Positively Negative!

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I keep finding it incredibly difficult to write anything here. The days are fluid and run seamlessly into each other. To boot, I’m feeling fantastically dramatic.

Updates? Ok. This Thursday will be my post op ultrasound appointment to see how well the septum resection went. We’re hoping for a uterine septum under 6 mm. Here’s hoping! Another medical funzie decided to enter my life as well… I have been having heart palpitations regularly. After wearing a heart monitor and a trip to the ER, my doctor said that I have PVC’s (premature ventricular contractions), which apparently are totally normal and need no treatment. However, during that field trip to the ER, we learned my D-Dimer is elevated, which means my blood is super thick and there could be a potential blood clot somewhere. After some research, there is a correlation in an elevated D-Dimer with an MTHFR factor. Without going into gobs of details, having an MTHFR factor can cause your D-Dimer to be elevated. There’s also a lot of medical mumbo jumbo that specifically says if you have an MTHFR factor and an elevated D-Dimer, your chance of miscarriage is over 99%. Fantastic.

Sooooooo… where do we go from here? The million dollar question. I’ve had one period since the surgery and have to have two more periods before trying to conceive again. So, we’re looking at trying to conceive in the beginning of November. With the new news of the elevated D-Dimer and the MTHFR, I have to talk to both my gyno and my RE and see what they propose we do. According to what I’ve read, even being on blood thinners isn’t going to help–Still a very slim chance of carrying a baby to term. Typically, with my blood cocktail, babies doesn’t survive past 8 weeks–according to both the fantastic world of google and my previous pregnancy history.

Physically, I’m fine. Mentally, I’m not in a good head space. I read the blogs, I hit the “like” button, I go through the motions of trying to heal myself… and I’m not succeeding. I worry about the future. I worry about the next pregnancy. If I’m being honest, I’m actually dreading the next pregnancy. With four pregnancies and no babies “behind” me, I don’t know if I’m ready to change my number to “five.” Isn’t there a point where you should stop? If I were someone who never had a loss, and I was looking at a couple who had gone through multiple losses, I would think to myself, “My God, why do you keep doing that do yourself??” I would think, “It must not be meant to be. They just aren’t going to have children.” All of that seems realistic and logical and I feel like I’m way past being logical. If there’s a less than 1% chance of having a child, do you continue to try? That’s not even close to a good number. Do you hold onto that hope? Or do you try to grasp a reality that closes the door on diapers and open the door to a childless life? Isn’t insanity doing the same thing over and and over again expecting a different result? Yeah. We’re there. Insanity.

I’m mentally exhausted. If I’m being honest, I hate this “club” we’re all in. I hate how this consumes my life. I hate nodding along to the blogs I read and thinking, “Yep, yep, yep” to all the blogs on miscarriage, D&C’s, and pregnancy loss. I hate it. But it’s all I think about. I see babies and pregnant women and rainbows everywhere. This is my reality. Is it always going to suck this much? Am I going to dread every Halloween when I don’t have a child to dress up and take Trick or Treating? Am I going to dread the toy aisles in the stores at Christmas? Am I going to dread not being able to have a child to read The Night Before Christmas to and leave cookies out for Santa? Am I going to dread not having a child to take to church on Easter Sunday and hide eggs and an Easter basket? No Valentine’s Day boxes to make… no cookies to take on their birthdays. No back-to-school shopping. No sleep overs. I guess this is what you make of it. It’s my fault that I’m making this all-consuming. It’s my fault I’m not “moving on.” It’s my fault that I torment myself over silly things that people who are parents may take for granted.

Sorry for the Debbie Downer post. It’s been a long time coming. I can pretend to be fine in “real life”… but here, I’m not going to pretend to be fantastic, because this blows.

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Post Op!

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I had my second hysteroscopic septosplasty yesterday. Apparently, that’s the technical term for it; I had been just calling it a septum resection. Everything went according to plan and there were no hiccups in the day. Unlike the first surgery, this one was on time and I didn’t have a difficult time waking up from surgery. I had minimal pain, cramping and bleeding. It went as good as it could have gone. The RE said, “This should solve the problem and I shouldn’t have any problem carrying a baby to term now.”

I’m glad that surgery is done and out of the way. We wavered so much in even having it done. It was extremely scary because during the first surgery, she said that she saw a “main artery” and stopped. So there was was much confusion in, if she stopped the first time, how much more could she get the second time? Originally my septum was 18mm. After the first surgery, she got the septum down to 12mm. Anything over 12mm they recommend doing surgery. So, we’re hoping to be 6mm or less during the next ultrasound, which will be in about a month depending on when my next period starts. We can’t start conceiving for another three months, which I’ll gladly take as a much needed break.

I should be 26 weeks tomorrow. It’s still a little surreal that I”m not pregnant and there will be another non-birthday in my future. This Fall will be extremely difficult.

I heard on the radio yesterday there will be a big baby boom this Fall because of the harsh winter we had last year. Dandy. Maybe that’s why it seems like everyone is pregnant? Who knows.

I’ll try to be a little more regular in my posts. It’s just so hard write anymore.

 

 

Standing Still

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Seriously, have you ever met a motherless woman who wasn’t completely insane? Think of a woman who doesn’t have a child. She’s not normal and you know it. I think this process makes us crazy.

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Today is a particularly difficult day. I don’t know why. There’s no good reason. I’ve taken an anxiety pill. I’m trying to relax. One huge fault/problem that I have is that I can’t relax. The thought of trying to relax absolutely terrifies me and send me into a fit of panic. I have the day off work, and I have nothing planned for the day. Normally, days are packed with errands and to-do’s for the day. Today I have nothing. I’m at my worst when I’m alone left to my own devices. My mind wanders and it’s not long before I’m trying to talk myself out of hysteria.

I struggle daily with the losses. Reading the blogs does not help. The same stories. The same sad story of hope, loss, and helplessness is heartbreaking. The cyclical defeat is gut-wrenching. Some of you are pregnant. Some of you are pregnant and have lost your baby and are waiting for the miscarriage to start. Some of you are in your TWW. Some of you are sitting there more depressed than you’ve ever been. I feel your heartache. I wish I could take your pain away. I wish I could elevate that burden. I wish I could put your baby in your arms and give you that miracle.

I feel like everyone’s lives are continuing on around me, and I’m standing still. I’m standing still in a flurry of activities that surround me. Babies turning into toddlers, who turn into little people with personalities and passions. Friends’ schedules filling with their children’s activities of girl scouts, soccer practice and training bras. Cousin’s with children who will start driving soon. Friends whose first child just graduated high school. And I’m standing still. Standing still with my head spinning and my heart aching.

Ever since decided to go forward with the second septum surgery, I’ve been thinking about canceling it. Right now we’re 4 and a half weeks from the surgery date and I’m terrified. Terrified of dying on the table if she cuts the main artery that she saw the first time. Terrified of the pain. Terrified of it not working. Terrified of getting pregnant a fifth time and losing that baby. Terrified of carrying the baby longer than I ever have ever carried a baby and losing it further along. I wanted to have the surgery so that I could say, “I did everything I could.” But now, I don’t know. Can I handle another loss? Can I put myself through the again?

Where this will go, I don’t know. The ache from my first loss is so fresh and real. That was over 11 years ago. This doesn’t get any easier. The grief consumes me. I hold onto the pain. I cradle and coddle it. I protect my pain because it’s all I have left of my babies. I keep it too close to the surface. The smart and sane thing to do would be to bury the feelings. Put them in the coffin I never got to put my babies in and bury it deep below the surface. I should let it go. Fear and shame are running my life and I have to stop this. I feel depressed and scared that I will never be a mother and that my husband will never get to be a father. I’m sad for us.

Rainbow Colored Glasses

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It’s been a while since I’ve written anything. The last miscarriage kinda took it out of me.

Since the last miscarriage I see rainbows everywhere. On walls and in the sky. I see one and know that it’s there just for me. The one that prompted the title of this post, “Rainbow Colored Glasses,” came on our two year wedding anniversary. We were heading home from our date and through my sunglasses I could see a beautiful rainbow in the clouds. I took my sunglasses off to get a better view, and I couldn’t see the rainbow without my sunglasses on. I kept putting them on and taking them off, and realized that I could only see them through the glasses… And they’re not special glasses 🙂 All the other rainbows I see without the sunglasses–I don’t want to make it sound like this is a magical thing. I try to always get photos of the rainbows and eventually I plan on posting a blog with the photos. On particularly rough days, I know that I’ll be seeing a rainbow… and I always do.

I’m reading all of your blogs… Thinking of you and praying for you. Every day is a “struggle.” I’m on a new anxiety medicine and I’m trying to keep my feelings and emotions in check. My hypochondria is constantly being tested.

After much discussion, we’re going to do the uterine septum surgery one more time, which will be the beginning of August. I was skeptical about going through that again, but in the end, I want to be able to say that I did everything I possibly could. If the surgery is set for the beginning of August, we won’t be able to start trying again until November or December. So, one more surgery, one more pregnancy, one more time. Then we’ll probably look into adoption or other alternatives if that doesn’t work.

Soo…. that’s it for now. Hopefully I’ll start posting a little more regularly again. We’ll see. Until then, take care!

Miscarriage vs. Abortion

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Please read the article attached to this blog.

Operation: Miracle

I came across this article on Facebook and thought I’d share it here. I’ve never had a miscarriage or an abortion so I can’t say I understand exactly the feelings of loss.

I do, however, understand the feelings of loss about never having biological children with my husband. And the loss of dreams about those babies. And the loss of dreams about unplanned or accidental pregnancies or even just trying to get pregnant the old fashioned way.

Here’s the link to the article:
http://www.scissortailsilk.com/2014/05/13/how-abortion-has-changed-the-discussion-of-miscarriage/

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Return to Zero – Breaking the Silence

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A Mourning Mom

Return to Zero premiers May 17th (tomorrow) on Lifetime at 8 pm/7pm central.   This is the first movie made about the stillbirth of a child.   The mission of the film is to break the silence surrounding stillbirth, miscarriage and neonatal death.

“The impact that one stillbirth has on the mother, the father, their family, and friends is devastating — a shock-wave of pain, guilt and then, too often, silence. The majority of those affected, especially the mothers, suffer in this silence often believing that their grief and trauma is theirs to bear alone.

While planning to entertain and enlighten all audiences with a dramatic tale of the strength and resilience of the human spirit, RETURN TO ZERO intends to break through the silence and become a beacon of cinematic light to the millions in search of answers, understanding and healing.”

Unlike the new show Resurrection, I know that I…

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How to have the longest miscarriage in the history of miscarriages.

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Here’s a rundown of how you accomplish this feat, should you so choose.

April 8th: Heartbeat

April 17th: No heartbeat, “You will miscarry…”

April 26th: Very mild spotting, dark brown.

April 27th: Start hemorrhaging, go to ER, pass tons of clots and “products of conception”–ultrasound shows only a few blood clots, “you’re fine to pass those on your own at home.”

April 27th-May 9th: Bleeding. Lots at first, then on and off alternating between bright red and brown. New and old.

May 4th: Hcg still at 440. Dr., “We need to do another ultrasound to confirm there are ‘no products of conception.'”

May 7th: Ultrasound. Nurse says nothing. I think everything looks good. (I’m such an expert).

May 8th: Nurse, “The doctor says there’s still something on the upper right side of your uterus and your lining is still thick. It could be products of conception or it’s your septum. She’s not sure. We’re going to still monitor your Hcg and follow it all the way down. If you start bleeding more than a pad an hour or passing clots, go to the ER.” FYI, the baby was on the upper right side of my uterus.

May 8th (after recovering from what the nurse just told me): Me, frantically trying to call the doctor back to find out, 1. How big this “product” is 2. If she feels it should wait or if we can do a D&C now (why wait until I’m hemorrhaging again?) 3. If I can have sex (great stress reliever) 4. If they ever got the results back from the “product” in the hospital.

May 8th (after my patience has completely gone): No phone call back. No answers. Waiting for something to happen or to not happen.

May 9th: More panic attacks. Doctor is conveniently not in the office on Friday’s.

May 10th (I’m fucking psychic now): Struggle through the day wondering when/if something is going to fly out of my uterus, Alien style.

May 11th: Drink. A lot. Don’t buy a gun.