Indecision

For you it might be like a sneeze
Or a switch to de-caf
For me, it’s a door to a tornado
Rolling fast toward me as I huddle in a broken down shack
Looking out at colorful round hay bales
Flying away
The ones that stay put are babies that might live.

Does anyone wonder why I’m stalling?
Even though doctors say “Hurry. Your age.”
They don’t know how it is
Sitting here in my summer clothes
Sipping a cocktail of sweet, hopeful thoughts
Knowing I’m safe on this island for a minute longer

Some part of me is hoarding up novels and notebooks and programs on Huloo
Preparing for the words, “Bed rest”
There are many things much worse than those words
Things you don’t ever want to see
Things that could be behind doors number two and three
The halls of dead baby for instance.

I watch my sister in-law bounce around in pregnant ease
Travel four straight days in a car full of screaming, whining kids
Up late, up early
Never a sad face from that one
Painting rooms and breathing fumes for the umpteenth time

How come no one else seems to get the tornado drill?
I’m like an 18th century lady all fragile in her white linen bed
Making babies is brutal to my constitution
So I stay here one last moment
Soaking up sun, reading books, hiking up mountains
I’m safe. But some part of me is easing its way up to that door.
Hoping I can harness one of those intact little rainbow bales
Knowing the storm will pummel me if it can.
I hate its dark winds the way Sigourney Weaver hates an alien.
I want to fight it, hide from it, elude it.
Then I just want to stay here, on solid ground.
Forget the whole thing.
Walk away while I still have a chance.

Tired Today

Finally home for a week and then back to pet-sitting Saturday. I feel so tired, like I have this big sleep deficit from all the different places we've stayed and varied schedules. And, of course, dealing with that difficult client. I know I out did myself with niceness and am paying the price. Even the trip out of town for fun this past month kinda wore me out with the jet lag, staying up late visiting, and still dealing with an achy frozen shoulder. I think I need down time to just rest and do almost nothing. Luckily, the household projects are almost done. Just the office and one more run to the Goodwill. I have also decided to stash away the food-related baby items until a food drive turns up this fall. Not easy because I want them gone, but I'll deal.

I know I've been pushing a lot with work and projects and I imagine it's all part of my grief, to keep busy. My favorite Platy fish, Spartacus, died last Friday and that kind of triggered all these underlying feelings of sadness I manage to sweep aside most of the time. I cried for her, knowing how much I'd miss her swimming up to greet us with her pretty little pectoral fins that looked like translucent fairy wings. Pet loss is as painful as any other kind of grief and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I really loved that little fish and all the joy she brought me since I set up the new tank this past spring. Pets and music have saved my life it seems. I also think, with all that's happened this year, losing Spartacus brought the other pain back into focus. The loss of our baby in January, my father in-law in March, and even my grandma, who died a few years ago. I dreamt about Grandma last night and in the dream she was alive and I could still drive to her home anytime, just as I had as a girl. I do dream this type of dream occasionally and usually I am just discovering that she has dementia. In this latest one, she was already at the nursing home, but I didn't know it until I got to her house. Inside the house, there was a secret doorway that led to these rooms I'd never seen before. They were filled with art and other belongings that I'd never known about. I found a cot that she'd been sleeping on, old telephones, and a large, weird sculpture/painting of the Pope in her bedroom. She was not Catholic, so pretty odd, although she did collect all kinds of art and imports. There was also an aquarium with fish that had somehow lived a long time with no food or water changes. The whole thing was very vivid and reminded me of a dream I'd had a few years ago, where my mom had a secret room filled with beautiful emerald green antique glassware and vintage Halloween decorations.

Anyway, today I found myself feeling weirdly tired and needing major downtime to just be. I still feel like working, setting stuff up for school, working out, and messing with my aquarium, so it's not exactly like depression. It's more like this need to seriously chill and reflect and maybe journal or even draw something. I also feel like listening to music and doing some dancing. Being busy, organized, effective, meticulous...well, that's not cutting it today. Yes, those things keep me going, but there's more that needs attention before the treadmill of school and jury duty begin. I need a little me time I guess, while I can still manage it.

August Morning

We are having a small string of hot days. Out come the shorts and tank tops again and it's easier to ignore all the depressing back to school ads. I am in no way ready for fall. I am currently staying with the coolest dog, a Springer-Border Collie mix, and we've had lots of adventures going to the dog park, swimming, and just taking long, long walks. Unfortunately, her owner is super anxious and annoying and I've bent over backwards to accommodate her to the point where I don't want to work here again. Plus, I undercharged a little and the fact that she fails to acknowledge the screaming deal adds to my growing resentment about the arrangement, It sucks because I enjoy this dog, but it's not worth it when the owner is this impossible.

On top of all this, I am wondering if I might be pregnant, but there is no way to know for another day or so. I honestly doubt I could be since we just started trying this month, but you never know. I have been extra tired lately though. The waiting is the toughest part. And, honestly, with all we've been through, I don't want to get too excited either way. I mean, a new baby would never make up for our first one and the excitement I felt being pregnant for the first time, just over a year ago.

Not much else to say. Jury duty will have me busy for a couple weeks next month and then school starts, so that kinda sucks. Better enjoy the last of my break while I can. No more annoying customers. A couple more cleaning projects are left at home, but I have made headway. Just the office, kitchen cabinets, and Hubby's dresser. We've done well purging a lot of clothes and getting the linen closet cleaned. It feels great. So, I'd like to finish, but I'd also like some chill time to read, focus on some fitness, and to do absolutely nothing. Once classes start, it's back to the grind, although I will be done with requirements by Christmas and can probably intern after that. Finally.

Summer 2010 De-cluttering Project

Yes. It's happening folks. I am turning over a new leaf. Along with my fitness plan that started this week, I plan to de-clutter our apartment. There has been talk about us moving into a house if we have another baby, but I am convinced we can make it work right here in our tiny apartment. We love the neighborhood and have everything we need. I know families in Ireland and Japan raise whole families in one room and it is possible. Of course, it is so American to think you need lots of extra room and a crap-load of stuff.

Anyway,I will start with the junk closet and then move to the billions of old clothes we have cluttering our bedroom. Some of it will go to a consignment store, but the bulk will be sent to Goodwill. Then I'll move onto the kitchen and eliminate the be-zillion dishes and utensils we NEVER use. Last will be the bathroom closet, where I'll mercilessly discard expired items. I cannot wait! Of course I'll probably need some gluten free beer and some good music to pull this off. My goal is to get it all tackled by the end of the month.

Busy Day

I worked late, but was able to see fireworks out the office window last night, so that was cool. Afterwards, I walked Ernie, took a couple Motrin p.m., and then watched a Season 3 episode of "Thirty Something" over soy ice cream. That show is so eighties, but actually pretty well written (who knew?). Now, I'm slugging down coffee and getting ready for a long dog walk. We also have to get all of our stuff out of here and linens washed because we are moving back home tonight and then my dad is coming at 11 p.m.. What a long day it will be, but I'm happy he is FINALLY visiting us.

July Already

Time is flying by and this week has gone especially fast. I applied for a job at the student clinic today. I am almost finished with my degree and it would be great to get a little experience in that setting before I start my internship. I think that, generally, I'm due to change things up, although staying in my current job til the last second does have some appeal. I'm definitely comfortable with the routine.

Yesterday was a fun day. I spent it urban walking with Doug and Ernie (black lab). We started in a local park and made a large loop through a couple of neighborhoods. It took a few hours and it was a bit of an adventure until I realized we were almost home. Kind of a "Planet of the Apes" moment for me. After the walk, we fed Ernie and I gave Doug some homemade bramble berry shortbread that the previous pet-sitter had left for me. She was so nice, even washing the linens before she took off. I know that sounds like such a small courtesy, but one less load of laundry is always a plus when you are going between pet-sitting gigs.

So now I've seen all the Toy Stories except for the latest one, which we'll check out after my dad visits next week. I am so excited to see him. Even though he's only here for a short stay, there are so many places we want to take him, including the ocean. Tonight, Hubby and I thoroughly cleaned the apartment, including the tub, so my dad can have a really comfy visit. I want him to like it enough that he might consider moving out here in his old age, so we can take care of him.

As we were cleaning tonight, I recycled old copies of "Fit Pregnancy" and ate the last of the raw food bars that I bought when I was pregnant last summer. I also put away all the baby junk I keep getting in the mail. I am on some stupid list ever since I shopped at a maternity store last year. I put all the unwanted formula and diapers away, so I can donate them. There are still some baby clothes and books that a friend gave me, which I may or may not keep. I have them tucked away and am not sure what I feel about them. Part of me thinks I could save them for another baby and another part just wants everything from the last pregnancy gone. Truthfully, I don't think it will hurt to have a few unopened clothes and books put away. The main thing is I want the feeling of a fresh start. In August or September, we plan to try for another baby and I want this to be all brand new. I know I'll have fears and memories, but I don't want to add unhappiness by having old stuff from last time in my direct path. I don't even want the same doctors. Our support group is tomorrow night and I will probably air some of this in there. Some of the women are currently pregnant, so I'll be curious how they are dealing.

Cool Summer Day

We are back from our trip to the desert where I walked the dunes and climbed the rocks of an old creek bed, getting red sand in my shoes. Every day was hot and sunny and we wore shorts and got sun burns. It was awesome. But now we are home and the weather is in the low 70s and very cool at night. In a way, it is easier on my constitution, considering that I love being outdoors so much. That said I sure would like another dose of bright sun and heat to remind me that the seasons have truly changed here. Our vacation was really relaxing and good for me though. I slept wonderfully at my mother in-law's because she spares no expense on pillows. I was able to arrange them so I could finally rest my injured shoulder. I also took melatonin and slept with a soothing dry canyon breeze blowing through our window at night. It was everything the doctor ordered and more. In the evenings we went out with friends and family and even had a barbeque one night, complete with bonfire and toasted marshmallows near a rushing creek.

Now, we are home and I am working, which probably isn't as bad as it seems. I have dogs booked for tonight and another one next week. I do have to be at the office tonight and tomorrow, but so far it's been pretty relaxed. I might even have time to read more of Stephen King's "Under the Dome" later, which is my current summer read. I've also been brewing some of my own ideas which have been on hold due to all that school mayhem. It's hard to get started writing fiction sometimes, even when I do have more time available. I find that I have bad habits of getting caught up in e-mail and Facebook or Internet surfing and time gets away. On vacation, I deliberately avoided checking e-mail or other sites and found my creativity slowly bobbing to the surface again. I think it's just a matter of remembering to keep the way clear when I'm home. I have one friend who is a writer and he refuses to get Facebook. I don't know that I'd go that far, but I see his point.

I'm excited about seeing "Toy Story 3" in 3-D in a couple weeks. I have to watch the first two before we go, but they are short and there should be time in the evenings. I also want to do some local hikes with Doug. I think we'll start with a long urban walk this week with one of the dogs and work our way up to the tougher stuff as the summer progresses.

Final Stretch

One week and three days before finals are over. So much writing and writing these days. Even when I'm not writing a paper, I'm thinking about one. It seems like it never stops, but last night I dropped everything and watched "Spirited Away" and ate soy ice cream and gluten free cookies on the couch. I've been toughing it out with a shoulder injury, which a doctor says is rotator cuff injury and an acupuncturist says is frozen shoulder. In ether case, I am miserable and another night at the computer doing citations was going to do me in. I am now sitting here waiting for heat and a couple Ibuprofen to kick in so I can sleep a little more.

We had our support group this week. Two of the regular women in there are pregnant and I am happy for them, but it brought up all these feelings to see them and hear what is happening. I know when I got out of the hospital I wanted to be pregnant right away, as if it would be a continuation of where we left off. But now time has made me see that another pregnancy won't change this grief I feel about our son. I am just walking through this summer, so far, a mom without my baby and it is the weirdest feeling. Like outwardly I can't really "show" the world I'm a mom, but I know I am and so does my husband and so do the people in the group. All we have, however, is a photograph on our living room shelf to prove our son existed.

I won't say that TTC is off the list of possibilities for this next six months to a year, but I know now that a new child won't "fix" this loss or bring me back to that place of joy and innocence I was at the first time. My husband said he feels the same. That, however, is not to say we would not love another child. I know in my heart we would love all of our children.

Meanwhile, school is sort of draining me and the pain from the shoulder injury is making it all seem more overwhelming. I just want to be done with academia and get a new job, even though I'm scared to make the leap. My current job is okay, but I've been there seemingly forever and want a new adventure in the trenches. Not just reading books and writing research papers.

Going to try and sleep a little now, so I can wake up later and write and go to work.

Another Spring Day

The sun is peeking out through the clouds again after a rainy, windy day yesterday. I'm finally finishing up this dog-sitting job and will get to go home later. I still need to get the dogs out on one more short walk, finish washing the linens, load the car, and do my last minute check-ins. I can't wait to be done, although I know I have to clean my own home when I get there. The place is dusty and cluttered from all the craziness of last week and my allergies are out of control. I know I'll be back on Benadryl tonight.

I hope to go to church tonight since I missed last week's Lenten devotional. I was pretty good about making it every week before that. I also hope to make it to church on Easter this year, even if it means losing some sleep before work. I really feel that God is the ultimate counselor and being in church helps me connect with my deepest emotions. Also, being around other people in the congregation is kind of like group therapy. Even if we aren't talking out loud a lot, I know many of us are there to check in with God about what's troubling us and we are looking to be better people in our day to day lives.

I've got a few other things I hope to do tonight, including talking to my friend (adopted-mom) in Colorado and doing some shopping. Our fridge is empty except for condiments! I hope to pick up a few healthy things and I want to avoid getting take-out because part of my new health plan involves totally avoiding gluten. I generally do a good job with that, but I suspect I do get some gluten in restaurant items. There's a Thai place we go to that does list which items are wheat-free, but I'm never sure about most of the others. I know it is time to get serious about that because even if I don't always have symptoms, I could be doing damage. I don't want to jeopardize a potential future pregnancy because I was not minding my diet properly. I also plan to stay on my prenatal vitamins and start getting back in shape again.

I am planning to see "Alice in Wonderland" Friday with friends. It should be fun, but I'll have to get up early to catch the showing they've chosen. I guess I'll have to go off the decaf for a day. I've mostly stayed with decaf since the pregnancy and I'm glad. Occasionally I drink regular if I have to work a morning shift or something comes up where I don't get enough sleep. We'll see how I do once graduate school starts though!

The Ides Return

Ah yes. The Ides of March. It's not my favorite time due to past memories that I've written about before. And now it marks the day that my father in-law's body will be viewed by family and friends who made it to Salt Lake. Tomorrow is the funeral. I am still feeling very sad about his passing.

I am still with the dogs and strangely it is a beautiful sunny day. It's the kind of day when I love being outside and active, but I've had to scale back because the dogs are older and one has an injury. Not to mention, I am still nursing a muscle strain near my ankle. So, instead of a full day of activity out in the sun, I am here doing boring chores around the house and letting myself think too much about the 12 extra pounds I can't quite seem to shed post-pregnancy. I used to never have a problem with weight or fitting into my clothes, so I'm not used to this frustration. I mean, I eat basically healthy, I do get some activity (although not as much as I should) and the pounds are just stuck. I wanted to get fit and shed the weight before trying to get pregnant again, but now I don't know if I'll make the deadline. I am still mostly wearing maternity pants and sweats. Sometimes I even think, "So what?" I'll just get pregnant again without losing the weight, gain less than I did last time, and then get on a hardcore fitness and exercise program after the next baby is born. That way I won't be like a yo yo. Other times I think I want to get as fit as possible now and to enjoy fitting into my normal clothes again. But then I'm not all that motivated to get going on it. I feel so out of shape for stuff I used to do like yoga, dance, and pilates. Plus, I have injuries that tend to flare up if I push very hard. I feel like I'll just get depressed walking into those classes with the extra weight and with an injury-prone body. And then there's the looming fact that I'll be back in grad-school soon and that takes over most of my time, so how can I possibly commit to weekly fitness classes?

I know I'll straighten the fitness/weight-loss issue out eventually, but right now I am in that state of contemplation more than anything. It seems I am also in that state in regard to trying for another pregnancy. On one level, getting pregnant soon is my biggest wish because I am old and only have a short time left to go for it. On the other hand, I now know all the risks involved and I have to ask myself if I'm ready for another potential roller coaster ride or a fetal demise. And, also, I wonder if I am willing to put my life on hold again for 40 weeks. There are things I want to do, like moving and getting a dog and figuring out my career. I'd also like to commit to an active lifestyle again, like I said already. Pregnancy would put many things on hold, especially if I run into any kind of complications. I have to be ready for that possibility and know that I am giving up another year of my life to focus on pregnancy and a newborn. In some ways, I think it would be wise to do it now, so I can take that one last shot and then get on with life one way or the other. But I also think maybe I should just give up the whole pregnancy and parenting idea and just move on. But then I would have forfeited my last chance and that would suck. So, there's just so much to think about.

One of the Saddest Days Ever

I'm just going to ramble here on five hours of sleep. I am still off caffeine, so it's been a rough day with all that's happened. I just have so much on my mind and am keeping a different (earlier) schedule with the dogs. I hope I can take a nap later.

My father in-law died last night around 10:30 p.m. My husband had flown into Salt Lake and was able to spend a few last moments with him. I was really touched because he asked his father to take care of Peanut for us. I guess my husband's mom and one of our nieces expressed similar requests, which made it even more touching. My only regret is that I couldn't be there because of a stupid pet-sitting gig. I took the job because, even though my father in-law's health was failing, I naively figured he might hold on for awhile longer. But things did not go according to plan, so I am sitting here teary-eyed watching raindrops on the window with the dogs sleeping at my feet. I have called my husband a couple of times already today and will probably need to buy another top up card. Another reason I had to call was that Peanut's autopsy report finally arrived at the specialist, so we can schedule an appointment to discuss what went wrong. More good things to think about. Sigh.

I hate the month of March, except for Saint Patrick's Day. My mom died in March 1995 and now my father in-law. It seems this should be the time of spring flowers, newborns, and baskets full of Easter candy, yet many times I've been delivered sadness and rain. I thought I could remedy it by giving birth to a baby in April, but I guess we all know how that turned out.

There is no way to adequately describe my father in-law as a person, but I would still attempt it by saying he was a man with a sense of humor, who was both gentle and mischievous. He had a sparkle in his eye and he loved walking and hiking. I instantly thought of him as a kindred spirit due to his love of the outdoors. He was also great with kids and you'd usually see him playing with his grandchildren or carrying them around. He was always very kind to me and he once said that I should be "protected in all seasons". That was a funny thing to say, but that was like him to just say something unexpected that would make you smile.

What is truly depressing is that Parkinson's disease got a grip on my father in-law and it slowly stole away the person he was. Over the last five years, we saw him change into a quiet and confused person, who could no longer do very much for himself. It was hard for me to see this and I know it was hard on my husband. It was almost like dementia locked his soul away in a room where he could never be found. Maybe once in awhile you'd see a glimmer, but rarely for very long.

Even though my father in-law was in such poor condition these last years, I will totally miss seeing him when we visit Utah again. There's a picture of Valley Forge Park in the entry-way of my mother in-law's home that always reminds me of him. I think I will look or listen for him next time I am in that house, even though my logical mind knows he is gone.

Valentine's Day Goes By

It's midnight and Sunday February the 14th, 2010 is officially over. The holiday passed us by because our minds were still on Peanut and the small memorial we held at a local church on Saturday. There was music, prayer, and a photo montage on DVD that day. My mother in-law read a special poem that my dad sent us called "The Angel Baby". Along with it, my husband and I read a letter that we'd written to Peanut telling him how much we miss him and naming off some of the many things we wish we could share with him. When we first wrote the letter we cried a lot, but somehow we managed to read it at the church without falling apart.

After the service some of the ladies at the church served us a light lunch and people were able to visit for awhile. They also gave me a bouquet of miniature daffodils, which I took home and placed by some other bouquets near Peanut's urn. We took an evening walk with some friends in the rain and my mother in-law treated us to dinner at a nice seafood restaurant. I was really happy that a couple of my closest friends could be there. I was also very touched that one of my husband's childhood friends flew across the country to be with us.

Valentine's Day was very, very low key. I slept in and didn't go to church. My mother in-law was going through a hard time because her husband fell and broke his hip over the weekend. She kept taking phone calls and finally found out he was recovering after surgery. Even with all that going on, she decided to take a long afternoon walk with us. We got rained on again, but there were a couple sun breaks and we looked at some houses that might be fun to buy if we could afford them. My mother in-law said she wants to take us house hunting later this week.

I cooked Pad Thai for everyone tonight and we watched "Angels and Demons", which was pretty entertaining. My mother in-law slept through the whole thing, so I don't know if she liked it much though.

I did tape a few Valentine hearts to the door late Saturday night, although I did not bake cookies or send cards this year. There was no need for Hubby to buy flowers for me because the apartment is filled with flowers from the memorial and people expressing condolences. The roses my brother in-law sent from Utah are especially fragrant. I opened a window tonight and the combination of the rainy air and rose petals gave our place the most wonderful scent. It reminded me of being a young girl and staying at my grandma's house. She always had roses growing near the windows and you could smell them on cool nights with the windows open.

I noticed some of the older flower arrangements were shedding off dried petals tonight. They were beautiful in their own way. The ones near Peanut's urn were dropping petals like autumn leaves on a grave. I thought about my childhood home in the fall and all the beautiful leaves, golden sunlight, and crisp air. I remembered visiting last September and telling my dad the good news that I was pregnant. We were all so happy. Of course, it was early in the pregnancy, so I worried that I might miscarry. But I didn't. Then I figured I was in the clear and I had no idea what heart break was in store for me.

Tears in Heaven

I was thinking about that Eric Clapton song. "Tears in Heaven" today. I doubt I'll be able to hear that again without feeling very, very sad.

Overall, it was a pretty quiet day. I woke up too early again and had to go back to bed later in the morning. I know it's the grief, so I just rolled with it. I'm glad I'll be working swing shift and having classes in the afternoon next quarter.

I am waiting for the urn to arrive and hope it's ready before we pick up Peanut's ashes next week. We are planning a memorial, so I hope everything comes together in time. We meet with the Bishop on Wednesday.

My body feels pretty run down. I'm living on comfort foods like gluten free cookies, pancakes, soda pop, and soy ice creams. I'm eating stuff I avoided while pregnant because I didn't want empty calories. I'm also not doing any yoga or any other restorative activity. This is just where I'm at right now and I don't care. I know later I'll try to get healthy again, in case I try to get pregnant again. I really feel like my body needs to heal and get strong again though. Right now, I am still bleeding and passing clots from the birth and I'm lactating, which is really uncomfortable.

I was crying tonight while we were doing dishes because I miss Peanut so much. I feel so cheated that we never got to really know him like we wanted to. I mean, we know what he looked like as a tiny baby, but we don't know what his likes and dislikes were or what his talents were. I feel so sad about that. I'm pretty sure he liked pineapple and fish because he used to kick me a lot after I'd eat those foods, but I don't know what else he liked. I just wanted so much to really get to know him as a person.

Aftermath

I haven't written much lately due to exhausting amounts of grief. We found out Peanut was dead on the 26th when we went in for another ultrasound at the university. The radiologist couldn't confirm exact time of death, but we know it happened sometime between the 21st and the 26th.

I checked into the hospital for an induction on the 27th and finally gave birth on January 28th at 8 p.m. Our little boy weighed a pound and a half and he was 12 inches long. His little face and body were somewhat deteriorated after spending days in the amniotic fluid after death, but you could still see his features. He had a beautiful little face with a very distinctive nose, perfect hands and feet, and the cutest little tummy I'd ever seen. The nurse dressed him in a warm outfit with a hat and wrapped him in a blanket. We held him and looked at him for about five hours. A very kind volunteer photographer also came in and took some photos.

It's been a long week with a lot of tears. We are blessed to have the support of caring family and friends.

Pretty Good Day

The doctor checked for a heart beat today and it turns out the baby is still alive. His heart beat was at 150 per minute, which is about where it usually is. We were so relieved because he hadn't been kicking as much over the last couple days. The doctor said babies have quiet days just like adults and sometimes they nap, so not to worry. She did say the placenta wasn't looking looking good at all though.

I am so happy to know we've made it past two weeks after all the grim predictions. We are going back to the specialist at the university next week to see if there has been any growth at all. I've been eating a ton, but don't know if it's making much difference. The doctor said there was a slight increase in my measurements today, but I don't think I'm big enough.

The doctor gave me the green light to do some walking again. She said there is no evidence that bed rest really makes a difference and she thinks more activity would be good for my mental health. That was cool, so I got out for awhile today. Later tonight a few friends called and I had a lot of fun talking on the phone and getting my mind off all the heavy stuff going on for awhile. Friends, family, and some of the humorous shows we watch on TV are all helping me to deal.

Made it Two Weeks

Two weeks have passed since that doctor I don't like at our regular clinic said our baby would probably not live two weeks. I still feel movements. I really am dreading going back to see that woman for a heart check tomorrow, but might as well just let her do her job and make sure the kid really is still alive. If he makes it a little bit longer, we will go back to the specialist at the university next week for yet another ultrasound.

The bed rest was making me pretty crazy this morning. I felt like I wanted to start breaking things or maybe kill someone, so I talked Hubby into walking down to this nearby comic book store that we like. The people that work there are all really smart and funny and it was so great to be out doing something "normal" for awhile. We talked and laughed about mundane stuff and enjoyed thumbing through various comics and graphic novels. After I felt I'd had enough (ie. felt bleeding start again), I told Hubby we had to go and we took public transit home. I told him not to worry because I could not sanely deal with another full day on bed rest and even if something bad happened I wouldn't blame myself. The prognosis is already so bleak and the doctor actually told me to resume "normal" activities after that last visit. The only reason I rest is to keep the bleeding to a minimum, but sometimes it barely seems to make a difference.

Early in my pregnancy, a midwife told me that if a pregnancy was unhealthy, my body would miscarry even if I laid in bed all day. She also said that if the pregnancy was healthy and meant to be, it would stick, even if I ran marathons and carried toddlers around all day. In other words, nature plays a big part in how these things turn out. I realize my situation is unusual with the subchorionic bleed and the baby's growth problems, but doctors have passed the point of prescribing major interventions. As I said before, everything is one day at a time and just waiting and waiting until something happens for better or worse.

Another Rough Day at 29 Weeks

I woke up at 5 a.m. with what seemed to be Braxton Hicks contractions. They were tolerable but there was enough pain to wake me up. I sat up on the couch for a few hours and got to see the sun rise before falling asleep again. When I woke up later, I noticed that I was bleeding again and I had a big meltdown. Thank God Hubby was here to listen and hold me.

It seems like I am filled with a wide range of emotions right now. Naturally, with my grim diagnosis there is worry about the baby's welfare and whether he is still alive. There is also a feeling of grief about missing on all the good parts of being pregnant. I mean, yes, I've been able to hear my baby's heart beat, feel his kicks, and see his beautiful profile on ultrasound. His little feet are the cutest things ever! But I haven't really been able to celebrate or bond with other parents-to-be in the way I wanted to. I didn't really want a baby shower (even before all the bad news rolled in), but I did want to go to birthing and parenting classes and keep enjoying my prenatal yoga. I wanted to shop for the baby and do all the nesting stuff, but it's all been halted due to the tentative nature of this whole experience. I had a good long cry about all of that today.

The other feeling I am dealing with is fear about childbirth. The cramping and bleeding have me worried and I hope my experience in the hospital isn't going to be as scary as I think it will be. The doctors all seem focused on the baby's diagnosis and the fact that he probably won't survive. What they aren't noticing is me, the mother, who has no experience with this. Whether or not our boy is alive and breathing or a stillborn, there is no changing the fact that I will have to give birth to him. I don't know anything about it or what to expect. My husband will be there to hold my hand, but he is new to this too.

I wish the doctor at our regular clinic was empathic, more human, and able to provide some comfort. As I said in my last post, she has the demeanor of a crocodile. It also bothers me that the doctors and staff at the clinic don't seem to have all of our records from the university, so half the time I have to explain everything or they just make assumptions based on limited information.

Anyway, it was kind of a crappy day overall. The only good parts were my husband's hugs and a long phone call I shared with an old friend of mine from school. We talked for hours and she made me laugh. I also took a short walk, even though I probably shouldn't have. I just couldn't deal with another full day of bed rest and I'm not even sure how much good all the resting is doing anyway. I know it slows down the bleeding sometimes, but that's about it. It is possible that it helps the baby grow, but I was still doing all my normal activities during that time that he had the big growth spurt in November.

The Longest Month Ever

I am on partial bed rest, the weather is dark and gloomy, and it feels like this month will never end. I had my husband drive me to a nearby park today, so I could look out at the gray twilight and breath fresh air for awhile. As I reflected back on all the events that led up to this time, I could see how it's been one huge roller coaster of grief and hope. I started thinking I should write some of it down while I am in the middle of what feels like an endless waiting game.

The trouble started with my 20 week ultrasound in early November. The midwives at the clinic we usually go to referred me to specialists at the university because my placenta was thick, the umbilical cord had only one vein and one artery (instead of the more typical two arteries), and the baby was small for gestational age. I was told that the findings by themselves would not be of concern, but all three together could be a red flag for something serious.

I was dreading the trip to the university, but it actually wasn't too bad. We met with a genetic counselor, had another ultrasound, and saw a specialist in maternal and fetal medicine. Everyone there was very helpful and informative and I liked our doctor. I was told that a subchorionic hemorrhage, which had been spotted on ultrasound early in the pregnancy, had not resolved and it was likely causing problems with the placenta and impeding the baby's growth. She said the best she could do is keep an eye on him and see if things worsened or improved. Although the doctor was pretty sure the bleed was the issue, she said she couldn't rule out a chromosomal problem without an amniocentesis. I declined because I was worried about risk of miscarriage. I also knew that, unless my life was in danger, I would not abort the baby.

My husband and I went home filled with uncertainties and heavy hearts, but we tried to keep some hope alive. I was immersed in school and my two jobs and the weeks before the next ultrasound seemed to go by fast. During that time, we had a fetal echocardiogram and a team of experts confirmed that the baby's heart was structurally sound and functioning normally. When we returned to the prenatal specialist, she was very happy about this news and pleased to tell us that he'd also had a big growth spurt. She took the results of his latest ultrasound to a conference and a group of neonatal specialists concurred that things looked promising. I spite of all this, the doctor said the bleed behind the placenta had grown to 8 cm and she wanted to me to go home and be on bed rest before the next appointment on January 5th. She also told me to pack a suitcase because I would most likely be checked into the hospital for more bed rest and a possible c-section.

I was very concerned about the bleed and did try to take it easy, although bed rest seemed impossible for me over the holidays. We did postpone a planned family vacation to Utah, but I still had to finish my quarter at school. There was also lots of Christmas decorating, cooking, shopping, and wrapping to do. I did put my feet up as much as I could, but I know I probably did too much. Looking back it is hard to know whether it really would have made a difference anyway.

I had my hospital bag packed when January 5th rolled around and hubby and I returned to the university for another ultrasound. We were in shock when we heard the results. The doctor said the baby had not grown at all and there was no way he would survive a c-section at that point. She also said blood flow through the umbilical cord was abnormal (reverse flow) and that I shouldn't be surprised if I had a stillbirth within the next couple of weeks. My husband and I were beside ourselves with grief at this news. The doctor was very empathic and said it was okay to hold onto hope if we wanted to. She said the odds were against us, but sometimes a miracle can occur. Meanwhile, she wanted me to start having weekly checkups with OBs at our regular clinic and to report back for another ultrasound toward the end of the month.

The next day, we returned to our usual clinic and met with one of the obstetricians there. We were assigned the worst doctor possible for the state of mind we were in. She was an older lady, who might have been a good doctor in her day, but who was now obviously overloaded with case files and burned out. She was cold and blunt, telling us how foolish a c-section would be for a child this small and how there is obviously something wrong with him. She said he would never have a "normal" life. My husband was losing it in a nearby chair as I stared into the eyes of this crocodile of a person and asked how long our son had to live. She said he would probably be dead within two weeks. I thanked her for this information and allowed her to check his heart, which was beating strongly and beautifully as ever. The witch then measured my belly and took off to tend to the rest of the cattle. As soon as she left the office, I grabbed onto my husband and cried and cried.

After that horrible appointment, we went home and waited. Every time the baby stop moving for awhile, I would worry and obsess. The doctor at the university had told me that I wouldn't necessarily know if he was dead because my body would not automatically go into labor. She said that if he died I would need an induction at the hospital or he might just remain in there for weeks. I knew I was scheduled to go in for another heart check with that witch of a doctor in a couple weeks, but I doubted my ability to wait that long. The time just dragged and just when things didn't seem like they could get any worse, they did.

I woke up at five in the morning this past Wednesday and discovered I was bleeding bright red blood. I laid down to rest, which seemed to help, but when I stood up later on more blood gushed out. I e-mailed the specialist at the university and she told me to go to our usual clinic for an assessment. I found out that if I was going into labor this early (28 weeks) they would transfer me over to the university anyway.

I was thankful that the nurses and on-call doctor at our usual clinic that day were very human and they treated me great. They hooked me up to monitors and Hubby and I got to listen to our son's heart beat for a couple of hours. I was told that everything sounded normal and the baby was not under distress, although there was obviously some uterine activity happening. I was told that I am having Braxton Hicks contractions which are considered normal at this point in my pregnancy. The on-call doctor checked my cervix and said it was still closed. She said that most likely the bleeding was from the subchorionic hemorrhage behind the placenta.

I really appreciated talking to the on-call doctor that day because she seemed genuinely concerned about my case. She suggested I schedule regular half-hour appointments due to the high risk nature of my pregnancy. She also asked me what I would want if labor did start. Because the baby is still too small to survive a vaginal birth, she wanted to know if I would ask for a c-section. She explained that doctors prefer to do a low cut procedure (near the bikini line) in most cases, but my baby and my uterus are too small for that right now. Instead, I would have to have a more high risk vertical cut that would go through my stomach muscles. She said there would be the risk of bleeding to death, possible future impairment of bowel function, and even a chance that I could jeopardize hope of a future pregnancy. As disconcerting as this news was, I appreciated knowing it. I was able to ask myself whether I would want to take such scary risks with my body with the knowledge that this baby might not live very long or have quality of life. I decided (and my husband agreed) that the only way I would go through with the c-section is if the baby and my uterus grew enough that I could have the safer low cut procedure done.

I went home that night and continued to bleed on and off until the next day. I did have some painful cramps during the night, but they felt like irritation from the subchorionic bleed. By the next night the flow had changed to spotting that appeared to be old blood. Since then, I have been spotting on and off depending on how much activity I am doing. I find that resting seems to either slow it down or stop it.

So, as I said at the start of this post, I am in the middle of a waiting game. I have no way of knowing if this baby will have another growth spurt or not. If he survives another couple weeks, we will have another ultrasound and see. Meanwhile, I keep hoping the on-call doctor I spoke to was right and the spotting is just the clot behind the placenta shedding off. I can't help but worry about the possibility of preterm labor. Every day that I continue to feel the baby move, I am thankful. I know odds are against him in terms of survival with that reverse flow through the umbilical cord, but he is still kicking and we did hear his strong little heart beating earlier this week. My husband and his family are praying and fasting today, asking that our boy will grow like a weed. My dad, his wife, and of course my husband and I are praying too. There are so many people in dire need in this world right now, so I feel selfish asking for help from God. But that is where we are. My step-mom told me tonight that I should turn it over to God and realize there is little more we can do.

Post Holiday Monday

It's been a dark and misty day. I took a short walk in the rain to stave off a grumpy mood and did some brainstorming for a story I'm working on. My doctor said I have to take it easy. No more hikes, gym, or prenatal yoga classes. I have another appointment tomorrow and we'll see if I wind up on full bed rest in the hospital. I really hope not because there are still some things I'd like to get done at home. For one thing, we need to make room for the baby and his clothes, diapers, and other essentials. I know the kiddo will be sleeping in our bedroom, but we still need some storage space. Even a big shelf in our room would help. Otherwise we'll end up being one of those families who has constant clutter strewn about and nowhere to sit. No thanks!

Anyway, I hope the doc will just tell me to go home and keep chilling out. Maybe she'll even let me do a few projects as long as I don't lift anything heavy. I hope to set up my aquarium. That's a nice, low impact hobby and I have almost all the supplies now, except for the fish.

The holidays were pretty relaxed compared to some years. We postponed our travel plans, so I could take it easy. I admit I probably did too much at times with all the shopping, wrapping, and baking. We decorated for Christmas, cooked a turkey dinner with all the trimmings, and made a bunch of Christmas cookies. We also went to church and enjoyed a peaceful candle light service. Then, on New Year's Eve we went out for Mexican food and headed back to the abode to avoid the inevitable loud drunkenness out on the streets. There were beautiful fire works at midnight that we watched through our window. I was impressed by the mix of colors this year. Lots of blues, purples, red, green, pink, and a vibrant champagne shade. All together, it was a good night, accept when a party continued for several hours, sending clunking feet up and down the staircase near our bedroom until sunrise.