My Life
So messy and untidy
Not neatly divided,
as my Mothers' appeared to be
Separate spheres?
Work [and] Family
Family, then Work
Totalizing, enveloping each of them
Reconcile - reconciling?
The overlap,
no separation
I'd lie if I called it integration
Domestic Life. Academic Life
My Life
My Life
This poem I post in honour of Family Day, an Alberta holiday to celebrate families. Today we are going to see a play called Apples and Oranges... more to come on this later!
Monday, February 16, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
A Metaphor For More?
"I have bouggers!"
"Mom, I need a Kleenex."
"There's mucous!"
Any way B2 says it, this means that every few minutes he needs me to wipe his cold stuck little nose. Is this simply wiping his nose or it this constant need for Mom indicative of something greater, suggestive of something more?
Each moment he is taking me away from reading a new book called Mama PhD. It occurs to me my maternal self and my academic self may not be that separate after all. I go upstairs, I wipe his nose, then I return to the narrative of another mama academic.
Perhaps my academic self is always being pulled in the direction of my maternal self. But, what do I make of the opposite process, which I feel sometimes, when my maternal self is pulled in the direction of my academic self?
Or... maybe it is just wiping a kid's nose!
... And, again I hear, "Mom, I need a KLEEEEEEEEEEEeeneX!
"Mom, I need a Kleenex."
"There's mucous!"
Any way B2 says it, this means that every few minutes he needs me to wipe his cold stuck little nose. Is this simply wiping his nose or it this constant need for Mom indicative of something greater, suggestive of something more?
Each moment he is taking me away from reading a new book called Mama PhD. It occurs to me my maternal self and my academic self may not be that separate after all. I go upstairs, I wipe his nose, then I return to the narrative of another mama academic.
Perhaps my academic self is always being pulled in the direction of my maternal self. But, what do I make of the opposite process, which I feel sometimes, when my maternal self is pulled in the direction of my academic self?
Or... maybe it is just wiping a kid's nose!
... And, again I hear, "Mom, I need a KLEEEEEEEEEEEeeneX!
Monday, February 9, 2009
Adversity and/or Opportunity
I received a gift on my recent birthday from a couple of friends, Robin Sharma's Daily Inspiration (from the Monk Who Sold His Ferrari). The excerpt for my birthday is as follows:
Makes me think...
Is it simply that I choose how these natal experiences will affect me, impact me, define me? Is it really a case that my positive paradigm can someone transform this adverse experience that has happened to me into an opportunity to become something more, someone greater than I was before?
A friend asked me recently, "How are you feeling now?" A seemingly simple question to which I really had no reply. She queried further, "Are you stunned?" "Yes, I am stunned." What did I mean by this? I think that I am both shocked and amazed - shocked that this has happened (three times, no charm) and amazed at how incredibly normal everything else seems. I am amazed that I haven't fallen apart. My friend continued, "You know, had you not tried for a third you would not have gone through any of this." This observation is loaded with meaning. It suggests to me that there is much in this to learn from, to grow from, to understand, to appreciate? To return to the Sharma quotation, "where others see adversity, they see opportunity," and ponder this for a moment... (and I welcome others interpretations)
My students can tell you that I resist and challenge dichotomous thinking (it is up or down, right or wrong, truth or falsehood etc.). I don't think in this case it is a matter of either adversity or opportunity. If I think this is an opportunity I deny the reality of the pain, frustration, and sadness associated with
losing another baby. Yet, if I think of this as an adverse event I then close off any possibilities to learn, grow, or use this experience in my life to take ownership and control over the situation. Rather, I am trying to view this whole thing as neither bad nor good, but as BOTH adversity and opportunity. In other words, it is not a question of closure or opening, but rather a closure IS an opening.
Hey, I wouldn't have enjoyed that glass of red wine last night had I been expecting! I wouldn't have enjoyed running (and stopping to walk!) this morning had I been expecting! I wouldn't be wearing such tight jeans (hhm... )
In all seriousness, I wouldn't have been able to truly appreciate why I want to have another turn at pregnancy and motherhood (that is a post for another time!).
The most joyful, dynamic and contented people in this world are no different from you or me in terms of their makeup. We are all flesh and bones. We all come from the same universal source. However, the ones who do more than just exist, the ones who fan the flames of their human potential and truly savour the magical dance of life, do different things than those whose lives are ordinary. Foremost among the things that they do is adopt a positive paradigm about their world and all that is in it. Where others see adversity, they see opportunity (2007, January 22 entry, no page).
Makes me think...
Is it simply that I choose how these natal experiences will affect me, impact me, define me? Is it really a case that my positive paradigm can someone transform this adverse experience that has happened to me into an opportunity to become something more, someone greater than I was before?
A friend asked me recently, "How are you feeling now?" A seemingly simple question to which I really had no reply. She queried further, "Are you stunned?" "Yes, I am stunned." What did I mean by this? I think that I am both shocked and amazed - shocked that this has happened (three times, no charm) and amazed at how incredibly normal everything else seems. I am amazed that I haven't fallen apart. My friend continued, "You know, had you not tried for a third you would not have gone through any of this." This observation is loaded with meaning. It suggests to me that there is much in this to learn from, to grow from, to understand, to appreciate? To return to the Sharma quotation, "where others see adversity, they see opportunity," and ponder this for a moment... (and I welcome others interpretations)
My students can tell you that I resist and challenge dichotomous thinking (it is up or down, right or wrong, truth or falsehood etc.). I don't think in this case it is a matter of either adversity or opportunity. If I think this is an opportunity I deny the reality of the pain, frustration, and sadness associated with
losing another baby. Yet, if I think of this as an adverse event
Hey, I wouldn't have enjoyed that glass of red wine last night had I been expecting! I wouldn't have enjoyed running (and stopping to walk!) this morning had I been expecting! I wouldn't be wearing such tight jeans (hhm... )
In all seriousness, I wouldn't have been able to truly appreciate why I want to have another turn at pregnancy and motherhood (that is a post for another time!).
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Update
1. D.O.A.D (dad of all dads). DOAD has been at work a lot lately. I don't blame him, resent it, or say this to complain. I just find myself answering the question, "Where's Daddy?" a lot more with "He's at work." I notice, though, that the more he is away the more he offers to us when he is home. I am very fortunate to have this amazing man to call my husband.
2. B1 and B2. Let's start with the ugly. Well, that was more for emphasis, there really is no ugly, but there is a lot of confusion! B1 has been frustrating us considerably when it comes to playing hockey. Perhaps I should re-phrase that with at hockey because one of our concerns is that he is out for a figure skate whist his teammates attempt to put a black puck into a red net. It seems like so much comes so easy to him that putting in the effort to learn the new skills involved in participating in hockey doesn't seem necessary to him. What's a (hockey) mom to do? Practice again today... we'll see what happens. B2 has been frustrating us considerably with his insistence on coming into our bed (see post My 2.5 Year Old Won't Stay in Bed). Isn't he 3 now??? How come I have let this continue for so long? Is there something in this I enjoy?
Otherwise, these two gems delight my world and I am grateful each day for getting to be their "Mom," (B1) and "Mama" (B2).
3. Dog. R is back to her bone head self again! And... only $150.00 later! I took her yesterday to our local off leash area and she went crazy running around in the heaps and piles of SNOW. Of course the other dog owners gushed over this gorgeous shrimp of a 4.5 year old golden retriever. Ah... dogs!
4. Work. Professionally, some new and exciting things are coming my way, which I am keen to write about (later). I guess this blog has been more about my mom life lately! More to come soon...
5. Body. Next question.
6. Other. Spent this morning supervising B1 write out Valentines for his Kindergarten class. Very sweet, actually. I asked him if he wanted to put two heart stickers on a couple special (girl) friends (one neighbour and one team mate) and he replied:, "Yes! Ah, no, that would not be fair."
2. B1 and B2. Let's start with the ugly. Well, that was more for emphasis, there really is no ugly, but there is a lot of confusion! B1 has been frustrating us considerably when it comes to playing hockey. Perhaps I should re-phrase that with at hockey because one of our concerns is that he is out for a figure skate whist his teammates attempt to put a black puck into a red net. It seems like so much comes so easy to him that putting in the effort to learn the new skills involved in participating in hockey doesn't seem necessary to him. What's a (hockey) mom to do? Practice again today... we'll see what happens. B2 has been frustrating us considerably with his insistence on coming into our bed (see post My 2.5 Year Old Won't Stay in Bed). Isn't he 3 now??? How come I have let this continue for so long? Is there something in this I enjoy?
Otherwise, these two gems delight my world and I am grateful each day for getting to be their "Mom," (B1) and "Mama" (B2).
3. Dog. R is back to her bone head self again! And... only $150.00 later! I took her yesterday to our local off leash area and she went crazy running around in the heaps and piles of SNOW. Of course the other dog owners gushed over this gorgeous shrimp of a 4.5 year old golden retriever. Ah... dogs!
4. Work. Professionally, some new and exciting things are coming my way, which I am keen to write about (later). I guess this blog has been more about my mom life lately! More to come soon...
5. Body. Next question.
6. Other. Spent this morning supervising B1 write out Valentines for his Kindergarten class. Very sweet, actually. I asked him if he wanted to put two heart stickers on a couple special (girl) friends (one neighbour and one team mate) and he replied:, "Yes! Ah, no, that would not be fair."
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Competing with "Marley" for the World's Worst Dog Title
My most recent doctor's appointment wasn't for me... it was for my 4.5 year old golden retriever. As if life hadn't thrown me enough to handle lately I spent yesterday stressed out about our canine family member. "I hope R won't die," B1 says casually while taking his bath!
In the summer of 2007 one July day our little "food" hound got into the contents of our bathroom garbage. Ingesting paper products and whatever else we had tossed in there (obviously) didn't agree with her system! 4 hours in surgery, two night stay at the animal hospital, meds, recovery, etc. and all of a sudden we weren't going to Hawaii. Nope, we were left with a $7, 000.00 bill for a dog we had paid $750.00 for. She was so young and it all happened so fast, we hadn't even discussed this sort of thing yet: What else could we do but say, "go ahead with whatever she needs."
You can imagine the nightmarish visions I had when my dog starts vomiting and stops pooping. I cannot go down this road again!
I called the vet and initially we were told to leave her there and they would check her out and run some tests. The bill? $700.00. On second thought, "can I bring her back later today?"
Back we came and the vet was able to dislodge something from her rectum and voila - the culprit. Or, as the vet cautioned, part of it. A couple hundred dollars and a healthy dog at the end - now that I can handle.
We left with instructions to feed her every hour, but only a tablespoon of special fiber enhanced formula dog food. So, last night - every hour on the hour - there I was giving our dog her ration. It didn't take long to notice that she was very, very interested in food again.
This morning I was greeted with our hype case of a pet. I took her outside. Pee? Check. Anything else? Would she? Is everything cleared? Is it all over? I watch her prance back and forth, forth and back [taking her usual sweet time to find the perfect spot upon which to release the contents of her bowels]... and
Defecation! Yes, I recall only being so pleased to see poop as when B1 had jaundice and we were monitoring his every stomach gurgle.
Oh, what we do for those we love!
In the summer of 2007 one July day our little "food" hound got into the contents of our bathroom garbage. Ingesting paper products and whatever else we had tossed in there (obviously) didn't agree with her system! 4 hours in surgery, two night stay at the animal hospital, meds, recovery, etc. and all of a sudden we weren't going to Hawaii. Nope, we were left with a $7, 000.00 bill for a dog we had paid $750.00 for. She was so young and it all happened so fast, we hadn't even discussed this sort of thing yet: What else could we do but say, "go ahead with whatever she needs."
You can imagine the nightmarish visions I had when my dog starts vomiting and stops pooping. I cannot go down this road again!
I called the vet and initially we were told to leave her there and they would check her out and run some tests. The bill? $700.00. On second thought, "can I bring her back later today?"
Back we came and the vet was able to dislodge something from her rectum and voila - the culprit. Or, as the vet cautioned, part of it. A couple hundred dollars and a healthy dog at the end - now that I can handle.
We left with instructions to feed her every hour, but only a tablespoon of special fiber enhanced formula dog food. So, last night - every hour on the hour - there I was giving our dog her ration. It didn't take long to notice that she was very, very interested in food again.
This morning I was greeted with our hype case of a pet. I took her outside. Pee? Check. Anything else? Would she? Is everything cleared? Is it all over? I watch her prance back and forth, forth and back [taking her usual sweet time to find the perfect spot upon which to release the contents of her bowels]... and
Defecation! Yes, I recall only being so pleased to see poop as when B1 had jaundice and we were monitoring his every stomach gurgle.
Oh, what we do for those we love!
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Double Life? (or multiplicitous me)
Can I really be this woman who continues to go to work, who volunteers in her son's classroom, who is attempting a new workout routine, who laughs at dinner with friends, who reads to her children, who caresses her husband, who walks her dog, ...etc who - by all appearances can balance work and family - while at the same time be a woman who is suffering the unspeakable grief of early pregnancy loss? Am I she and her? Where is the dividing line between the continued joys and celebration of my motherhood and my family AND the termination of plans, hopes, expectations and new beginnings for a new baby? Am I leading a double life - one characterized by pain and anger, the other full of life, love, and "new" (albeit different than what was planned) beginnings? Or, is it alright to see BOTH adversity and opportunity in my recent maternal experiences and wider life?
Thursday, January 29, 2009
What to expect when you're no longer expecting...
Don't anyone take this 'stolen' title, as I think I deserve to own this clever take on the "What to Expect When You're Expecting" series! Yes, I think I have some right to the phrase. Why???
Let me back up the proverbial "truck" (which is both what my body feels like and what I feel like I've been hit by in the last year). You may recall from an earlier post almost a year ago (The Day That Changed Everything) that I suffered my first miscarriage in February 2008. This rocked my world. I couldn't believe that something like that would happen to me - me the one with two beautiful, healthy boys. It did. And, yes - I got over it; but not over it like you get over a cold. I can't say that each time I have been struck by "Acute viral nasopharyngitis" or "acute coryza" it has irrevocably changed me. The miscarriage, which for me was the loss of my baby Devyn, did alter who and what I was (not completely). It altered how I saw the world and myself in it, and not in a purely negative way. Finally getting past the "why me" pity party I realized that this experience, which at first crushed me, did not destroy my spirit. Rather, it made it and me stronger. It turned the core and/or character I thought I was/had into elastic. I was stretched in all directions, including toward my own children, my husband, my friends, my work and away from each at times. It was as if someone or something from outside me was manipulating me. My life and my soul (if you will) seemed no longer mine to possess or control. But, as I said, I got over it.
After much soul searching, lots of tears and a few screams DOAD and I were as prepared as we could be to "try again." Trying again after miscarriage is a scary undertaking. I wondered could it happen again? I waited the prescribed two healthy menstrual cycles and we were ready to try for the next pregnancy. It came as quite a surprise last June when we realized we were, in fact, pregnant again. I remember feeling not only excited about it, but also relieved that we wouldn't have to go through the up/down ride of trying to get pregnant (e.g. period, wait 10-14 days, start testing with ovulation sticks etc..... am I? perhaps - no coffee, no wine, no running, no.....). It seemed almost too good to be true. And, it was. July 6th (the day after B1's 5th birthday) I started bleeding, heavy, and I knew what was happening. Somehow (although I remember being sad and upset) it didn't seem to be as bad or as hard to deal with as the first time. It was so early (5 weeks) and we had only known for a week. It was easier to tell myself that I wasn't ready and I hadn't given my body enough time to heal and get healthy from the first miscarriage yet. Off we went the next day to visit family and I tried to just carry on like everything was fine.
Was it? Perhaps. I started getting serious about running again. I went to the gym before work in the mornings and watched more carefully what I put into my body. By the Fall I felt wonderful. I had reached the weight I wanted (I think 1 or 2 pounds less than when I was pregnant with B2 - at time time I felt this mattered!!). I was ready. We were ready.
Ready for what is now the question. After a couple months of trying to conceive my LMP (for those unfamiliar with this speak that's last menstrual period) was October 31st 2008. Forgive my perhaps morbid humour but what first appeared as a treat turned out to be a trick!
Early December I did a pregnancy test and YES, it confirmed it: we were expecting! As I had two miscarriages I had been advised to contact my OBGYN as soon as we were pregnant. I was hyper vigilant now. No running, no caffeine, no alcohol. This time, though, I added more than 'Materna' (pre-natal vitamins) to my daily regiment. My doctor indicated that for some women early pregnancy loss is related to luteal phase defect (low progesterone). I may want to opt for progesterone suppositories. So, there began my mornings with a waxy pill specially made for me that I would pop and days ended the same way. Add a little lose dose aspirin for good measure and the control I had over this pregnancy was complete. Well... I had positive thoughts too?!!? As well, the nurse scheduled me for an early ultrasound, "just to make sure everything was good."
December 29th came, the ultrasound appointment. I should have been at almost 9 weeks, but when the technician did the ultrasound he found a healthy gestational sac measuring at 7 weeks, 5 days and only a small fetal pole. I was sent to the restroom to empty my full bladder so they could do an internal ultrasound to get a better picture. There I looked at myself in the mirror, "This is all going to be alright," I actually said aloud. I felt nothing was wrong (and I was the one who was wrong). I returned for the next step. After the tech had completed the search for my baby's heartbeat and came back empty handed, he left to get the doctor.
This time around the doctor wasn't cold, she merely indicated that "we would have expected and liked to see more at this point. We couldn't get a heartbeat and it would have been there at 6 weeks. Could your dates be off?" I was puzzled and didn't quite know what to make of this. I told her I had a long cycle and hadn't had regular periods. She said to come back in a couple of weeks. I needed something more, so I said, "What are you saying, it is 50/50?" "Yes," she replied.
Somehow I was able to get through the 18 days between this and the next ultrasound. Finally, it was January 15th 2009. Throughout this time I had remained calm, hopeful and otherwise pregnant. My nausea, breast fullness, tummy expansion and hormonal temperament had not subsided. I had no signs the pregnancy was failing. I woke feeling excited that I would hear my baby's heartbeat and know that everything was alright. The experience was not quite was I anticipated.
The technician moved the wand back and forth and I attempted to gain the best glimpse of the screen I could. At that moment, I knew. The fetus was no longer living. This pregnancy was over; only my body wasn't acting like it. The report would indicate no evidence of the fetus, likely already absorbed. The gestational sac this time measured at 8 weeks, 5 days. I don't know what this means. Perhaps things progressed and my baby's heart did beat, or maybe it was already dying at the first ultrasound and the products of conception [which the contents of my uterus would later be referred to as] had simply continued the process of pregnancy without the little being they were supposed to support. All I knew was that this third miscarriage gained me entrance into a new category, "recurrent miscarriage." I had had three miscarriages in a row.... after two healthy pregnancies and babies. But.. I am getting ahead of myself.
I left the clinic. I didn't yet cry. I called my husband and told him our terrible news. He had been so supportive over the past weeks. He kept me upbeat and didn't allow me to lose faith. [Thank-you.] In explaining what happened and how I was making sense of the non-sensical I lost it. I wept in my car alone into my cell phone. Shortly after that, sipping on my REcaffeinated coffee, I drove back to work. I carried on, proceeded as usual. The next day, I started to bleed. I still find this fascinating how the mind and body are both interconnected and at odds. Once my brain knew it was over, I must have let go. Yet, why/how could my mind (all those positive thoughts) keep my body from miscarrying earlier?! These answers I will never have. I do expect other answers, though.
Throughout the weekend the bleeding continued, although not extremely heavily. After I had lost what I thought was most of 'it,' the bleeding started to tapper off. I figured this was a good sign. The early pregnancy loss clinic at the hospital had contacted my Friday (the day after the ultrasound) and urged me to come in 9:00 am Monday morning. In addition to support, they wanted to assess me, get some blood tests done and since I am Rh negative I would need a shot of WinRow/Rhogam.
I left alone for the hospital with DOAD at home with my boys. I got there, pad in place, and spoke to the nurse. I had gone directly to the clinic, so wasn't ever admitted to the hospital. We discussed my options: 1. Let my body finish the miscarriage on its own; 2. Take a drug to make my uterus contract and complete the miscarriage with chemical assistance; 3. Have another ultrasound, get a doctor's opinion on how to proceed; 4. Schedule a D and C. I was planning a trip in two days, so I was concerned about the time frame, however, I had already started bleeding (unlike last February), so I felt comfortable telling the nurse, "I'm just going to let my body do what it's going to do." I didn't know what accurate those words were! Off I went to the lab and here is where things went sideways. I had to wait about 30 minutes for my blood work. During this time I had to dash not once but 6 times to the restroom in order to release the bleeding into the toilet! At this point I became a little concerned.
After they took my blood I returned to the clinic and sat down with the nurse. At first she explained that the shot wouldn't be ready for 1-2 hours and I could go home. Then, she looked at me and I could tell I didn't look good. "Perhaps, we should have you lay down in a room." I needed to go to the toilet (same story as above). This to the room, back to the toilet continued I don't know how many times. The nurse monitored the blood loss. She also checked the contents and told me, "This is not tissue, it is all blood clots." That is not good!
From here on it's a little hazy. From what I recall I was over the toilet hemorrhaging and the nurse was rubbing my back. Next thing more blood, cold sweat/hot needles, and I am out. I come to and feel absolutely like death. A total loss of control (much more so than in birthing my two children), numb and sensation all at the same time. Again, I faint. Now there are several bodies surrounding me and my own is betraying me. First the baby, now all my blood! I was later told that in the span of an hour I lost almost a liter of blood. The nurses and doctors must have put me in a stretcher because next I recall trying to pull my phone from my purse and hearing a voice (my own) say, "I have to call my husband." From not a patient, to outpatient, to emergency, to operating room to recovery, to day surgery - I would certainly have a tour of the hospital that day (although I wasn't conscious for most of it!) I was classified as high risk. As blood poured out of me they rushed me to Emergency. Another woman had been scheduled to have a D and C. She was stable, waiting. I was not. The operating room, the doctor and the team was all ready and prepared, I was to 'bump' her and it would be my body the next procedure would be preformed on that morning.
Everything went well. I escaped having a transfusion. I left a few hours later with a recovering uterus, a bruised hand (from the IV) and a bruised heart. WHAT JUST HAPPENED?
What the "What to expect when you're expecting" books FAIL TO EXPLAIN is what to expect when we are no longer expecting. They fail to equip women with the tools, skills and resolve to withstand the pain and confusion associated with early pregnancy loss. The wider culture also basically ignores miscarriage. This silence hurts not only women, but the men in their lives who suffer silently because they know they are probably their partner's only support system. [Back to the trick/treat metaphor: When all this happened I was at the eve of 3 months. Coincidentally (see previous post) right at the 35th birthday.]
Miscarriage is a mystery. There is a list of potential "causes," but it appears thus far in my experience that no one is willing to point to the reason in individual cases. I was pregnancy THREE TIMES in 2008 and I have no babies!
With Devyn I could make not sense of it, but at least understand the event as something wrong with the baby. I didn't want a sick child; the baby wouldn't have been healthy - nature let it go. The second time around, it was different I felt it was more me, but the general me. I didn't locate the problem with my fertility or reproductive health, but rather general health. I wasn't ready (I convinced myself). With this one, I don't know where to even begin to wrap my head and heart around it. Obviously, the problem wasn't luteal phase defect. So, what was it? Why is this continuing to happen to me?
Now I want some answers. I am pleased so far that my doctor is treating my case differently now. With this third I cross an imaginary threshold whereby I qualify for investigation. After all the hormones are gone I am to begin a battery of blood work. Does it all come back to blood?!
... much more to say, feel and think on this, so the story will continue
Let me back up the proverbial "truck" (which is both what my body feels like and what I feel like I've been hit by in the last year). You may recall from an earlier post almost a year ago (The Day That Changed Everything) that I suffered my first miscarriage in February 2008. This rocked my world. I couldn't believe that something like that would happen to me - me the one with two beautiful, healthy boys. It did. And, yes - I got over it; but not over it like you get over a cold. I can't say that each time I have been struck by "Acute viral nasopharyngitis" or "acute coryza" it has irrevocably changed me. The miscarriage, which for me was the loss of my baby Devyn, did alter who and what I was (not completely). It altered how I saw the world and myself in it, and not in a purely negative way. Finally getting past the "why me" pity party I realized that this experience, which at first crushed me, did not destroy my spirit. Rather, it made it and me stronger. It turned the core and/or character I thought I was/had into elastic. I was stretched in all directions, including toward my own children, my husband, my friends, my work and away from each at times. It was as if someone or something from outside me was manipulating me. My life and my soul (if you will) seemed no longer mine to possess or control. But, as I said, I got over it.
After much soul searching, lots of tears and a few screams DOAD and I were as prepared as we could be to "try again." Trying again after miscarriage is a scary undertaking. I wondered could it happen again? I waited the prescribed two healthy menstrual cycles and we were ready to try for the next pregnancy. It came as quite a surprise last June when we realized we were, in fact, pregnant again. I remember feeling not only excited about it, but also relieved that we wouldn't have to go through the up/down ride of trying to get pregnant (e.g. period, wait 10-14 days, start testing with ovulation sticks etc..... am I? perhaps - no coffee, no wine, no running, no.....). It seemed almost too good to be true. And, it was. July 6th (the day after B1's 5th birthday) I started bleeding, heavy, and I knew what was happening. Somehow (although I remember being sad and upset) it didn't seem to be as bad or as hard to deal with as the first time. It was so early (5 weeks) and we had only known for a week. It was easier to tell myself that I wasn't ready and I hadn't given my body enough time to heal and get healthy from the first miscarriage yet. Off we went the next day to visit family and I tried to just carry on like everything was fine.
Was it? Perhaps. I started getting serious about running again. I went to the gym before work in the mornings and watched more carefully what I put into my body. By the Fall I felt wonderful. I had reached the weight I wanted (I think 1 or 2 pounds less than when I was pregnant with B2 - at time time I felt this mattered!!). I was ready. We were ready.
Ready for what is now the question. After a couple months of trying to conceive my LMP (for those unfamiliar with this speak that's last menstrual period) was October 31st 2008. Forgive my perhaps morbid humour but what first appeared as a treat turned out to be a trick!
Early December I did a pregnancy test and YES, it confirmed it: we were expecting! As I had two miscarriages I had been advised to contact my OBGYN as soon as we were pregnant. I was hyper vigilant now. No running, no caffeine, no alcohol. This time, though, I added more than 'Materna' (pre-natal vitamins) to my daily regiment. My doctor indicated that for some women early pregnancy loss is related to luteal phase defect (low progesterone). I may want to opt for progesterone suppositories. So, there began my mornings with a waxy pill specially made for me that I would pop and days ended the same way. Add a little lose dose aspirin for good measure and the control I had over this pregnancy was complete. Well... I had positive thoughts too?!!? As well, the nurse scheduled me for an early ultrasound, "just to make sure everything was good."
December 29th came, the ultrasound appointment. I should have been at almost 9 weeks, but when the technician did the ultrasound he found a healthy gestational sac measuring at 7 weeks, 5 days and only a small fetal pole. I was sent to the restroom to empty my full bladder so they could do an internal ultrasound to get a better picture. There I looked at myself in the mirror, "This is all going to be alright," I actually said aloud. I felt nothing was wrong (and I was the one who was wrong). I returned for the next step. After the tech had completed the search for my baby's heartbeat and came back empty handed, he left to get the doctor.
This time around the doctor wasn't cold, she merely indicated that "we would have expected and liked to see more at this point. We couldn't get a heartbeat and it would have been there at 6 weeks. Could your dates be off?" I was puzzled and didn't quite know what to make of this. I told her I had a long cycle and hadn't had regular periods. She said to come back in a couple of weeks. I needed something more, so I said, "What are you saying, it is 50/50?" "Yes," she replied.
Somehow I was able to get through the 18 days between this and the next ultrasound. Finally, it was January 15th 2009. Throughout this time I had remained calm, hopeful and otherwise pregnant. My nausea, breast fullness, tummy expansion and hormonal temperament had not subsided. I had no signs the pregnancy was failing. I woke feeling excited that I would hear my baby's heartbeat and know that everything was alright. The experience was not quite was I anticipated.
The technician moved the wand back and forth and I attempted to gain the best glimpse of the screen I could. At that moment, I knew. The fetus was no longer living. This pregnancy was over; only my body wasn't acting like it. The report would indicate no evidence of the fetus, likely already absorbed. The gestational sac this time measured at 8 weeks, 5 days. I don't know what this means. Perhaps things progressed and my baby's heart did beat, or maybe it was already dying at the first ultrasound and the products of conception [which the contents of my uterus would later be referred to as] had simply continued the process of pregnancy without the little being they were supposed to support. All I knew was that this third miscarriage gained me entrance into a new category, "recurrent miscarriage." I had had three miscarriages in a row.... after two healthy pregnancies and babies. But.. I am getting ahead of myself.
I left the clinic. I didn't yet cry. I called my husband and told him our terrible news. He had been so supportive over the past weeks. He kept me upbeat and didn't allow me to lose faith. [Thank-you.] In explaining what happened and how I was making sense of the non-sensical I lost it. I wept in my car alone into my cell phone. Shortly after that, sipping on my REcaffeinated coffee, I drove back to work. I carried on, proceeded as usual. The next day, I started to bleed. I still find this fascinating how the mind and body are both interconnected and at odds. Once my brain knew it was over, I must have let go. Yet, why/how could my mind (all those positive thoughts) keep my body from miscarrying earlier?! These answers I will never have. I do expect other answers, though.
Throughout the weekend the bleeding continued, although not extremely heavily. After I had lost what I thought was most of 'it,' the bleeding started to tapper off. I figured this was a good sign. The early pregnancy loss clinic at the hospital had contacted my Friday (the day after the ultrasound) and urged me to come in 9:00 am Monday morning. In addition to support, they wanted to assess me, get some blood tests done and since I am Rh negative I would need a shot of WinRow/Rhogam.
I left alone for the hospital with DOAD at home with my boys. I got there, pad in place, and spoke to the nurse. I had gone directly to the clinic, so wasn't ever admitted to the hospital. We discussed my options: 1. Let my body finish the miscarriage on its own; 2. Take a drug to make my uterus contract and complete the miscarriage with chemical assistance; 3. Have another ultrasound, get a doctor's opinion on how to proceed; 4. Schedule a D and C. I was planning a trip in two days, so I was concerned about the time frame, however, I had already started bleeding (unlike last February), so I felt comfortable telling the nurse, "I'm just going to let my body do what it's going to do." I didn't know what accurate those words were! Off I went to the lab and here is where things went sideways. I had to wait about 30 minutes for my blood work. During this time I had to dash not once but 6 times to the restroom in order to release the bleeding into the toilet! At this point I became a little concerned.
After they took my blood I returned to the clinic and sat down with the nurse. At first she explained that the shot wouldn't be ready for 1-2 hours and I could go home. Then, she looked at me and I could tell I didn't look good. "Perhaps, we should have you lay down in a room." I needed to go to the toilet (same story as above). This to the room, back to the toilet continued I don't know how many times. The nurse monitored the blood loss. She also checked the contents and told me, "This is not tissue, it is all blood clots." That is not good!
From here on it's a little hazy. From what I recall I was over the toilet hemorrhaging and the nurse was rubbing my back. Next thing more blood, cold sweat/hot needles, and I am out. I come to and feel absolutely like death. A total loss of control (much more so than in birthing my two children), numb and sensation all at the same time. Again, I faint. Now there are several bodies surrounding me and my own is betraying me. First the baby, now all my blood! I was later told that in the span of an hour I lost almost a liter of blood. The nurses and doctors must have put me in a stretcher because next I recall trying to pull my phone from my purse and hearing a voice (my own) say, "I have to call my husband." From not a patient, to outpatient, to emergency, to operating room to recovery, to day surgery - I would certainly have a tour of the hospital that day (although I wasn't conscious for most of it!) I was classified as high risk. As blood poured out of me they rushed me to Emergency. Another woman had been scheduled to have a D and C. She was stable, waiting. I was not. The operating room, the doctor and the team was all ready and prepared, I was to 'bump' her and it would be my body the next procedure would be preformed on that morning.
Everything went well. I escaped having a transfusion. I left a few hours later with a recovering uterus, a bruised hand (from the IV) and a bruised heart. WHAT JUST HAPPENED?
What the "What to expect when you're expecting" books FAIL TO EXPLAIN is what to expect when we are no longer expecting. They fail to equip women with the tools, skills and resolve to withstand the pain and confusion associated with early pregnancy loss. The wider culture also basically ignores miscarriage. This silence hurts not only women, but the men in their lives who suffer silently because they know they are probably their partner's only support system. [Back to the trick/treat metaphor: When all this happened I was at the eve of 3 months. Coincidentally (see previous post) right at the 35th birthday.]
Miscarriage is a mystery. There is a list of potential "causes," but it appears thus far in my experience that no one is willing to point to the reason in individual cases. I was pregnancy THREE TIMES in 2008 and I have no babies!
With Devyn I could make not sense of it, but at least understand the event as something wrong with the baby. I didn't want a sick child; the baby wouldn't have been healthy - nature let it go. The second time around, it was different I felt it was more me, but the general me. I didn't locate the problem with my fertility or reproductive health, but rather general health. I wasn't ready (I convinced myself). With this one, I don't know where to even begin to wrap my head and heart around it. Obviously, the problem wasn't luteal phase defect. So, what was it? Why is this continuing to happen to me?
Now I want some answers. I am pleased so far that my doctor is treating my case differently now. With this third I cross an imaginary threshold whereby I qualify for investigation. After all the hormones are gone I am to begin a battery of blood work. Does it all come back to blood?!
... much more to say, feel and think on this, so the story will continue
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