Most babies make it...but the reality of the situation is...some babies do not :(
I've been putting off this post for a few days. If you're currently pregnant, you may not want to continue reading. No reason to make yourself more paranoid than you probably already are (not criticizing. I was the MOST paranoid pregnant woman ever).
My good friend "T" is 42. She has never been married. She has wanted a child desperately for years now. She would be such an amazing mother. She tried going the adoption route, only to have the baby boy she had from 6 weeks old to one year old taken away and put back with his scum bag biological family. Because the current trend is to put babies back with their biological families whenever possible. And from what I see, a lot of times it's not a good choice. But anyway. She suffered heartbreak there.
She lost a baby.
I convinced her to see my fertility specialist, to see Dr. K. We both knew she was up against steep odds with her age. But what the hell-why not try. She went through three rounds of IVF with donor sperm. Nothing took. She was on her last round this past fall, and decided that this would be it if nothing happened. She got pregnant. She was so cautious for so long, given her age. But gradually, she became more and more excited.
I'd see T at work every Wednesday and we would talk about our pregnancies for hours. We would text each other after OB appointments-she ended up going to the same doctor I see.
T made it to 37 weeks. Full term. A healthy, beautiful baby that she was going to name Addison Catherine. Her nickname would be Addie.
T had stopped feeling the baby moving this past Saturday. She went into the doctor's office and they could not find the heart beat via doppler. The ultrasound confirmed fetal death. At 37 weeks. T had to be induced and had to do the unthinkable-deliver a dead infant. The official cause of death was placental abruption caused by blood clots in a section of the placenta.
I can't imagine. I feel sick. I feel guilty (despite knowing this has nothing to do with me and is not about me). This was pretty much her last chance at parenthood. I physically ache for T.
We went through our pregnancies together. We were going to have time off together and our daughters were going to grow up together. We live in the same school district-they were going to be in kindergarten together.
We went through the IVF experience together. We went through infertility together. We talked about our fears and cried when we got negative tests.
How did this happen?
The worst part is...they were going to take the baby out via emergency C-section three weeks ago because they lost her heart beat when T was being monitored. They assumed she had been wrapped in the cord and that, when she became untangled, her heart beat started again. Now I'm thinking it was the start of the placental issue. Why the hell didn't they take her? She would have maybe spent a month in the NICU-but would have been alive. T was literally stripped down and being wheeled into the operating room when Addie's heart beat came back. Obviously there was something wrong. Why didn't they just take her?????
I'm just devastated for her. She's lost two babies. How can anyone come back from that?
Say a little prayer for my friend...she needs it right now.
And please God, protect my babies and our whole family. Life is precious.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Monday, June 17, 2013
Whoa...its been awhile since I was last on here! I've been meaning to blog, but at the end of the day I'm just too darned drained (or lazy) to work up the motivation to write anything. I'm pretty much speaking in tongues by 9pm anyway. Just kidding. Things have actually been going really well (knock on wood). Hayden has been sleeping like a champ. She'll usually take her last feeding between 10-11 and then go down until 6-8am. I really can't complain about that at 7 1/2 weeks old!
Hayden has quite the little character. She's a little love...has been smiling for about three weeks now and is coo'ing and making other noises. I even got a little giggle out of her. She's also working on batting at her toys and grasping. Alex is loving the fact that "her baby" can now smile and "talk" to her. I love seeing them together. Sometimes I still can't believe that they are ours. That we made them.
The other day I was driving around a neighborhood near our old house. I was looking at landscaping, trying to get ideas for our new house (every house is pretty much professionally landscaped there). Anyway, it is the development that I always used to run in, trying to get myself as fit as possible to carry a pregnancy. And the memories came flooding back. Of pushing myself, thinking if I could just get fitter, that my pcos would "go away" and I would get pregnant on my own. I remember going on a run through that development, pretty much wailing, because I found out a girl that I knew just had her baby (an old "friend" who rubbed her pregnancy in my face when she knew I was having trouble). I remember going on walks through there, trying to clear my head, and seeing all these "family" houses with toys outside and swing sets. Sometimes I felt like I was torturing myself, running through that development-filled with young families.
I still remember all of it. All of those feelings. All that hurt. And I still think that infertility will always be a part of who I am (although I'm sure to a different extent as life moves on). I wonder if I will ever hear a story about someone getting pregnant after a month or by accident, and be completely unaffected by it? Or will some tiny, miniscule part always be jealous? It's almost like a knee-jerk reaction now, a habit to feel that way. And I certainly don't want any more kids right now, but there's still a part of me that hears those stories and a little twinge of longing fills me. Maybe it's because I know that the option to "just have" another child is really not open to us. Having another baby would involve medical assistance. And with two healthy (knock on wood) little girls, I'm pretty certain that part of my life is finished. I don't even know that we want to try the natural way for a third. I'm thinking we are happy with two. But the point is-most people have the option to "just see what happens".
But this longing is becoming less and less. In some big ways, infertility was a gift. I have the two girls I have because of it! I'm stronger because of it! I don't take parenthood for granted because we fought every step of the way for it. And I think that I'm that much more patient and "present" because of it. And I know I've helped other women going through it. And that gives me SO much satisfaction. So really, things have worked out the way they were supposed to. I cannot imagine having different children, and I would have if it weren't for PCOS.
Hayden has quite the little character. She's a little love...has been smiling for about three weeks now and is coo'ing and making other noises. I even got a little giggle out of her. She's also working on batting at her toys and grasping. Alex is loving the fact that "her baby" can now smile and "talk" to her. I love seeing them together. Sometimes I still can't believe that they are ours. That we made them.
The other day I was driving around a neighborhood near our old house. I was looking at landscaping, trying to get ideas for our new house (every house is pretty much professionally landscaped there). Anyway, it is the development that I always used to run in, trying to get myself as fit as possible to carry a pregnancy. And the memories came flooding back. Of pushing myself, thinking if I could just get fitter, that my pcos would "go away" and I would get pregnant on my own. I remember going on a run through that development, pretty much wailing, because I found out a girl that I knew just had her baby (an old "friend" who rubbed her pregnancy in my face when she knew I was having trouble). I remember going on walks through there, trying to clear my head, and seeing all these "family" houses with toys outside and swing sets. Sometimes I felt like I was torturing myself, running through that development-filled with young families.
I still remember all of it. All of those feelings. All that hurt. And I still think that infertility will always be a part of who I am (although I'm sure to a different extent as life moves on). I wonder if I will ever hear a story about someone getting pregnant after a month or by accident, and be completely unaffected by it? Or will some tiny, miniscule part always be jealous? It's almost like a knee-jerk reaction now, a habit to feel that way. And I certainly don't want any more kids right now, but there's still a part of me that hears those stories and a little twinge of longing fills me. Maybe it's because I know that the option to "just have" another child is really not open to us. Having another baby would involve medical assistance. And with two healthy (knock on wood) little girls, I'm pretty certain that part of my life is finished. I don't even know that we want to try the natural way for a third. I'm thinking we are happy with two. But the point is-most people have the option to "just see what happens".
But this longing is becoming less and less. In some big ways, infertility was a gift. I have the two girls I have because of it! I'm stronger because of it! I don't take parenthood for granted because we fought every step of the way for it. And I think that I'm that much more patient and "present" because of it. And I know I've helped other women going through it. And that gives me SO much satisfaction. So really, things have worked out the way they were supposed to. I cannot imagine having different children, and I would have if it weren't for PCOS.
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