we're mostly using the name "Baby-Oleo."

I suppose that if Baby Oleo ends up being a girl that we will have to find a girly modification. But for now I'm sticking with Baby Oleo. Not as cute and clever as Frostina I suppose. But there you have it.

Feeling Rough

I am officially 11 weeks pregnant today. I apologise for the lack of posts but I have been feeling ROUGH. The nausea and extreme exhaustion seem to be worse this time around. Either that or I have just forgotten how horrible the first trimester can be. I suspect it may be a bit of both. I think Mother Nature makes you forget about some of this stuff so you will have more kids.

I'm off all my medications now.

Hooray!

Up until last week I was still doing estrogen injections every third day and progesterone suppositories (yuck) twice a day. I am so glad to not have to inject myself with needles or stuff something up my butt everyday. If you haven't been through this you probably can't relate, but if you have then you know what a huge milestone this is. 

It's so much harder to manage early pregnancy when you have a toddler to chase around. Frostina has no empathy for poor Mommy. I actually feel pretty bad for her. The poor kid has been trapped inside with me for way too long.

There was a stretch where we didn't leave the house for almost a week. The poor kid kept bringing me my shoes and her shoes (a sign that she wanted to go out). When that didn't work she started bringing me her coat and my coat... that she somehow managed to wrangle off the coat rack.

So luckily on babysitter day (my one day a week where I have childcare) we had good weather and she could go out. I've never seen her so happy to put her shoes on and leave Mommy in the dust. No separation anxiety, no clinging to my leg. It was "See you later Mommy,,,, I'm going out!"

Next week we have our next scan. I'm still negotiating the dates because of course The Hubby is going to be out of town on the day I originally scheduled. The office has been mostly closed over the holidays so I haven't been able to confirm the date change yet. Here in the UK pretty much everything shuts down from December 24th until January 4th or 5th which is sooooo frustrating.

I'm impatient. I just want to take another peek to make sure everything is OK with this little one. I probably won't get a call from the doctor until Monday which sucks.

Please let everything be ok.

One Perfect Heartbeat

What lovely words I've just typed as the title to this post.

One perfect heartbeat.

That's what The Hubby and I saw at our ultrasound today. Well actually what we saw was a fuzzy blob with a dense center that was flickering like crazy. Since this isn't our first pregnancy, we knew instantly that our little embryo was officially viable.

What an amazing feeling.

So here we go again. Our third pregnancy. Our second pregnancy after a devastating loss. Do they call the second pregnancy after a loss a rainbow baby too? Maybe that's just for the first one.

I feel very different than I did when I was pregnant with Frostina. I just went back and looked at my blog post after this same ultrasound and I realize that I am in a very different place now.

Obviously I have Frostina to chase around and keep me too busy to obsess about every little detail. But the biggest difference is that I'm not nearly as terrified. Of course I know all to well that things can and do go wrong. Of course I know just how devastating that can be. Yet somehow, I am able to be optimistic. In spite of everything, I feel hopeful, and that's something I was unable to feel at this early stage with Frostina's pregnancy.

So I hope that's progress. And obviously I hope and pray that everything continues to go well with this pregnancy. I hope and pray that in July of 2014 we are able to bring this baby home to join our little family. I hope and pray for take-home baby number two!

I hope and pray.

The Heart Says Yes

A while back I wrote about my struggle to figure out if I'm brave enough to try for another baby. Am I strong enough to put myself, and The Hubby, back to into such a vulnerable place?

A place where we could be blessed with another living child. A place where we could also have another loss. A place where we have to have faith and patience. A place where we have to be optimistic in the face of fear.

We have been there before and have our precious Frostina as a result, but will we have the same happy outcome again?

Being a logical person, it can be difficult for me to stop strategizing and start feeling. As we all know, there is nothing logical about wanting children. It's much more primal than that. We are programmed with the desire to have them, or not to have them.

Do you have 1 child, do you have 2, do you have more than that? These decisions are often more of a gut feeling than anything else. There isn't a formula for the perfect family size. I think you just know when you're there.

As I've stated before, I'm not always good at listening to my gut feelings. So for me, these kinds of decisions take time. I have to stop thinking about it and wait for my heart to speak to me. That's what I've been doing and my heart finally answered loud and clear.

 

The heart says yes.

Silly Braxton Hicks

We had a bit of fun at Casa de New Normal last night. If your idea of fun is having contractions and calling the labor ward at 1am. Before I go any further let me assure you that I am not in labor. But I did think I was for a little bit last night.

I had a night out with the girls at a local pub last night. I got home around 10:30 and was in bed by 11. I had been feeling good all day, just a bit stiff after having to sit in a booth at the pub for so long. I laid down to relax and Frostina had a good stretch and kick session. We were both relieved to be laying down I think.

I was almost asleep when I felt the tightening in my stomach. Braxton Hicks contractions I assumed. I have been getting them from time to time, almost always when I'm in bed. But these were different. For one, they made me have to use the toilet (sorry TMI but it wasn't pee). They also didn't go away in 2 or 3 minutes like they usually do. I had pain in my upper back and my whole belly was contracting.

I got out of bed and tried walking around to get them to stop. That usually works with my BH contractions. This time it didn't work. By this time I was feeling the contractions in my upper belly and they were making me feel nauseous. I started to wonder if maybe it was my dinner. Was the fish in my fish and chips bad? Was I in actual labor???

That thought stopped me in my tracks. Was I in actual labor? I never had BH contractions in my last pregnancy and since I delivered via C-section I never had any contractions. Maybe this was what they felt like. Why didn't I pack my hospital bag this weekend like I promised The Hubby I would do? At this point I decided I should probably wake up The Hubby,,,, you know in case we had to head down to the hospital or something.

I went into the bedroom and woke him up. He was actually pretty calm considering I woke him up to tell him I was having some sort of contractions and we might be having a baby tonight. His first response was to scold me for not packing my hospital bag. I knew that was coming and I deserved it. But I hate when he gets to be the one to say "I told you so." It goes against the natural order of husband and wife things. "I told you so" is sooooo my line. But I digress.

I dug out the number for the labor ward that I got when I met with the midwives a few weeks ago. I called and explained all my symptoms. She asked all the important questions including if my waters had broken (no), if I had a show (no), and if the baby was still moving (yes). The very nice and very calm midwife said it sounded like braxton hicks and apparently it's not uncommon for them to make you nauseous. She advised me to take some paracetamol (Tylenol) and try to sleep. If they didn't get better than to call back.

So I took the pain relief and got back in bed. The contractions eased almost immediately. Not from the pills I'm guessing but because I felt much more calm after talking to the midwife. I wonder how many calls they get a night from people like me? I was able to fall asleep within a half an hour. So obviously not real labor, because we all know that taking two paracetamols (Tylenol) wouldn't touch real labor pain.

I have an appointment with my doctor today so I can discuss this whole incident with him. Plus it's a scan so I get to see Frostina again!

So Close,,,,

I had another scan this week and all is going well with Frostina. I've been so worried about her lately so this was a huge relief. I'm finding these last few weeks very difficult. She is still in a funny position, transverse and breech. This means her head is above my left hip bone and her feet are near her head. One in front of her face and one behind it. My doctor isn't sure how she managed that, he called her an acrobat.

He did the measurements and said she is growing well. She's estimated to be over 5 pounds at this point which is up a over a pound from two weeks ago. I've gained 3 pounds since 2 weeks ago so it's nice to see that at least one of those went to her. She still has a fat belly which I love. He spent some time checking out her internal organs and I got to watch her doing some practice breathing. Not that I could really tell what I was looking at, but I took his word for it.

He also mentioned that she has a full head of hair. I found this fact interesting since my son was born completely bald. When I called to tell The Hubby he laughed. He said, "She's got a fat belly and lots of hair,,, she must get that from me." I got a good laugh out of that one too.

We're so close and yet so far away. I just don't want a repeat of last time, when everything was taken from us at 36 weeks.

Kind of like that Charlie Brown cartoon where he runs to kick the football and Lucy takes it away at the last minute and he ends kicking the air and falling on his back. I feel like that. Like I'm getting ready to run at the football again for a kick and hoping Lucy doesn't take it away at the last minute. I need to kick that football this time, to feel my foot make contact and watch it fly into the air. Like Charlie Brown, I am trying to have faith that Lucy will fulfil her promise this time, but I won't know for sure until I start running towards it.

Lucky for me, my doctor is doing his best to reassure me at every turn. I will be monitored weekly from here. Scan this week, appointment next week where we do some blood and urine tests and also get a peek at our little girl. Then a scan the week after. And then an appointment and a delivery the week after that.

If you were counting those weeks you will realize what I did,,,, only 3 weeks to go. Yikes!

Three weeks until our delivery date. It hardly seems real. I think that's mostly due to the fact that I rarely allow my mind to go there. To that place where she is born healthy and alive and we get to take her home. I mostly force my mind to stay in the now. I allow myself to plan the next few weeks from a practical perspective and try to keep it at that.

Trying not to get my hopes up too much. As if that would really protect me if things went wrong. As if I have some sort of control over things. As if!

Just Something Else I'll Never Know

Sometimes I feel like things are back on track. In the year and 7 months since my son died and was born I've done a pretty good job coming to terms with his loss. It's not been easy, especially since I'm pregnant again, but I'm managing. But then, every now and then, something hits me out of the blue that knocks me back down again.

It can be anything really. There are lots of triggers out there. But for some reason it's the things I'll never know that get me the most. I could go through the whole list, but my heart can't take writing that kind of post right now. I'll save that for another day when I'm not feeling quite so vulnerable. Perhaps after Frostina is born happy and healthy and I'm not so worried that I also won't know those things about her. So for now I'm going to put that list aside and get back on topic.

I was chatting with a friend over lunch this week and she was asking about my pregnancy. As I was filling her in on some things the waitress came over and asked if we wanted dessert. After we both said no, I mentioned to my friend that it's probably better if I taper down on my sugars for a while as I'm pretty sure I'll be having my gestational diabetes test sometime soon. That got us on the subject of all the blood tests and injections you have to endure when you're pregnant and how you end up feeling like a human pincushion.

I mentioned in passing that I'm almost due for my anti-d injection. She had no idea what I was talking about and asked what that was. I went on to explain to her that I have an RH-negative blood type and if you have that then your body can create anti-bodies to your baby if he/she has an RH-positive one.

I went on to explain how before they knew about this, babies used to die sometimes as a result of the Mother's immune system thinking the baby was some kind of virus. So now, they give you the anti-d injections as a way to prevent your body from building up any kind of antibodies that can hurt your baby. If the baby is also RH-negative then you won't build up the antibodies, but since they have no way of knowing until after the birth, they give everyone the injections as a precaution. **I am not a doctor so please don't think that I'm any kind of expert on this kind of thing. This is just my understanding of things.


That made me think about my first pregnancy with my son. "You know," I said to her, "I don't know what blood type my son had."

It's not something I've ever wondered about before. Now that I'm pregnant again I suppose it's relevant though. Did the anti-d injections I had in my last pregnancy save me from building up antibodies against this one? Was my son RH-negative like I am? Or was he RH-positive like The Hubby? As I was at a lunch with friends I quickly let the question slip out of my mind and I went on with my day.

For some reason I woke up thinking about this question this morning. One of many questions I have about my son, who will never grow up and help me answer them. There was only one place I could think of to check for the answer. His post mortem report. Not an easy read by any account, but I felt compelled to give it a go. So I dug it out and read through it for probably only the second or third time ever.

It's a completely heartbreaking thing to read, even though I don't understand half of it with all the medical speak it contains. I scoured the entire document with it's charts and figures, but no mention of his blood type. It seems like a strange thing to leave off. I mean, they have the weights and measurements of all his organs, but no blood type?

So basically, I tortured myself with reading in detail about how my son died and didn't get the answer to my question. Nice way to spend a Saturday afternoon! I had a small breakdown after that. Not because it's so important for me to know what his blood type was, but because it's just one more thing I don't know about him.

One more item to add to the list that I'm not ready to write yet.

Just something else I'll never know.

She's Pregnant Too- Oh Joy!

Somehow I knew this would happen.

I'm slowly starting to tell people that I'm pregnant. Last time around I just posted a big announcement on facebook because I figured it was the fastest and easiest way to let everyone know at once. This is especially helpful since I live in a different country than my family and many of my friends. This time around I'm not quite ready to make that big of an announcement just yet. So instead I've been emailing small groups of people and letting them know.

I decided to share the info with a few friends who I know through an organization I'm in. These women all live here in London. One of these women was pregnant at the same time as I was last time. Our due dates were 4 weeks apart. Her son lived,,,, mine did not. She was amazingly supportive at the time and has continued to be a good friend to me. She's not someone I see regularly, but we do get together from time to time.

I have never met her son for reasons I've written about before. It's just too painful to even imagine it. Her son, a living breathing reminder of what I don't have. These two boys who should have been friends and playmates. We have never spoken about the fact that I have yet to meet him. In a way I suppose it's just understood. Either that or she is totally clueless and I'm giving her way too much credit.

Immediately after sending the email my phone rang. It was her calling to congratulate me. She was crying, which made me cry. She wanted me to know just how happy she is for me. I was telling her how sick I've been and apologized for missing a few things on our organization's calendar. She then said to me that she had also missed them because she was sick too.

An alarm went off in my head.

No, it couldn't be..... could it??

So I asked her, "Are you pregnant too?"

"Yes," she said.

Holy crap!! *I didn't say that out loud of course but I was thinking it. 

Instead I offered my congratulations. I said to her that I couldn't believe our timing was the same again. Then I asked how far along she was and she told me that she is 14 weeks.

Holy crap!! *Again, I didn't say this out loud.

As it turns out, our due dates are 3 days apart this time. So we get to be pregnant together again. Oh joy! She even suggested that we start doing pregnancy yoga together like we did last time. Oh joy!

I am of course happy for her, but I'm less than thrilled to be sharing another pregnancy with her. I didn't want to share this pregnancy with any of my friends (I know,,, selfish of me) because I know how it feels when things go wrong. The strain it can put on a friendship. But I especially didn't want to be sharing this pregnancy with either of the two friends I shared it with the last time.

It's all too painfully familiar. Flashbacks of last time around. The two of us with our baby bumps spending time together. Making plans for playdates. Remembering the look on her face when she came to visit me after my son died. Still pregnant and glowing, with puffy eyes from crying. There was a fear behind her smile. I know she was just hoping that it wouldn't happen to her too. Yet she still came to see me, fear and all.

I don't want to go there again. I don't want to remember how that time felt. More importantly, I don't want to re-live that experience. I'm already scared enough this pregnancy. Another loss would be crushing, but to have to watch her have another baby after another loss would just be too much. I realize that I'm doing worst case scenario here,,,, but when you've actually lived the worst case it seems much less far-fetched.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but I'm not happy about it at all. I will do my best to get over myself because there's nothing I can do at this point. 

I wonder if I'm going to get a call or email from my other friend who was pregnant with me the last time announcing her pregnancy?? That would be just my luck wouldn't it?

*Pouring my heart out with Shell at http://www.thingsicantsay.com

One Heartbeat!

Today was our first ultrasound and we have a heartbeat!!



As I wrote yesterday, I was freaking out about this scan. Freaking out a lot! I was up until 2am because I couldn't sleep. So to see that heartbeat was such a relief.

The hubby and I were both nervous wrecks today. You could see the nervousness on our faces as we waited for my name to be called. Once we were called in and the scan began it got even worse. I could barely breathe as the nurse slipped Mr Wandy (who was wearing his rubber glove again) in to take a look.

Immediately I saw something, and told myself that was good. A let out a little breath at that point. The nurse then showed us around. I didn't really hear anything until she said, "And there's the heartbeat." At this point I started crying and shaking so then she couldn't see anything until I held still again. She checked out the blood flow and all the rest of the stuff and told us all looks well.

The hubby had been squeezing my hand the whole time and it's at this point that I realized his hand was shaking. He was crying too, which made me cry even harder. So there we were, both crying hysterically in the ultrasound room. Only this time they were happy tears. Such a difference from the last ultrasound we had.

So I'm officially 7 weeks pregnant. Estimated due date June 30th 2012 which seems like a lifetime from now.

I just hope and pray that this baby decides to stay for the long haul and is able to come home with us in June. I also hope that the hubby and I don't have nervous breakdowns during this pregnancy!