10 weeks

Today, I am exactly ten weeks into my second pregnancy. I am feeling surprisingly good. I had a little bit of nausea this afternoon, but otherwise, that's been fine. Food aversions and/or cravings haven't started yet, and I definitely don't have back pain like I did the last time. I remember having back pain pretty much the entire time, and I asked about it at every appointment, only to be told it was normal "round ligament pain." I should have insisted it was more, because it obviously was.

Since my last entry, I had an appointment last night. Apparently, I was two days early for any of the 10-week blood tests that needed to be done. "I told you to come back in 4 weeks, you came back in 3 weeks, 5 days." Uuuuuuugh! Who knew two days made such a big difference? So, I have to be back tomorrow morning for the blood work. But, we did get to hear the baby's heartbeat. It's nice and strong at about 170. Right where it should be.

I didn't have a long list of questions this time like I usually do, but if you're ready for some TMI, I did have some concerns. Because, listen, pregnancy is not glamorous. It's not all peaches and roses, and even though this is our "rainbow" baby, it's not rainbows and unicorns either. Sometimes it's downright disgusting. That being said, I am constipated as hell. Since my last appointment, I've been to the bathroom a total of about 4 times. That's more or less once a week. No good. So, the doctor suggested Metamucil. I searched for it briefly today and only found the kind that lessen your appetite. I definitely don't want that right now, so I'll have to search for more this weekend.

Another question was about allergies. Because, seriously, I can't breathe. And this happened during my last pregnancy, too, and I took my inhaler a few times, but I really wasn't supposed to. I know that wasn't the cause of the loss, but still...I'd rather not take it again. I don't have the typical runny nose or itchy eyes, or scratchy throat, etc. Literally just trouble breathing. But, sometimes it nearly throws me into a panic attack because it's scary. So, the doctor suggested Zyrtec or Claritin...both of which cause drowsiness, and honestly, I cannot handle being any more tired than I am. So, I may just have to deal with this one. We'll see how it goes.

I also asked if I could eat hot dogs. I know that seems really, really random, but I've always heard that you're not supposed to eat them when you're pregnant. But, they weren't listed on any of the paperwork I received telling me what not to eat. I also didn't find any mention of it online. So, I asked. Because the 4th of July is coming up and it's not the 4th of July without hot dogs. I was pregnant last 4th too and didn't get to have any, so I WANT ONE! Dr. D said it's fine, as long as it's cooked. Obviously.

But, anyway, since I'm into my tenth week now, things are getting serious, I guess. Second trimester is only two weeks away. At this time in my last pregnancy, I was definitely not showing at all. Maybe a little bit of bloating, but nothing noticeable. Today, I look like this:

I know it's hard to tell, but that's just about what I looked like when I lost my last pregnancy at 22 weeks. I'm not even halfway to that point yet. Dr. D assures me there's only one in there, though. 

It's getting harder to hide it at work. And I don't necessarily want to hide it, but I'm not quite ready for everyone to be asking how I feel all the time. I hate it. I hate being the center of attention. And I know this time, everyone will be more worried because of how catastrophic my last pregnancy was. I am excited to be expecting my rainbow, but not excited to face the well-meaning questioners. I'm sure they will be talking amongst themselves soon! Who will be the first one to ask?! 

Aside from that, the changes between this pregnancy and the last are pretty minor. I've had virtually no morning sickness with both. And with both, if it wasn't for the tiny little bump and the knowledge that I was pregnant, I probably wouldn't know. I'm just tired. That's my biggest complaint. However, I'd say the biggest change is the amount of medication I'm on. Before I got pregnant for the first time, I was only on two medications:

The pink one is for acid reflux, which I've been taking since college. The white one is for depression, which I've been taking about five or six years now. Very low dosage. Easily part of my daily routine. I don't even think about them anymore. 

The cause of my loss was due to sudden and severe early onset pre-eclampsia caused by a clotting disorder I didn't know I had. Because my blood pressure spiked so high (high 100s/low 100s), I was put on a blood pressure medication, which I've needed to stay on since then. So, now we're up to three:

Still not a huge deal. Tiny pill, but it's taken twice a day, so now instead of taking all my pills at once, I need to remember a second time during the day. Annoying but manageable. 

After I was diagnosed with the clotting disorder, I was told that any further pregnancies would require baby aspirin and a blood-thinner injection. I was crushed, to be honest. Needles are not my favorite. I have avoided them at all costs until this point in my life. I've cancelled doctor appointments to avoid getting them. My first blood draw as an adult was when I got pregnant. I'm a baby, truly. So, one of my first thoughts was, "is this even worth it at this point?" It seemed daunting. It seemed impossible. And man, was I mad. Why me? There are so many people out there popping out babies they shouldn't be having. People with no security, no stability, addicted to drugs, etc. And here I am, working my whole life to get to a point where I'd feel comfortable bringing a baby into the world, and I've basically been told I can't. M.A.D.

It was a process at first. I had days where I knew I was most definitely not okay. I got lost on the way home from work one day because of a detour, and I kept missing the turn I needed, and I just broke down at a stop sign and kept repeating to myself, "I am not okay." I came home, hugged my husband, and said with tears in my eyes that there was a chance this wouldn't happen for us. He said he knew and held me while I let it out. So, yes, I mourned this life I thought I would have. And perhaps that was dramatic of me, because certainly people with this condition have children all the time. But, for me, it didn't seem possible.

But, I got over it, so to speak. We made a plan. We'd try twice more, and if it didn't happen, then we'd discuss other options. I refuse to be the person who spends her entire life trying to have a baby. My physical and mental health can't handle it. So, we waited until we got the okay and started trying again. And just like before, we succeeded on the first try! How crazy that I can get pregnant so easily, but staying pregnant is the challenge. Frustrating.

Since then, you've been on the journey with me. And my medications now look like this:

What's been added there is the blood thinner injection (once a day), the baby aspirin (once a day, tiny little yellow pill), and a prenatal vitamin (twice a day), which for some reason is the hardest of all of them for me to take.

So, I'm doing it. I'm getting it done. I'm taking my shots. I'm taking my pills. Everyone was right when they told me I'd get used to it. I've tried some of their tips. Some of them worked and some didn't. I start by icing it for 20 minutes. This takes away the initial sting of the needle itself. At this point, I barely feel that part. But, ooooh, the medication burns. And it's been suggested by many to do the shot sloooooowly, but I cannot bring myself to do it. Ben does the shots for me and every time he's tried to do it slow, it's hurt more than usual. So, he does it quickly, it burns for a minute or two, I ice it again, and then we're over it. Yes, it sucks. Yes, some days I'm still mad about it. But, honestly, it's not nearly as awful as I anticipated. Somehow, miraculously, I've taken all of these so far:

That's 25, minus the one the nurse gave me on the first day. So, twenty-six in total so far. I have not even begun to climb that hill, but I can see the end now. It doesn't seem impossible anymore. It doesn't seem so terrifying. I don't feel so helpless anymore, or as sad as I was. I am optimistic. And, my initial feeling of "well, I guess we're only having one kid, because I can't do this more than once" has gone. I think I could do this again. :) But, we're only at the beginning.

I can't believe I'm doing this. I am so friggin' proud of myself, and I know that this baby will be so unbelievably loved and cherished for all we've gone through to bring him/her into this world. We just have to hang in there for 30 more weeks.

6 weeks, 3 days

Today, I am 6 weeks, 3 days. We had our first ultrasound yesterday to confirm viability. Baby measures at exactly 6 weeks, and there was a visible heartbeat.

At this point, this means I need to start my blood thinner injections. I have been dreading this. I have been nervous about it, because I absolutely hate needles. I have been known to cancel doctor appointments in the past because they wanted to draw blood or give me a shot. In the last two weeks, though, I have already had three blood-draws, and now a blood thinner injection. They let me lay down for it and showed Ben very carefully how to do it. I was more nervous for that than for the blood draw, and for good reason, it seems, because it hurt like hell. The entire time, it hurt. I've seen and heard many tips to go slowly, because it minimizes the pain and bruising, but in reality, it only hurt for a minute or two and then it was over. BUT, it was painful to the touch for the rest of the day. And, since we are in the process of moving, this was a problem. It was hard for me to carry anything. And I also immediately had to take a nap when I got home, because it exhausted me on top of my regular tiredness and pregnancy tiredness.

Initially, there was only a teeny tiny dot from the injection. As the day went on, it began to look like this. The next morning, the bruise was much darker, but the overall site didn't hurt as much.

But, in any case, I, of course, had questions for the doctor before they even administered the shot. And, as always, he was incredibly helpful in answering them.

1. Does the shot have to be in the stomach?
No, but that's where most people find it easiest to do.

2. What if I forget to take it? Can I take it late?
This one, he didn't want to answer for me last time. This time, he just told me, within a few hours of my usual time is fine.

3. Can I use a gel ice pack?
I only asked this because the box told me to ask if it was okay to use. It is.

4. If I'm given the shot now (8am), can I switch to taking it at night, or do I need to continue taking it in the morning?
I can switch. It's too early to make a difference at this point.

5. Are there any restrictions while I'm on it? Foods/lifting/travel?
Take more calcium, try not to injure yourself because you'll bleed more, and road trips are fine, because I'll have to pee every hour anyway.

6. Are there side effects? When should I call?
Biggest side effect is injection site bruising. If the bruise becomes very large, then call.

He was incredibly thorough and went through everything in the folder they gave me at my last appointment (that I didn't bring along, because I wasn't told I needed it). He filled out prescription forms for my next three ultrasounds. During my last pregnancy, I saw, until my very last appointment, the nurse practitioner. This was not my experience with her. She was wonderful, and she was very nice, and answered my questions, but she didn't go over any of the things in that folder. I had the same questions every time I saw her (why does my back hurt already? and why can't I breathe?) and she told me it was all normal, but looking back, I still don't think it was. So, I'm a little annoyed with myself for not seeing the doctor the first time around. To be honest, I was repulsed by the idea of having a male gynecologist. As it is, he only ended up as my doctor because he was the only one who could perform the procedure I needed after we lost the baby. I'm incredibly grateful it was him, because he's wonderful. In fact, after our ultrasound, he came into the exam room, and said, "Can I give you a hug? Congratulations!" He also gave me a hug at my follow-up appointment after my loss. He's incredibly kind, and compassionate, and knowledgeable, and I'm very lucky to have him.

At this point, there's not much different than a regular pregnancy, except for the injections. I will go back in 4 weeks, when we will hopefully get some more testing. Since I'm high risk, we can find out the baby's gender at 10 weeks with genetic testing, instead of waiting until 20 weeks for the anatomy scan, so I'm excited about that. We'll be monitored closely throughout the pregnancy, especially as we get farther along. And I know more now that I did during the last one, so I'm more aware of my body and what to look for and when to call. I'm feeling confident and so is the doctor. I think we'll actually get to take this baby home. <3

4 weeks

I will not be making this public for a few more weeks, but we are officially expecting again. For some silly reason, I had begun to believe that it wouldn't happen for us, despite the fact that it's only been a few months since we started trying again. I was convinced I was now completely infertile and that I was getting too old. Just this past week, on Saturday, I had convinced myself that it's "for the best" if I'm not pregnant this month, because we're moving. Two weeks from tomorrow, we are moving to a beautiful townhouse in Chester Springs. It's been a long road to get there, and expensive as hell, but I can't wait to be out of this apartment in this cluttered town. There are three bedrooms, two window seats, massive closets, an enormous kitchen, and an awesome basement that we have plans to finish soon. BUT, who knows if we'll be able to afford that now. The pressure is on, for sure. I am terrified. I'm nervous. I'm anxious.

I got a positive test on Sunday, the same day my period was due. I had convinced myself this time that I wasn't pregnant. I didn't want to get my hopes up and start planning, and getting nervous if there was no reason for any of it. But, when my period didn't come by Sunday night, I had to take a test to ease my mind. I had taken one five says prior, which came back negative, but it was clearly too soon. This one was pretty clearly positive:

It was a bit anti-climactic in our house. Unlike the last time, we had been actively trying. We were not surprised, we were not shocked. I showed the test to Ben and asked "how many lines do you see?" He said, "One. Or two...are you pregnant?" And I said, "Depending on that second line, I think so." The second line showed up much clearer within minutes. I asked if he was excited. He said yes. I asked if he was happy. He said yes. But, let's not make this all rainbows and candy canes: We're terrified. 

I called the doctor's office on Monday (yesterday) to make an appointment. No one answered at first, so I left a message, stating that I wanted to make an appointment with Dr. D, that I thought I was pregnant, and that I wanted to come in to confirm and get some guidance from the doctor. I got a return phone call an hour or so later from the nurse. She set up the appointment for the next day, and then asked me how far along I was. My initial thought was: How the hell should I know?? That's why I'm setting up an appointment! But, I answered, "I don't know, a couple weeks." To which she very snarkily answered, "We don't like to set up appointments that early, Kim." I CANNOT STAND WHEN PEOPLE DROP MY NAME LIKE THAT! The only reason to do that is to talk down to someone. Don't talk to me like I'm a child. This isn't my first rodeo. And if you had listened to my message or checked my file AT ALL, you would know why I'm making an appointment "that early." In any case, I somehow calmly explained to her that I'm considered high risk this time and was instructed by the doctor to call as soon as I got a positive test. She relented.

Now, today, Tuesday, I have had my first appointment. Since it is so early, there was no ultrasound, or heartbeat check, or any physical examination. I spoke to the doctor and asked my list of questions:

1. Are there any restrictions: diet, sex, travel, lifting, exercise?

No, but if I want to get out of that work trip I'm supposed to take, he can arrange that. :)

2. What are the chances of repeat pre-eclampsia?

Higher than average, but likely not as early as the previous one. And now that we know what caused it, perhaps not at all.

3. What should I be looking for? 

Rapid weight gain, swelling, get an at-home blood pressure cuff.

4. What can I do to prevent it?

We are doing what we need to be doing with the aspirin and the injections. (The injections will not be started for a few more days, two weeks at the most)

5. What will be done/monitored differently this time?

A LOT. Ultrasounds every 4 weeks for the first 20 weeks or so. After 30 weeks, appointments twice a week. We already know I'll be on the shots, and if I request, I can come in even more to be checked.

6. How likely are we to lose this one too?

Again, higher than average, but now that we know what caused the first one, the chances are lower.

7. Will I get that sick again?

Hopefully not!

8. How often will appointments/ultrasounds be?

Already answered.

9. How likely is early delivery?

That all depends on the growth of the baby. We may get to exactly 37 weeks (full-term) and decide to induce, because the chances of something going wrong after that increase. (37 weeks puts us right around Christmas!)

10. Will I need to be induced/have a C-section?

Yet to be determined. Again, all depends on the baby's growth and how healthy I am. 

I am officially 4 weeks today. Due date is January 12, 2020. I asked in the beginning what the chances of a Christmas baby are and he responded, "I'll be very happy if we get you that far." So, highly likely...?

In any case, the doctor seems really positive. He is confident that we are doing everything right and that we are on the right track for a healthy pregnancy and full-term baby. This eases my mind a little, but does not make me less nervous about the process. Also, how the hell are we going to afford a new house and a new baby? 

Life happens quickly, and I am incredibly unprepared. But, how lucky I am. 

Grief

Grief is a confusing and frustrating thing. Just when you think you are starting to heal, it feels almost as if you're back at the beginning. And although, while knowing "there's no time limit on grief," it still feels like you should be moving on, like you should be "getting over it," like you should feel better than you do.

Today has been hard, for no discernible reason. Maybe it's because it's the 19th. I have a feeling that day will forever be hard. My miscarriage was on the 19th of October. My due date was on the 19th of February. It's a dreaded day. It's a hard day. It was supposed to be a happy day.

I remember feeling, within weeks after leaving the hospital, that I got over things too fast. I felt like a monster, like this baby didn't mean enough to me. I didn't feel sad enough, like there was something wrong with me. There were days when I was so upset that I hadn't thought about the baby for the entire day. I didn't want to forget about her. I didn't want to forget that she existed. I feel like there were far more happier days then than there are now.

It's been five months since the miscarriage. In my mind, I feel like I should be over it by now. I shouldn't be as sad as I am, but today...today feels endless, bottomless, hopeless. There is an unbearable heaviness on my heart. It feels truly like I'm having a continuous panic attack for hours on end, like it's hard to breathe. It hurts to pick my head up, it's a struggle to move my arms, to walk across the room, to keep my eyes open, to write this...

I remember when my stepdad died, saying that there was now such a definitive timeline of things: those that happened "before" and those that happened "after." And that's how it feels now, too. Before this happened, I was happier, optimistic. I rushed to hold any baby, to spend time with any child, to ask parents to see pictures, to hear stories, to surround myself with all things baby. And now, after, god, those conversations hurt. Those pictures crush my spirit, make things feel impossible. Those should be my photos. I should be the one telling stories now.

I got locked in a conversation with two coworkers the other day about babies. The one woman was telling a story about changing her daughter's diaper when she was about three months old - it was a blow-out, a disgusting story. And, it made me so incredibly sad. To think that some day I'd be sad about not being able to clean baby poop off a wall. Grief is weird.

Today is a day that feels impossible. I still struggle with not wanting to forget that that baby existed. I told Ben the other day that I don't want to be sad anymore, but I also don't want to forget our girl. And, it still doesn't feel like those two things can exist at the same time. How can I ever be happy again while still remembering the baby I lost? How can I remember what should have been without feeling an unbelievable emptiness? Some days I think, "If I can just get pregnant again, then I'll feel better," but am I just trying to replace her? No matter how many future babies there are or aren't, that one still existed. She was still real. And we still never got to hold her. She's still gone. And any other ones that are conceived will be different babies. It's not the same.

I have always prided myself in bouncing back from things quickly. I've been through my fair share of difficulties. Things always sort of happen at once for me. The ceiling caves in and the bottom falls out all at once. And this obviously falls solidly into that category. And, at first, I did bounce back fast. The doctors were shocked with how quickly I was better, how soon I wanted to go home, how great I looked a week later. But, emotionally, it feels endless. It's only been and it's already been five months at the same time. There are days when I'm able to tell myself "use this sadness to get you through the next pregnancy. Remember this sadness and do what you have to do to see the next one through." Because, being told I have to give myself daily injections for nearly a year feels impossible to me. They may as well have told me I can't have kids. Days like today, I can't do it. And I'm so scared that there will be too many of these days during an actual pregnancy. What happens on those days when I can't do it? What happens on the days when I'm just too emotionally drained to put myself through it? Again, it feels impossible.

Today, the weight of the world is on my chest. Today, there's a boulder on my heart and an emptiness in my stomach. Today, I resent your baby pictures, and your pregnancy photos, and your happiness. Today, I can't do it. But, grief is weird, and it's unpredictable, and it's confusing. So, tomorrow may be better. Ben and I have a short road trip planned for the weekend coming up, and it will be the first time we've gotten away from everything since it all happened. It's desperately needed. To reconnect with each other, away from the stress, away from the sadness, away from the memories. It's the first thing I've had to look forward to in five months, and I am hoping beyond reason that it will re-energize me and make me feel alive again. In the meantime, I grieve - still - and I try to breathe.

A Letter to My Daughter

My Dear Girl,
I hate today. I hate this month. I hate what's coming.

Two weeks from today is February 19th. Two weeks from today is exactly four months since we lost you. Two weeks from today is your due date. The day we were supposed to meet you. The day we would finally get to hold you in our arms, to see your face, to kiss your head. The day all of our dreams were supposed to come true.

We spent five agonizing, exciting, terrified, miserable, suspenseful months awaiting this day. We spent five months wondering what you'd look like, who you'd favor. Whose laugh would you have? Whose eyes would you get? Would you have Daddy's curls? Would you have Mommy's nose? Would you be the perfect mix of both of us? Who would you become? We spent five months dreaming and planning, imagining and preparing. We spent five months looking forward to your arrival. We counted the weeks, the days, the months. Time was moving unbelievably fast but agonizingly slow at the same time. We were not prepared, but we'd never been more ready.

And then...

We spent the last four painful, heartbreaking months dreading this day. No more planning, no more dreaming, no more imagining or preparing. We never got to know what you looked like, who you favored, whose eyes or nose you had. We never got to hold you, to see your face, to kiss you. But, you were real, sweet girl. You existed. To the rest of the world, you were only ever an idea, a thought, something that would be here sometime but in the grand scheme of things, not really change much. But for me, your mama, you were everything. I felt you move. I felt you hiccup. I felt your feet kicking, your fists punching. You liked spaghetti and bread and every kind of carb there is. You made my back hurt, my clothes tight, my bladder full. You were real. And to us, you were a person.

I hate that your daddy never got to feel what I felt. I hate that he never got to feel those little tiny flutters and those soft little kicks. He never got to feel life growing inside him, and he never got to feel it from the outside, either. You're like a little secret that only I understood. A secret that only you and I shared. We knew each other. We nourished each other. We lived for each other. And I'm so sorry, Baby Girl. I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you. I'm sorry that I didn't know. I'm sorry that you had to die for me to know anything was wrong. You were healthy, but I was not. And even if you weren't, you would have been perfect.

I go through this month with the heaviest heart I've ever had. I spend each day trying not to cry at your memory. How can you miss someone you never technically met? I wonder constantly if I will ever emotionally be able to get pregnant again. Will I ever not be scared? Will I ever not be sad? How on Earth will I ever be able to go through the daily injections I will need to carry any sibling of yours to full term? How do I endure everything I need to to bring a healthy baby into this world?

I keep asking myself and other people, "how do you psych yourself up for these shots every day?" and they all tell me that they just remind themselves that it's for their baby. And until today, or yesterday, or sometime very recently, I couldn't quite get myself there. But, at some point, I was hit with the realization that if they had told me that's what I would have had to do to save you, I would have done it. No questions asked. I would have done anything. I would have endured anything. I would have suffered anything they threw at me if I could have just brought you safely into this world. But, I didn't get that option. So, Baby Girl, for you, I can endure this. I can do this. I can do what I need to do to bring a little brother or sister into this world for you. And I know that my love for you and the memory of you will help me on the journey.

I love you, sweet angel. Rest easy.

Love,
Mama

Questions

Today was my first appointment post-diagnosis. When I met with Dr. M. (the doctor of maternal fetal medicine) three weeks ago, I was told that in order to truly get a diagnosis, I needed to test positive twice at least twelve weeks apart. So, today was meant to be that second test.

I worked from home today, since the appointment was in the middle of the day and there was a winter weather advisory (that ended up being nothing, as always). I called in to my first meeting at 9:00, told my boss what he needed to know from me for the 11:00 meeting I was going to miss, checked some emails, and then left for the appointment at 11:30. We waited roughly five minutes before a nurse came to get us. She told us in the hallway that Dr. D. (the OB/GYN) had just looked over my chart and realized that the test we needed could only be done in the lab. *sigh* I had waited for this appointment for weeks, counted down the days, hoping that this would be the day they would give us the all clear to try again. Thankfully, the doctor walked by during this conversation with the nurse and I said, "That's fine, but I still have questions for you." He said, "Okay, then! Let's go to my office."

We sat down at his desk, and I opened my notebook that I'd been writing questions in for the last couple weeks. Fourteen in total:

1. Is it dangerous to try again?
2. Have you worked with patients with this condition before?
3. Are both Aspirin and the blood thinner injections necessary?
4. What is the success rate? What are the chances of losing another one?
5. What are the potential risks and complications during pregnancy?
6. Are there additional risks during delivery?
7. Will I need a hematologist on top of everything else?
8. Should I start the Aspirin now?
9. What happens if I miss a shot?
10. Are the shots covered by insurance?
11. How frequent will my check-ups/ultrasounds be with future pregnancies?
12. Did my age have any effect on this?
13. Will I need a C-section/induction?
14. Should I continue the blood pressure medication?

And he answered them all. Now that we know what caused the loss, no it is not dangerous to get pregnant again. He said this confidently, without hesitation. Put us at ease immediately. While he was answering that question, he answered the second one. Yes, he's worked with people with this condition. Many times. And, the course of action that they are choosing for me is the Aspirin combined with the blood thinners. Seems to be a common treatment for this.

The success rate is high, but my chances of losing another one are still dramatically higher than the average person. There are no added risks with the blood thinners, but I will be very closely monitored for pre-eclampsia and delayed fetal growth, because those were the major issues during the last one. That risk will not change. And it sounds like there are not too many risks during delivery either. Four weeks before my due date, they will change me to a different blood thinner that will be out of my system sooner so that if I need to be induced or get a C-section bleeding won't be an issue. He said he has never had a problem with any of his patients before. Another reassuring statement.

I do not need a hematologist, but he said it couldn't hurt if it puts my mind at ease. And I can start the Aspirin now if I want to, but it's not necessary. It won't hurt anything if I do. He wouldn't answer the question about missing the shot. That conversation went something like this:
K-"What happens if I miss a shot?"
Dr.-"Don't."
K-"Well, I mean people miss medications."
Dr.-"People forget to take pills. No one forgets to take an injection. Even diabetics remember."
K-"Okay, but what if I do?"
Dr.-"Why would you?"
K-"Because I don't like needles."
Dr.-"Then I can't work with you!!"
This was said tongue-in-cheek with his usual sense of humor, and although he didn't directly answer the question, the message was clear: don't miss your injection. And yes, they should be covered by insurance. If they're not, we will fight "tooth and nail" to get it covered.

I'm still a bit confused about the frequency of check-ups, but it sounds like my OB/GYN check-ups will proceed as normal until 32 weeks, but that ultrasound appointments will be more frequent. And then, I will be seen probably twice a week. I feel bad for my boss already for all the time I will need off, but such is life.

He didn't seem to quite understand what I meant about my age effecting things and I guess I didn't either, but it doesn't matter anyway. It was a hypothetical question and it could only have made us upset if the answer was "yes," so I let that one go. I didn't ask about the C-section/induction directly because it was addressed. It seems I won't need either of those things. They hope for the best, as always. And, for the last question, I'm to meet with my GP again (*sigh*) and have them switch my medications. I'm so tired of doctors.


Thankfully, the lab for the blood testing is not one that requires an appointment, and there was one a mile from where we  were. So, we stopped there afterwards to get the blood drawn. I came prepared this time, because the first time I had a major blood draw, I didn't know how much they'd be taking. I almost passed out, turned ghost-white according to the nurse, and needed some sugar stat! This time, I came equipped with a bottle of water and a Reese's peanut butter egg (yay for early Easter candy!). I sipped my water while she took the blood and told me all about her spoiled cat. I made sure to let her know that I was freaked out and asked her to talk to me about cats. She was very nice, very cool about it, and kept asking me if I was okay. I did get clammy, I did get hot, I did get worried, but it was all okay. I sat in the waiting room for a few minutes before leaving getting my bearings back and chomping on my Reese's egg. Going out into the below-freezing weather helped lose the sweats.

Now we wait some more. We wait for the results and for that call from Dr. D. letting us know what they say. But, we are all expecting them to be positive. But, before we left his office, he asked, "so, when are we trying again?!" I answered, "whenever you tell us we're allowed." He said, we got the test, I started my cycle again, and we have a plan. And even though we haven't gotten the official confirmation yet, I told him I'd like to proceed as if it's positive. So, we are good to go. All clear. All systems go. And I'm terrified.

Answers

It's been a rough couple of days in our house. Since the loss of our baby in October, we've been playing a lot of the waiting game and asking a lot of questions, trying to figure out what happened. It was looking more and more like a "fluke" and simply a bad placenta, but an appointment this past Tuesday turned up some results.

It turns out, while I was in the hospital, they ran a slew of blood tests on me, checking for many different things. One of these tests was for a condition called antiphospholipid antibody syndrome. It's an autoimmune disease, meaning that my white blood cells, instead of attacking dangerous bacteria, attack my own body. So, the assumption is that they attacked the placenta. This disease is known to cause blood clots and is found often in women who experience multiple miscarriages or late-term miscarriages. Somehow, I've lived 33.5 years without ever knowing I have this, or showing a single symptom until pregnancy.

What this means is that, without treatment, it will be very difficult, if not impossible, for me to carry a baby to full-term. What the treatments consist of would be low-dose aspirin and blood thinner injections from day one of any pregnancies until delivery, and probably a few weeks postpartum. You are talking to a person who has cancelled doctor's appointments because they wanted to draw blood or give me a shot, so this is not great news. I was initially optimistic, thinking that's a small price to pay to have the family I've always dreamed of. And then, I started researching and joining Facebook groups, and Googling, etc. And I'm not feeling terribly awesome about it. There is a chance this won't happen for me. There is a chance I will never have this baby that I have spent my entire life planning for. Every decision I've ever made in my life was to get me to a place where I would fell comfortable bringing a child into the world. And to find out that might not actually happen is beyond devastating. And while this condition isn't a death sentence and certainly doesn't mean a family is impossible, it's not going to be an easy road. I will likely lose more babies. It will be physically and emotionally painful. Due to the nature of the blood thinners, an epidural during delivery may not be possible, as it causes blood clots in the spine and may cause permanent paralysis. One thing is certain: carrying and delivering a child would be dangerous for me. On top of this, I have been told that I can no longer take hormonal contraception due to the risk of blood clots. So, not only is getting pregnant dangerous, but so is preventing it.

I'm scared. I'm incredibly sad. I'm angrier than I've ever been. I'm depressed. But, underneath all of that, I'm still the fighter I've always been. I'm still willing to look for answers. I'm still willing to learn as much about this as I can. I'm still willing to do what I have to do to have my family. And if carrying my own is not in the cards, other options are not off the table. I'm exhausted from being strong all the time. I'm just tired. I want someone else to do it for me, to take the burdens, to take the pain, to take the weight. But, no one else can. I know this journey will be the most difficult thing I've ever had to do, but when I eventually look into the eyes of my child and hold them in my arms for the first time, it will be worth every painful injection, ever single tear that was cried, every broken heart, and every difficult day that was endured to get there. For now, I'm not done being angry. For now, I'm not done feeling sorry for myself and hating those who so easily had a nice, healthy baby without even trying. I'm not done hating people who did nothing to deserve the healthy family they have. But, eventually, something good will come out of this. Until then, I continue gathering information and preparing my body for the next try. And I build a kick-ass medical team to help me someday realize my dream of being a mama.

For those of you who effortlessly built your family, don't take a second for granted. Look at your child and know how lucky they are to exist, how lucky you were to be able to carry them, to hold them, to love them, to bring them into this world. I never, in a million years, imagined this would be my journey, but here I am.