Since the last post, we've gone to the doctor at least two more times. There was a Nuchal on Friday and a meeting with a Geneticist yesterday. So far they say everything looks fine. All the tests are fine. The measurements look fine. The heart rate looks fine. Everything looks fine.
So why am I not happy? Why does that just make my heart ache?
Guess I'm just kind of lost with this whole thing right now. It doesn't mean that I don't love Wombat; it just means that I'm a little lost, worried. I just want July to come.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Time Out
Yes, this is about my pregnancy and about a Moose, but I want to take time out to say that I have an amazing husband. Feel free to gag because it's going to be one of those gushy posts.
He's been jobless since August. Instead, his everyday is spent making sure that I have a healthy breakfast and lunch packed. Making me herbal tea in the morning; it used to be coffee. Yum! Cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, insulating, general maintenance, car/truck stuff, obviously looking for jobs, among whatever else he can get his hands on. The point being he's taken this jobless thing to really support me and our growing family.
Yes, he hates not being able to bring home a paycheck and support his pregnant wife. It's just not that way right now. It really shows me how important it is to have someone at home doing all the little things so that I can come home and "play" WiiFit.
It's awesome and I never tire of coming home to him. He's my sunshine everyday even though my office has no windows.
Feel free to tell me about the awesome things your significant other does which brightens your day.
He's been jobless since August. Instead, his everyday is spent making sure that I have a healthy breakfast and lunch packed. Making me herbal tea in the morning; it used to be coffee. Yum! Cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, insulating, general maintenance, car/truck stuff, obviously looking for jobs, among whatever else he can get his hands on. The point being he's taken this jobless thing to really support me and our growing family.
Yes, he hates not being able to bring home a paycheck and support his pregnant wife. It's just not that way right now. It really shows me how important it is to have someone at home doing all the little things so that I can come home and "play" WiiFit.
It's awesome and I never tire of coming home to him. He's my sunshine everyday even though my office has no windows.
Feel free to tell me about the awesome things your significant other does which brightens your day.
Doctor's Appointment
We have another doctor's appointment today. They're always scary to me. In fact, sometimes I sit in the waiting room with tears in my eyes. It makes me feel like everyone else thinks I'm not excited about this baby, but I am. I'm so excited that I refuse to admit to myself how excited I really am. It's just I don't want to hear "I'm sorry."
Today's appointment is with our regular doctor's office. No High Risk Doctor (HRD) today. And I have to remember my questions. Oh, I'm supposed to write them out so I won't forget them., but I don't have a Wombat baby notebook yet. Oops. Scrap paper isn't bad, right?
Today's appointment is with our regular doctor's office. No High Risk Doctor (HRD) today. And I have to remember my questions. Oh, I'm supposed to write them out so I won't forget them., but I don't have a Wombat baby notebook yet. Oops. Scrap paper isn't bad, right?
Monday, January 17, 2011
I want blind optimism
I want to go buy cute baby clothes. I really, really, really do. I want to buy some cute little baby things so that I can look at them and imagine Wombat wearing them, playing with them. I want to do the things that an unafraid pregnant mother does.
But I won't. I won't buy a single thing until we deliver a healthy baby. It just won't happen and I'm jealous.
I want blind optimism, which is something I never really had.
But I won't. I won't buy a single thing until we deliver a healthy baby. It just won't happen and I'm jealous.
I want blind optimism, which is something I never really had.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
We're Everywhere
I remember thinking after we lost Moose that I was alone. No one, other than my husband understood. I was wrong. We're everywhere.
When I returned to work, the first person to ask me about my baby, had lost his second child to a tube defect. It was, according to him, a 1 in 10,000 chance of happening. It just happened that it happened to him. Another co-worker lost a child, but his wife and he went on to have 6 other kids. When I told one of my grandmothers, it turns out she'd lost one in month 5. Something I'd never heard.
At my new work, I just told one of my bosses the news and said that I had tons of appointments due to fetal demise (he's older and not really emotional). He said that he and his wife lost their first. I think he teared up for a minute thinking about his lost son. He said that every birthday his wife still morns their baby. The rest of their children are grown with children of their own, yet they still miss their Angel Baby.
As I carry Wombat, I think of Moose every day. Probably every hour, if not every second. I will never forget Moose.
I don't know where I'm going with this, but the point is, if you've found my blog and you're going through that period of "I'm alone in this," you're not. Angel parents are all around us. They just may not be as vocal because, as you unfortunately know, having an Angel Baby hurts.
When I was at this point, I found comfort in DailyStrength.org. However, please know that there are a lot of pictures of Angel Babies on the site. There's also numerous Facebook groups. For in person meetings, try looking for SHARE in your community. It's the only in person group near me and I always forget to go. If you're in a larger city, there's probably something more. If not, please remember that you're not alone.
We're everywhere.
When I returned to work, the first person to ask me about my baby, had lost his second child to a tube defect. It was, according to him, a 1 in 10,000 chance of happening. It just happened that it happened to him. Another co-worker lost a child, but his wife and he went on to have 6 other kids. When I told one of my grandmothers, it turns out she'd lost one in month 5. Something I'd never heard.
At my new work, I just told one of my bosses the news and said that I had tons of appointments due to fetal demise (he's older and not really emotional). He said that he and his wife lost their first. I think he teared up for a minute thinking about his lost son. He said that every birthday his wife still morns their baby. The rest of their children are grown with children of their own, yet they still miss their Angel Baby.
As I carry Wombat, I think of Moose every day. Probably every hour, if not every second. I will never forget Moose.
I don't know where I'm going with this, but the point is, if you've found my blog and you're going through that period of "I'm alone in this," you're not. Angel parents are all around us. They just may not be as vocal because, as you unfortunately know, having an Angel Baby hurts.
When I was at this point, I found comfort in DailyStrength.org. However, please know that there are a lot of pictures of Angel Babies on the site. There's also numerous Facebook groups. For in person meetings, try looking for SHARE in your community. It's the only in person group near me and I always forget to go. If you're in a larger city, there's probably something more. If not, please remember that you're not alone.
We're everywhere.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
What if....?
I have to admit something. It's pretty big and really caught me off guard: I'm excited to have Wombat. There I said it. Yeah, that seems a little weird as every pregnant woman I've ever met is excited about her baby. However, after a loss, it's different. There fear is there. The knowledge of what can and did happen. How that feels. It's all there. It's experienced. It made me think that I wouldn't be excited until I actually heard the doctor say "congratulations!" Well, then it happened.
I was talking to my online pregnancy buddy who is due pretty much the same time as me. Let's call her "Mollie." Anyway, I realized in talking to "Mollie" that I was excited and admitted it to her. Her response was that she was really excited that I was excited. All this got me thinking as I was driving home...
At the end of July, I could actually make my lifelong dream of being a mother come true. I could be holding a baby who will throw up all over me, make me heave with stinky poop, possibly pee on me, break my heart when he/she cries, light up my entire soul with just one smile, and I have no idea what else. It's going to be a roller coaster.
When I think about it that way, how could I not get excited. Yes, another piece of my heart could disappear like it did with Moose, but what if it doesn't. What if this actually works out? What if I actually get to hold one of these?
Granted, my Wombat will actually be a person with a fantastic nickname, but still...what if?
I was talking to my online pregnancy buddy who is due pretty much the same time as me. Let's call her "Mollie." Anyway, I realized in talking to "Mollie" that I was excited and admitted it to her. Her response was that she was really excited that I was excited. All this got me thinking as I was driving home...
At the end of July, I could actually make my lifelong dream of being a mother come true. I could be holding a baby who will throw up all over me, make me heave with stinky poop, possibly pee on me, break my heart when he/she cries, light up my entire soul with just one smile, and I have no idea what else. It's going to be a roller coaster.
When I think about it that way, how could I not get excited. Yes, another piece of my heart could disappear like it did with Moose, but what if it doesn't. What if this actually works out? What if I actually get to hold one of these?
Granted, my Wombat will actually be a person with a fantastic nickname, but still...what if?
Monday, January 10, 2011
Then There's that 20%
We've started telling people that we're having a baby. They're all excited as is my husband. I'm excited too, but I know what could happen. Really, my husband and I both know. The stats are something like one in every four pregnancies don't make it. 80% of those losses happen in the first trimester, but then there's that 20%.
That 20%. Now statistics are something that some people despise. My thought is averages are averages. Maybe my numbers are better. Maybe not. According to my High Risk Doctor (HRD), who doesn't like numbers; we've got less than a 3% chance of something happening to Wombat late term, which is higher than a woman who has never suffered a loss. Still, that's a pretty good chance of holding a living Wombat. That's better than most grades I received in school. An A+ even. Hum.
However, when we tell people that we're pregnant, I just don't want them to hug me, congratulate me, tear up, basically anything a person would normally do when someone announces pregnancy. I don't feel that way.
Let's just act like I'm saying I bought a new coffee mug and save all the hyperness for the actual arrival of a healthy, breathing, happy Wombat.
And no, this, contrary to what many people seem to think, does not mean I'm "over" Moose, that I want to hear about _____'s baby, or I'm not scared out of my living mind that one day I'll either have a new urn on the mantle or I'll be responsible for a sweet, innocent, little baby and the decisions I make will have a lasting effect on someone's outlook on life and his/her sense of humor.
That 20%. Now statistics are something that some people despise. My thought is averages are averages. Maybe my numbers are better. Maybe not. According to my High Risk Doctor (HRD), who doesn't like numbers; we've got less than a 3% chance of something happening to Wombat late term, which is higher than a woman who has never suffered a loss. Still, that's a pretty good chance of holding a living Wombat. That's better than most grades I received in school. An A+ even. Hum.
However, when we tell people that we're pregnant, I just don't want them to hug me, congratulate me, tear up, basically anything a person would normally do when someone announces pregnancy. I don't feel that way.
Let's just act like I'm saying I bought a new coffee mug and save all the hyperness for the actual arrival of a healthy, breathing, happy Wombat.
And no, this, contrary to what many people seem to think, does not mean I'm "over" Moose, that I want to hear about _____'s baby, or I'm not scared out of my living mind that one day I'll either have a new urn on the mantle or I'll be responsible for a sweet, innocent, little baby and the decisions I make will have a lasting effect on someone's outlook on life and his/her sense of humor.
Update on Wombat
We went to the High Risk Doctor (HRD) Friday. It was kind of reassuring, but also upseting. Our doctor's office for Moose was supposed to supply us with all the information from Moose including autopsy, test results, bloodwork, whatever. Well, they didn't, so the HRD didn't have all the information that was needed. On top of that, the appointment was made wrong. My new doctor's office made the appointment like I had preterm labor as in delivered a healthy LIVING baby, just early instead of an Angel Baby. Ack! We didn't get to do all the things we were supposed to do because it was too busy. Now, were' going back to them two more times in a little more than a month and seeing the new doctor probably twice in the same amount of time. There's going to be lots of appointments.
Oh, and we're hoping to still have a Bradley Birth with Wombat, but the HRD doesn't want me to go past Week 39. Wombat, you hear that. Please, come before Week 39 if you're healthy and ready. I really don't want a C-section, but, if that what it takes for me to hold you, I'll do it.
Oh, and we're hoping to still have a Bradley Birth with Wombat, but the HRD doesn't want me to go past Week 39. Wombat, you hear that. Please, come before Week 39 if you're healthy and ready. I really don't want a C-section, but, if that what it takes for me to hold you, I'll do it.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
The Backstory
Hi-
So I’m writing this as an Angel Mom, a woman who lost her baby after week 25 in her pregnancy, who is now pregnant again. My hope is just to be open about what’s going on, how I feel, and shed light on a situation that is far more common than anyone realizes.
Back story:
I was pregnant with an amazing little baby who was due in January 2010. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, I went to all my doctor’s appointments, read many books about pregnancy and childbirth, took my prenatals, ate healthy, and all those other things expectant moms are supposed to do. I mean, I was even made fun of about how strict I was by other moms.
Anyway, during week 34, I started having what I thought were Braxton-Hicks contractions until we realized that they were every 20 minutes. We called the hospital and followed their instructions “drink water, eat something, lay down, if they don’t go away, come in.” They went away and we just laughed about the “oh my gosh, the baby is coming,” scare.
The next day it happened again. Contractions 20 minutes apart. I took a shower (because who wants to be stinky when they go into labor? No me.) and my mucus plug came out. Got out of the shower, called the hospital, went in, was admitted, and the nurse used the Doppler to find the heartbeat. She couldn’t. She grabbed her supervisor. She couldn’t find it. They called the doctor on a Saturday night. She couldn’t find it. And that’s what she did an ultrasound. All she said was
“I’m sorry.”
From there, if you’re an Angel Mom, you know. I need not say more.
For those of you who aren’t, Shakespeare couldn’t even explain with his silver pen that feeling, that moment, how it changed me forever, and how much I honestly hope you never understand.
I delivered our baby after more than 12 hours of labor with the coaching of my beyond amazing husband. We never held our baby, never saw our baby, and never found out the gender. What we do know is our baby’s nickname is Moose, Moose played air guitar to Rush, and loved to poke me in the ribs so Daddy would poke back. Obviously, Moose equaled Awesome Baby because Rush equals Awesome.
After many weeks of waiting, there was never a cause found for our loss. It means that we could try again or not. Clearly, I’m writing this blog about our next pregnancy, so we’ve decided to try again.
Wombat (yeah, we like weird nicknames for our babies in utero) is currently right over 11 weeks and due in late July. We don’t know what will happen, but I’ll do my best to document whatever events occur.
So I’m writing this as an Angel Mom, a woman who lost her baby after week 25 in her pregnancy, who is now pregnant again. My hope is just to be open about what’s going on, how I feel, and shed light on a situation that is far more common than anyone realizes.
Back story:
I was pregnant with an amazing little baby who was due in January 2010. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, I went to all my doctor’s appointments, read many books about pregnancy and childbirth, took my prenatals, ate healthy, and all those other things expectant moms are supposed to do. I mean, I was even made fun of about how strict I was by other moms.
Anyway, during week 34, I started having what I thought were Braxton-Hicks contractions until we realized that they were every 20 minutes. We called the hospital and followed their instructions “drink water, eat something, lay down, if they don’t go away, come in.” They went away and we just laughed about the “oh my gosh, the baby is coming,” scare.
The next day it happened again. Contractions 20 minutes apart. I took a shower (because who wants to be stinky when they go into labor? No me.) and my mucus plug came out. Got out of the shower, called the hospital, went in, was admitted, and the nurse used the Doppler to find the heartbeat. She couldn’t. She grabbed her supervisor. She couldn’t find it. They called the doctor on a Saturday night. She couldn’t find it. And that’s what she did an ultrasound. All she said was
“I’m sorry.”
From there, if you’re an Angel Mom, you know. I need not say more.
For those of you who aren’t, Shakespeare couldn’t even explain with his silver pen that feeling, that moment, how it changed me forever, and how much I honestly hope you never understand.
I delivered our baby after more than 12 hours of labor with the coaching of my beyond amazing husband. We never held our baby, never saw our baby, and never found out the gender. What we do know is our baby’s nickname is Moose, Moose played air guitar to Rush, and loved to poke me in the ribs so Daddy would poke back. Obviously, Moose equaled Awesome Baby because Rush equals Awesome.
After many weeks of waiting, there was never a cause found for our loss. It means that we could try again or not. Clearly, I’m writing this blog about our next pregnancy, so we’ve decided to try again.
Wombat (yeah, we like weird nicknames for our babies in utero) is currently right over 11 weeks and due in late July. We don’t know what will happen, but I’ll do my best to document whatever events occur.
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