In a Happier Place
| February 25, 2012 | Filed under Death, Life Changes |
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Well it’s been just over a month after we lost Isabella, and the road has been bittersweet. As my mind settles, the lessons come through in little glimpses. Not the big picture, mind you, but in small episodes in which I react differently than I would have before Isabella.
First, I have learned the value of love. The outpouring of love I received from friends and strangers was overwhelming. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t been through it; what mattered was that they took the time to understand that another human was in pain, and they were just a bit gentler with me. I learned about unconditional love, especially from my teenage son, who didn’t hesitate to show his emotions and love for me in situations in which no teenage boy would ever be caught dead showing emotion. My husband stood by my side, and mourned in his own way, and kept the family running. Not only did we receive great support, but we also learned to give it in return; an acquaintance of mine also lost a child soon after, and my new perspective allowed me to show support in a deeper manner than if I had never experienced the loss.
Second, I learned that there are no accidents. This door closed, and several more opened. I’m not at liberty to say what they are just yet, but I can say that without this new set of glasses defining how I see the world, those doors would never have been opened for my family and me.
Third, I learned about the ego. I learned that ego is a strong motivator, and mostly in the negative direction. I began to follow the Buddhist rules of criticism by asking myself three things before I opened my mouth to say something critical: is it true, is it necessary, and is it kind? Rarely do all three of these criteria apply; and so rather than allowing my ego to dominate my words, I hold back and just allow other people be themselves. This makes my path so much clearer, as the little criticism I’ve received lately about my own lifestyle allows me to understand that words spoken without asking oneself if they’re true, necessary and kind are simply words defining the speaker, not the recipient of the criticism.
These are just a few things that I can thank Isabella for, and a day doesn’t go by that I don’t think of her and thank her for the short time she was in our lives.
Peace to all.
Happy Pregnant Women Everywhere
| January 31, 2012 | Doctors Visits, Suffering |
It seems that all I see lately is happy, pregnant women rubbing their swollen bellies and talking about their birth plans. Yesterday I had to finish up at the OB/GYN yesterday. I had gone there to “close out my tab” for my failed pregnancy. I sat in the waiting room with at least a dozen women in maternity clothes, their husbands sitting in flip flops obediently next to them, awaiting their next appointment with the doctor. Me, I was riddled with tears, and hung my head so that my hair covered my face and I didn’t scare the clientele. It finally got so bad that I got up and went as far away as possible from the swollen bellies. I sat in a lone chair by the front door, hidden from the other patients. It got so crowded that they started to infiltrate my solitary corner, and I couldn’t look in any direction without seeing another belly being rubbed. Yesterday was the second worst day of this whole experience. I wanted to be happy for these women. I wanted to share in their joy, because I know that being pregnant is one of the most joyous times in their lives. I wondered that if I were one of those joyous women, and I saw a lone crying patient in the corner, if I would have taken the time to check to see if she was OK. Or would I simply look the other way because I wanted to relish in my joy? I hope that the roles are never switched, because I know that if I see a crying woman in the waiting room, I will most likely know why she’s crying, and I wouldn’t wish that pain on any woman in this world. more
Devastation…and Hope
| January 24, 2012 | Age Related, Doctors Visits, Hope |
After two weeks of screaming, crying, cursing God and the Universe, I have come to the realization that my baby is gone. There were a lot of grey areas, where my body, still pregnant from a hormonal perspective, still felt phantom kicks and squirms from a baby that was no longer there. My uterus is still expanded, and externally as well, I still look like a pregnant woman. I spent entire days in bed, lamenting how unfair it is. When I could muster the effort to go out, I found myself bursting into tears when a young mother carried her baby into the bagel joint. She looked at me as if I was half crazed, for she didn’t know my story. I was truly angry and envious that she could carry her baby to term, and all of the labor pains she endured rendered her a live child at the end of it, where mine resulted in going home alone and bleeding. My doctor shared my tears, which gives me more faith in the health community than ever before–at least in my particular experience. She told me of a great fertility specialist who uses cutting edge technology to filter out the bad eggs, fertilize the good eggs, hopefully avoiding a repeat of the situation that we just went through. It’s called Pre-Implantational Genetic Diagnosis (PGD) and it tests not only for the chromosomal abnormalities like Isabella had, but for dozens of other anomalies as well. The doctor didn’t seem too worried after he read our history and asked us a few questions. He warned of twins, and explained the options available to us. On his desk, there were two pictures: one of twins, and another of triplets. All his, in two pregnancies, from a wife that was my age when she started. Testing starts in 6 weeks when my cycle resumes. more
Sunset for Isabella
| January 20, 2012 | Death, Doctors Visits, Life Changes, Suffering |
Signed the death certificate yesterday for our little Isabella. I hope that none of you ever have to sign your own child’s death certificate. If you have little ones out there, please cherish them and know that a million things have to go right to get them here…and only one thing has to go wrong for you to lose them. more
The Worst News a Mother Could Hear
| January 13, 2012 | Age Related, Doctors Visits, Suffering |
After three endless days of waiting for results, I finally received a call from the perinatal doctor. Our daughter, Isabella, has Trisomy 18. Despite all of my visualization, meditation and faith in God, the results were devastating to my husband and I, who had truly believe that love can conquer anything. Isabella is unlikely to survive past birth. Now, I am faced with a very difficult decision that plenty of mothers before me have had to make. It’s doubly difficult since I am still in shock, however I feel that prolonging my decision just prolongs my grief. Whatever the life plan was–whether it be Isabella’s plan to experience what she is experiencing in the womb, or my husband’s and my plan to experience the joy and loss of life–it is still unclear to me at this time. I am sure, since I tend to reflect on such things ad nauseum, that the plan will be apparent to me sometime after the grief has subsided. Either way, despite my being angry at God, I have experienced a great outpouring of love from those around us. It’s amazing how even the people that are distant from you can seem so close when they send love your way. Thanks to all who have supported me during this journey. I have some more grieving to do. more
Incompatible With Life?
| January 10, 2012 | Doctors Visits, Suffering, The Holy Crap Factor |
So. I broke down and got the second level ultrasound. An hour with that wand pushing down hard on my uterus, hundreds of pictures, 3d images of arms and legs and much silence from the sonographer. That’s never good. As you may recall, I really didn’t want to do any genetic testing, choosing to let God make his decision for the type of child I should have. But several friends admitted that it really wasn’t that scary and that it made them feel better. Another set of eyes, more views, more skilled sonographer. After the hour of snapshots, we waited a long while for the doctor to come in. She started speaking with a heavy German accent, and the first thing she said was, ”There are several things that concern me about this baby.” She began to explain that the indications noted earlier, in addition to another one I was not aware of, indicate that this child was a candidate for Trisomy 18, which is an extra 18th chromosome. After that, she made it very clear that children with this syndrome are “incompatible with life.” Meaning that they die. They die in the womb, or they die a week after they are born, but they always die. Pressing harder, I asked her what are the chances of this happening. She sat back in her chair, as if no one had ever asked her that, and she said “very good.” What the hell is very good? She stumbled a little, flustered that someone would ask for such detailed information. I said again, “What are the chances that my child has this syndrome?” “Twenty-five percent.” My mind didn’t process this until later, that the chances are pretty fricking good that my baby is just fine. But she had already gone there, with her thigh patting and her soft German accent. She had managed to scare the hell out of me, just like the midwife said she would. She recommended an amniocentesis, which I had said I’d never do. ”It’s different now. The risks are nowhere near what they used to be.” Was I being sold? I think so. But I was an emotional buyer at that moment, and the reminder that my child would be “incompatible with life” –should she be diagnosed with this syndrome– tipped me in the direction of the amniocentesis. I went and got it done. Results are as close to 100% accurate as can possibly be. The results from my test will determine if my child will be healthy, or if she will not live past birth. Preliminary results are in 48-72 hours. That’s a very long wait. more
It’s a Girl!
| January 7, 2012 | Age Related, Doctors Visits |
So the 20 week ultrasound was bittersweet. We are indeed having a girl, which I (and a psychic 13 years ago) predicted. No club feet, no cleft palate, all legs and arms in place where they should be. There were some concerns (here it comes again– MY AGE) about some of the developmental conditions. Some really long medical words were thrown my way with a furrowed brow from the sonographer, who suggested we “reconsider” genetic testing because the existence of several indicators of chromosomal abnormalities. When I spoke to the midwife, she, in her usual nonchalant way, said that indicators like that would amount to a 1% chance of giving birth to a child with chromosomal abnormalities. Once again, the medical field has successfully scared the shit out of another mother, and incited fear into what should be a wonderfully warming and cherished experience. Add to that the difference in the way the same information was handled, and no wonder we as Americans live in a constant state of stress. I wonder if other countries focus so much on having perfect babies, or do they embrace a more spiritual view that God gives us what will help us learn and grow, whether that be a “perfect” baby or one with disabilities. In any case, I chose to schedule a second level ultrasound at the recommendation of several of my friends, not all OLD either, who felt more at ease when more time was taken by a more skilled sonographer, and everything was laid on the line. That appointment is in two days, and of course I’m nervous. Either way, this child is what the Universe gave me, and she will be born and loved no matter what the outcome is. In my opinion, they are all perfect. more
Tomorrow is the Day
| January 2, 2012 | Doctors Visits, Life Changes |
Well it seems like I just looked at the plus sign on the pregnancy test just last week, but in fact it’s been 15 weeks since then. Tomorrow I go in for my 20 week ultrasound, and find out the gender of the baby. OK that part is exciting, but that’s not the reason that this ultrasound is the most important one. Tomorrow they do all the in-depth measurements, testing and calculations to screen for defects and other issues. Terrifying! This week has been one of reflection, in which I remind myself something a Native American friend told me a long time ago when I was having some other challenges: ”Everything is as it should be.” This statement, when I remember to say it to myself, is comforting, as it reminds me that there’s nothing I can do to change the outcome of the situation. It will be as it is, and whatever is growing inside my womb will be loved and welcomed into my heart and my family. My prediction: a girl. By they way, that was my prediction last time too, and of course I gave birth to a healthy little boy. Love to all who are supporting me through this! You are a great help in my times of uncertainty. more
How Medical Tests Can Make You Worry Yourself Sick
| November 14, 2011 | Age Related, Doctors Visits |
OK, I know that doctors are here to help us get unsick. But what if they and their tests MAKE us sick? I just got a call from the doctor about my latest test, done at 12 weeks. It was a nuchal translucency test, which, by means of measuring the thickness of the fluid at the back of the baby’s neck and a combination blood test, can detect a woman’s risk for having a baby with chromosomal abnormalities. These two measurements, factored in with age and weight, provide the doctors with some magic number, or the odds, of having a child with Down syndrome (where the child has one extra 21st chromosome) or Trisomy 18 (where the child has an extra 18th chromosome). Well my magic number didn’t come back so hot. Factoring in my advanced age, the results indicate that my odds of having a baby with chromosomal abnormalities is 1 in 24. That number sounded scary on the phone, and still does. But when I did the math, that really equates to a 4% chance. That means that I have a 96% chance of having a normal child. Is the medical field terrified of being sued for not doing all they can while the child is in utero? Are the insurance companies pressuring them to diagnose birth defects while still in the womb to give the parents the option to terminate the pregnancy and thus save on costly insurance payouts later? I wonder. But even as I wonder, I still consented to a second test because, frankly, the numbers scared me too. Tomorrow we’ll see. more
Full Speed Ahead – 13 weeks pregnant and I just had my 46th birthday
| November 12, 2011 | Filed under Doctors Visits, Suffering |
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Well the doctor cleared us for full speed ahead. Blood test and second ultrasound came out fine so far for Down’s Syndrome. Note that it’s not a diagnostic test, but rather one that says that the child would be at elevated risk. So far so good.
She promised me that the sickness would start fading…fade it has, but disappear it hasn’t! Today I am frustrated with my partner, my kid, and every barking dog I hear. I missed the Festival of Horses because everyone wanted to sleep in, and I wasted 30 bucks. Normally, this would have been no big deal, but in my heightened state of hormonal awareness, it infuriated me.
So I am now at 13 weeks, and no clothes fit. My thighs look like ham hocks, and I am too nauseous to exercise. I did go to Target and visited the baby section, which I haven’t been interested in in 14 years. I settled upon a Graco suite of products (playpen, stroller, etc) in Sweet Pea, which is my favorite color green, and brown to hide dirt and spit up…at least I got something accomplished today.
