Keep Going.....Part 2

March 17, 2014. St. Patrick's Day. It was a Monday and was really just a regular Monday for us. Work, school, dinner, dishes, stuff. It could not have been a more normal day.

For about a week prior to this day I had started feeling what I believed were little flutters. I was SO excited!! After two losses I could feel the little baby that was moving around in my belly. I remember texting my husband and telling him how much I loved that feeling. 

So after dinner and dishes and some laundry and a couple of phone calls to start planning a big family vacation we were going to take in the summer (and try to plan around my late summer due date), the evening was winding down. My husband was getting our son in the bathtub and starting the bedtime process   (and yes, many nights it is a process!). I finished what I was doing and went to finally change out of my work clothes. I realized I was spotting. 

Absolute panic set in. 

My heart started racing, I had to calm myself down and try to hold it together so I could figure out if it was real and try to focus on what I needed to do. 

For anyone who is pregnant, spotting is terrifying. For someone who has had two prior miscarriages, spotting is your worst nightmare multiplied by 10,000. It was all I could do to keep myself pulled together and upright. 

I got my husband's attention and he joined me in our room. I told him what was happening and that I really didn't know what to do. I did know what to do, but nothing seemed real at that moment and I was incapable of making a decision. He told me to take a deep breath and call my Mom. She would at least help refocus me and help calm me down. 

After talking to my Mom for a couple of minutes I then called the exchange to Dr. D's office. Then I had to wait for him to call me back. I do not remember how long it took, and I don't think it took very long, but it felt like an eternity. 

Dr. D finally called (seriously, it really only took a few minutes....maybe 10 for him to call me back) and we decided, because of my history, the best thing to do was to go to the hospital to be checked out. Make sure the baby was OK and see what was going on. Several times he said to me......Sarah, you are 13 weeks and 4 days, I know we don't feel 100% comfortable with this pregnancy yet, but hang in there. We will figure this out. 

So then it was off to the hospital. After I got off of the phone with Dr. D, I called my Mom back. My Dad was coming to our house to sit with our son, who we went ahead and put to bed like nothing was was wrong. My Mom was going to meet us at the hospital. 

As soon as my Dad arrived, my husband and I left. It was a very quiet drive. Neither one of us knew exactly what to say. It was cold, it was dark and we were both scared. There really was nothing to say.

We arrived at the hospital and walked into the Maternity Welcome Center as directed. My Mom was there waiting for us. It was quiet and I was quickly taken back to be admitted and taken to a room. Once I was settled they told me someone would be in shortly to check on the baby. My heart was racing. My blood pressure was out of control. Trying to keep calm was useless. But I was trying. 

Soon someone walked in my room to take my medical history and check on the baby. She started asking medical history questions and I was quickly annoyed. I know she was just doing her job and why all of those questions are important, but I wanted to know what was going on. Can't we do the medical history part later????? When she was done she then came over and tried to locate a heartbeat with a Doppler. She tried and tried and tried. I panicked and panicked and panicked. I looked over at my husband who was sitting next to the bed and my eyes pleaded with him to make this not real. We had been here before. 

She tried and tried and tried. It got to the point where I just wanted her to stop trying. I needed an ultrasound and I needed it now. She finally stopped and said she would send in the nurse to scan me. 

It wasn't more than a couple of minutes and a nurse walked in to scan me. I knew her. She was a friend of my Mom's and we had met before. That helped a little. But my anxiety level was still increasing. I just wanted to know. She started to scan me and I knew almost immediately. I could see the screen and very easily make out the baby, and there was no heartbeat. I was completely numb. I just looked at my husband and again wanted this to not be real. 

The nurse left for a second and then came back with my Mom, who had been patiently waiting outside. She knew what was going on. They both looked at the ultrasound images again. There was nothing. It was over. My mom stayed with us for a few minutes while my nurse went to call Dr. D. 

It was late, almost 11:00. All of the sudden I was exhausted. I didn't want to move, I didn't want to do anything. My husband moved over and sat on the bed with me. I laid my head on his shoulder and we were both very quiet for a long time. Neither of us could believe we were here again. It almost seemed impossible. 

Our quiet was interrupted by my nurse who came back in to say Dr. D wanted to see us in the office first thing the next morning. He said to call his nurse early and she would get me in before his other appointments for the day. 

I was numb. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. I couldn't move. I just sat on the bed, held on to my husband and stared. It was over. The pregnancy we thought was finally the one. I was almost 14 weeks. What the hell????? 

After a little time passed, we started pulling ourselves together so we could just go home. It was late. We were both exhausted. And I was sure I wasn't going to sleep, but I wanted to be home in my own bed. 

I don't really remember the drive home. It was quiet. There still wasn't much to say. Disbelief and shock had taken ahold of us both. I spent the second half of our 20 minute drive home steeling myself to see my Dad. He was at our house with our sleeping kiddo. I knew seeing him would bring the tears I was trying to stop. And he hates it when I cry. Funny how in the midst of this unbelievable thing, my only concern at that moment was not upsetting my Dad. 

We got home. I held it together. It was after midnight so my Dad didn't stay long. We headed to bed. 

I was sure I wouldn't sleep. My mind was racing. I curled up next to my husband and closed my eyes. To my surprise, after what seemed like only a few minutes I opened them again and it was morning. It was Tuesday. Our son had school and my husband was going to work for a little while. I got up so I could shower and get ready. I knew Dr. D's nurse would be in at 7:30 and I was going to call her as soon as I could. 

Soon, everyone was gone and the house was quiet. I had to make two phone calls. One to the nurse and the other to my boss. At 7:45 I called Dr. D's office. His nurse answered quickly and already knew what was going on. She said we should come in at 9:00. I had time only to finish getting ready and call my boss.

Not having time to sit around and think is always the option I prefer. Keeping busy, especially at first, is what I do. I know it is really not the best choice, but it is what keeps me going and maybe allows me to heal a little bit before the full reality of another loss hits me.

So I moved quickly that morning. Phone calls made, showered, dressed and ready to leave so I could be at Dr. D's office at 9am. My husband was meeting me there.

It is time to share.

I started this blog in April. It was just for me. I needed a place to write. To vent. To get it all out of my head. Someplace to go to remember when I needed to.

The story in this blog is deeply personal, but I knew I would share when I was ready. 

I am ready. 

I have discovered in this journey that so many people have similar stories, have gone through similar journeys. I have discovered talking about what I have been through, what I have experienced and what I have learned is helpful. Helpful, not only for others who are going through something similar, but helpful for me. I am not alone. I can help someone else. 

Help someone else. That is my goal in writing and sharing my story. The heartbreak I have experienced, that my husband has experienced, is immense. If we can take our heartbreak and what we have learned and help someone else through their journey, maybe it can provide a little bit of purpose to what we have gone through. Maybe. Just a little. 

I will continue to write, tell the rest of our story to date. And I am always here for anyone who needs to share, talk, vent, cry, laugh or just have someone to lean on. Always. 

Keep going.

So we were now a couple who had two consecutive miscarriages. That seemed unbelievable. But, we had a plan. And I was determined to stick to our plan and keep going. I was so ready to get past all of this, get pregnant, stay pregnant and complete our family.

October came and it was time to start trying again. We were only going to try for two months before taking another break as my husband was scheduled to have major foot surgery right before Thanksgiving and we did not want to be in the middle of fertility cycles and have him recovering from surgery and the holidays in full swing all at the same time (yikes! stress!). 

I will be honest and say I felt a little pressure. I knew if we didn't get pregnant during the next two cycles, chances were it would be at least 6 months before we started fertility cycles again. Not that we ever stop trying to get pregnant. But our chances are much slimmer without fertility meds. 

But, we knew what worked and the next two cycles were like this: 

October cycle: Ok. I honestly don't remember the specifics. I took Femara again and followed all of the same steps we had in previous cycles. I do remember having good left side follicles which was encouraging. However, negative test. Not this month. 

November cycle: More of the same.  Femara again. Good, really good, left side follicles. There were high fives and fist bumps in the Dr. D's office again. We were all hopeful. But pregnancy test was negative. I was crushed. And it was time for our break and hubby's foot surgery. 

My husband had a calcaneal osteotomy the day before Thanksgiving, 2013. (Basically, they broke his heel bone and moved it to correct an alignment issue). It was a big deal. He had a ton of pain. He was in splints and casts and on crutches for almost two months. And in a boot for so much longer than that. It was the holidays and we had a ton going on. Our son was four and VERY excited about Christmas! We turned our attention to getting my husband literally back on his feet and focusing on the holidays and our family. 

We pulled off an amazing Christmas for our 4 year old. Seeing it through his eyes was the best gift ever! 

Shortly after the new year, I was in the kitchen one afternoon and all of the sudden realized I did not feel very well. It passed quickly and I kind of brushed it off. It was weird, but very familiar all at the same time. 

A couple of days and a few more waves of nausea later, I stopped at Target and bought a pregnancy test. I truly did not think I was pregnant, but that is also a defense mechanism I have so I do not get my hopes up. It had also been 35 days since my last period. I generally have long cycles, but even for me this was starting to be too long. 

The next morning I took the test and it was INSTANTLY positive! I could hardly contain myself! I ran out of the bathroom and told my husband. Both of us were ecstatic!! And my very first thought was......we did this on our own with no fertility help......this one was meant to be! 

We practically ran to Dr. D's office. He wanted to see me immediately. Blood tests confirmed.....I was pregnant and things looked good! He started me on progesterone just to be safe and I was scheduled for an ultrasound just over a week later. 

Everyone was elated! I felt terrible, which was a good sign. The nausea and exhaustion set in very quickly. And after two losses, I was grateful for it. They always say, the sicker you are the better (although for me, I have been super nauseous with all of my pregnancies so......). 

Soon it was ultrasound time! I was SO excited! The baby looked great. Size was perfect. Heartbeat was perfect. Everything was perfect. I was just past 7 weeks and life was good. There were nerves for sure, but I had a good feeling. Everyone did. The one thing I kept holding on to was we did this without fertility treatments......maybe it was the one. 

At 10 weeks I had another appointment and ultrasound. All was perfect! We even got to as the baby move a little on the ultrasound. I cried. It was amazing! Doc said he was happy with where I was and how things were going. I was mostly out of the woods as my chances of miscarriage after 10 weeks were so very slim. He wanted to see me again in 4 weeks. I really wanted to come back sooner, but he said there was really no reason. Ok. 4 weeks it is. (Of course I know I can always call if anything is wrong). 

One week later, at 11 weeks, I got an appointment reminder for my annual exam with Dr. D that I had scheduled months prior and completely forgotten about. Ha! Well, guess I didn't have to wait 4 weeks! All was still well. He scanned me again simply because I was in the office and he could. Baby looked great, heartbeat was perfect! Three more weeks and we would be all the way out of the woods and well into my second trimester. 

Then, at 13 weeks and 4 days, my world stopped. 

Am I amazing?

Over the last several years I have been told many, many times how amazing I am.

“Sarah, you are SO amazing. I don’t think I could ever go through what you have been through.” 

Amazing. Quite a compliment, and I take it as such.  And I know those who tell me I am amazing mean it in the best way possible.

But am I amazing? Has what I have been through made me amazing? I'm not so sure. Or at least not sure I want to be known as amazing because of what I have been through. Losing four babies sucks. 

What about strong? I am told that often as well.....you are such a strong person......Am I strong? I suppose. I am still standing four pregnancy losses later. I am still standing a year and a half into an endometriosis diagnosis that has ended our journey to have a second child. I am still smiling. I don't always feel strong. But I suppose I am. I have made it through all of this so far. I keep going. I have to keep going. 

Our journey has changed who I am. It has made me a stronger woman. It has made me a more compassionate person. It has made me more aware of my emotions, my limits, and my love for my family. It has taught me the importance of enjoying all of life's moments, because you never know what will happen next.

And maybe, it has made me amazing (although I'm still not sure about that one.) 

A Fresh Start

After my hysterosalpingogram, we decided to take a few months off. It was Christmas and we wanted to give ourselves a break, enjoy the holidays and use the new year as a fresh start on this journey. 

I saw Dr. D in late February, 2013 for my annual exam. We talked about getting started with fertility treatments again and he said we could come back whenever we were ready. I was healed and physically ready to start trying again. So with my next cycle we did.

March, 2013 - Clomid cycle. Not great results. The best follicles were all on my right ovary and since my right tube was blocked it was not likely I would get pregnant. But as Dr. D always reminds me, nothing is impossible. However, that cycle's pregnancy test was negative. 

April - Clomid cycle. Again, all of the biggest and best follicles were on the right.  There was nothing on the left. It was not hopeful, but there was always a chance. Negative test. 

May - Clomid cycle. For the third month in a row the best follicles were on the right, and there was almost nothing on the left. I was devastated. Doc said if we didn't get pregnant (which was highly unlikely again, yet still not impossible), we would regroup next month and try something different.

There are options. 

Hearing that helped a little, but I was still frustrated. My current cycle was unlikely to end with a positive test and that was hard. After my appointment, I surrounded myself with my family for the rest of the day. It was a good distraction. And as expected - two weeks later the pregnancy test was negative. 

June - My husband went with me to see Dr. D. He doesn't usually accompany me to fertility appointments because they are fast and he really doesn't need to be there (appointments are always the same.....ultrasound then meet with Dr. D and he would write whatever prescriptions I needed and give me instruction). This appointment was a little different. We needed to make some changes and I needed my husband there. So we sat in the very comfortable chairs in Dr. D's office, chairs I have become very familiar with, and he walked us through all of our options. There were several choices including a medication change and IVF. 

To be honest IVF was my first choice. And if it were not for the cost we may have made that choice. However, since we knew it is possible for me to get pregnant without IVF, we decided to start with just a change in medication and see what happened. 

Dr. D prescribed Femara for me. He said he had seen many patients have success with Femara when Clomid didn't work. I felt hopeful for the first time in a few months. Maybe this would do the trick. 

The Femara definitely helped "wake up" my left ovary. For my June cycle we saw big beautiful follicles on the left side. Everyone....me, husband and Doc.....were so very excited! There may have even been a couple of high fives in the office. Ha!! 

However, my cycle ended with a negative pregnancy test. 

But now we knew what worked and with my July cycle we stayed with the Femara.

July, 2013 - We had a family vacation planned and were going to be out of town during the fertile days of my cycle. I was very excited for our trip. We needed this trip and had a relaxing week planned, just me, my husband and our then almost 4 year old son. 

Just before we left town I went to see Dr. D for a day 10 ultrasound and all looked well. I had great follicles on the left side. He really wished I could have come back two days later as he wanted to do another ultrasound on day 12, right before my hcG trigger shot. However, we were going to be gone and even though I am willing to do just about anything to be successful in getting pregnant again, driving 3 1/2 hours home for an appointment and then 3 1/2 hours back again really wasn't what I wanted to do. He said we were ok without the additional ultrasound, but I should call him early in the morning on my day 12 if my ovulation predictor test was still negative. 

So off we went. Vacation bound!  The morning of my day 12 the ovulation predictor was still negative so I called Dr. D. It was a Sunday and he was on call for the weekend so I got him directly. He wanted to call in an hcG trigger shot for me so I needed to find a local pharmacy that had what he wanted and then text him the information. So I started making phone calls. No one had the medication I needed in stock. I called 8 pharmacies in the area and one at a major hospital 30 minutes away.  Every pharmacy I talked to said they could get it for me the next day, but that was too late. I needed it that day. I was bummed. I texted Dr. D and let him know. He called me back a little while later and said he had a good feeling and we would be ok. Not to worry about the trigger shot. Keep doing the ovulation predictor and trust it. So we did. 

The next two weeks really flew by. They usually always seem so long. I just want to get to the day I can test and know if I am pregnant. But we had so much going on over those two weeks.....the end of vacation, getting back to our regular life after vacation and then our son's birthday party. Before I knew it, the two weeks had passed and I could test. 

IT WAS POSITIVE!!!!!!! 

I was overjoyed!! I ran straight out of the bathroom and kissed my husband!  He was overjoyed!!!! It worked! We were finally pregnant again. 

I called Dr. D's nurse immediately and told her the good news! She was just as thrilled as we were! However, Dr. D was out of the office for the week. Our choices were to see the nurse practitioner immediately or wait for him to be back in the office in one week. I opted to wait. I needed to see Dr. D when I went. If anything was wrong I needed it to be him who told us. 

I felt really great that week. It was too soon for me to be feeling bad yet (at least based on my two prior pregnancies). I was just happy. All of the darkness from our first loss, the complications after and the prior five months of fertility treatments seemed to disappear. 

I was scheduled to see Dr. D on Monday August 19, 2013. 

On Saturday August 17 we had a great family day. My husband, son and I went to a local summer festival and enjoyed being outside and together as a family. The weather was perfect. We talked about what it would be like the following year when we came to the festival and had two kiddos. Even though my last pregnancy had ended in miscarriage, I had no worry this one would be the same. 

When we got home everyone was tired. I put our son down for his nap. My husband left to run an errand and I curled up on the couch to enjoy the quiet and take a Saturday afternoon nap.  

When I woke up I went to the bathroom and discovered I was spotting. I panicked. I was shaking. I grabbed my phone and called my husband who was still not home from his errand. He was almost home and said he would be right there. I just sat there, waited for him and stared until he came in the house. 

Once he was there we both were numb. I told him what I saw and how I felt. Truly I felt fine, but was spotting. I decided to call the exchange just to see what they said. 

I knew Dr. D was out of town so I would talk to one of the other doctors. Dr. B called me back. He said because I was so early (just shy of 6 weeks), there really wasn't much they could do. He said I should take it easy for the rest of the weekend, keep my appointment with Dr. D on Monday and he would find out what was going on. If I needed anything the next day to let him know. 

I was devastated. Even though my rational mind knew that spotting was ok and didn't necessarily mean I was miscarrying, I just felt like it was over. 

My husband and I just sat there and held on to each other. Again. Really? Why?????

The next day my bleeding was heavier, like a normal period. It was over. I was miscarrying again. 

On Monday we went to my appointment with Dr. D. I had called his nurse earlier in the day to let her know I was bleeding. When Dr. D walked in the room he was just as devastated as we were. 

I had an ultrasound that showed everything had passed already. It truly was over.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to curl up in a ball and just sob. 

Dr. D said we didn't have to wait to start trying again. At the start of my next period we could come back if we wanted to and he would get us started with Femara again. We knew it worked. 

So that was the plan. And I really liked having a plan. It gave me something to focus on and look forward to. 

We still lost another baby. We were still completely devastated. It was our second loss in a row. My heart had another hole in it. But we had a plan. 

Days

It is just another day. Most likely a work day. A normal day. But to me, to us, there is a significance that makes it a hard day. A day I may cry. A day I may want to hide in my bed. And the further we get into this journey, the more days we have. 

Due dates.

These are the days I thought I was going to deliver a baby. Another little person was going to join our family. One of the best days of my life, tied only with the day I married my husband and the birth of our son. But instead it is a day that I get to be smacked in the face with a reminder of what happened. Due dates are the days I find the hardest. The day I worry about getting to and past the most. 

My due dates: 

March 13, 2013

April 25, 2014

September 18, 2014

August 28, 2015

Anniversary of loss. 

These are the days our life turned almost completely upside down. The days that I remember as stressful, painful, terrible. And days I sometimes would like to remove from my memory. They are the days that make the next pregnancy that much more stressful. The days that make each pain, twitch or cramp during the next pregnancy terrifying. They are days imprinted on my heart forever. 

My losses happened on:

12 weeks: August 29, 2012

6 weeks: August 17, 2013

14 weeks: March 17, 2014

12 weeks: February 15, 2015

Pregnant again. (For the record....I am NOT currently pregnant. I am still healing from my surgery a few months ago.)

Those days I found out I was pregnant again came with some of the most mixed emotions I have ever experienced. My first and biggest emotion is pure joy. Seeing a positive pregnancy test is amazing! Relief follows as I am finally pregnant again. Getting pregnant for us is not always easy and every negative pregnancy test feels like a punch in the gut. So a positive test is a huge relief. 

Then the nerves set in. I have had multiple miscarriages. And it seems all for different reasons. There is never a guarantee with pregnancy, but with me it feels like almost no guarantee. I try to stay calm and hopeful. Getting to the doctor and seeing through labs and ultrasounds that all is going ok is critical. It helps keep me focused and somewhat calm. I try to take things one day at a time. 

I also find myself not allowing thoughts about due dates and 20 week ultrasounds and finding out what we are having. I am usually afraid (read: superstitious) about getting to far ahead of ourselves. It is a long long fall when you lose a baby. I do everything I can to protect myself from making it any longer. That is the hard truth. I want to be excited. I want to think about the future and having another baby. I want to enjoy every minute of being pregnant. But I find myself afraid to. 

Everyday. 

Not a day goes by I don't think about the babies I lost. They are part of me. Part of us. Although I never got to meet them, I love them with all of my heart. I look at our son and am so grateful for him. I know how amazing it is that we have him. That I get to be his mom. I do not take that for granted. I hug him a little tighter. Snuggle with him a little longer. And enjoy every single minute. ❤️

To each her own

I had a conversation the other day with a co-worker who lost her Mom recently. She told me she was doing OK. Trying to get back into 'real life' just a few days after. I know that feeling, not from the loss of a parent, but after the loss of my babies. I just let her talk as sometimes for me, that was the most therapeutic. Just letting it all out. We were talking about loss and how to deal with it. And she seemed frustrated about something.

As we talked (really she talked and I was listening), she started telling me about the day her mom died and how she wanted to handle it in her own way and not allow anyone else to dictate what she was supposed to do. That statement really struck me.

How was she supposed to handle it? Is there a right way?

Absolutely not. There is not a right way or a wrong way. 

Her family, most likely not intentionally, was pushing her to handle things the same way they were. That was not what she wanted. She wanted to handle things the way she wanted to. Do what worked for her. And she made sure that what she wanted was what happened.

Everyone needs to do things in their own way. And everyone should be allowed to do things in their own way. Especially when the thing is dealing with death - whether it be the death of a parent, spouse, friend, child or even a child you have not met.

Here are some things I have learned:

There is no time limit to grieve and no defined set of rules on how to grieve. 
Some people grieve quickly. They are able to say their goodbyes and move on. They are not heartless or uncaring. It is just how they are. Just how they work. My husband is like this. With all of our losses he moves on quickly. Yes he is sad. Yes he hurts. Yes he wishes they had not happened. Yes they have had impact on him. But he gets back to 'real life' quickly. It is hard for me to understand, but I know that is how he is, how he deals and I respect that. I know what we have been through is something he will always feel and will always be part of him.

Others grieve for a long time. There should not be a time limit placed on grieving. A day. A week. A month. A year. A lifetime. Any amount of time necessary. I lost my babies. I will never get over that completely. 

But at the same time, it is important not to dwell on how terrible it is, how painful it is and how sad I am. While grieving is very important and everyone should be allowed to take their time, that person should also remember to get up everyday, pull himself/herself together and try to work toward moving forward. Sure, there were (are) lots of days I wanted to stay in my PJs and be sad. However, I tried to at least get up, take a shower and find something productive to do that day....big or small, only as much as I could handle.....because I knew that was important.

Be mindful and aware of others and allow them to handle in their own way. 

Everyone has their own way. Grieving is very personal. And a grieving person needs support from those around him/her. Always. For me the support has always been what helps clear the fog. However, when the support becomes pushing to "stop crying" or "it is time to move on", I do not respond well. There is a fine, almost invisible line, for those who are supporting a grieving person between support and pushing. It is an easy line to cross. If you do, try to be aware of it and don't be offended if the person you were trying to help reacts poorly. Emotions are raw, always. 

I also feel myself being very particular who I surrounded myself with. Or at least being aware of who I did and did not want to be around. Early on after each of my losses I remember saying this many times.....I was just not ready to see people. I only wanted to be with my husband, our son, my mom (sometimes), my sister (sometimes), a close friend (sometimes). The general population was really not something I wanted to deal with. Even other members of my family were not really people I wanted to be around. It wasn't personal, I love my family and my husband's family. It was just too much for me to deal with too many people. And I didn't worry about it. I knew they understood.

Listen. 

For me, telling my story is important. It helps me handle the emotion. And I have discovered it helps people who have been through this and felt alone. I don't walk around yelling my story or pushing it in the face of those who don't want to know or don't need to know. But, if you have asked me and I am telling you, please listen to me. What I am telling you is the most difficult thing I have gone through. And I am telling you because I need the support you offered. Don't talk too much - even though you are just trying to help. As I was talking to my co-worker, I discovered I had lots of advice, things I could tell her about what worked for me. But, I kept most of it to myself because I could tell, my just standing there and listening to her was just what she needed and when she needed or wanted advice, she asked.