My Ideal Birth..

So people keep telling me that I need to focus on the positive, not my fears and concerns about birth. I know this is true, but that’s easier said than done.  So in an attempt to think positively about this, I’m going to write about what my idea birth plan/experience would be, and try to work on visualizing that as I wait for Morgan to decide she’s ready to come.

What do I want, really? It’s pretty simple. I want to have Morgan naturally, without any drugs to slow either of us down. I want to push her out, have her handed to me (I’ve never experienced this) and get to hold her, and look at her. I want to have the opportunity to nurse her within the first hour of birth, and see that “awake, aware” newborn moment that supposedly happens right after birth.

So what does my ideal birth look like? I don’t know. I don’t really care as long as I’m able to do it. I would love to have a fast (even if intense) labor, preferably without back labor. But honestly, I can handle the back labor as long as I fully dilate and feel the need to push. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.

I see things starting mid-day, and getting intense pretty quickly. I would like to be able to labor at home as long as possible because just being in the hospital makes me nervous and slows things down for me.  Ideally I would get to the hospital just in time to get the antibiotics I will need for GBS, and not much sooner. I will be able to walk around and move, without an IV pole attached to me. Maybe get in the shower for a bit. Bounce on my ball. I want to remember to say to myself, “open” over and over … I like that image. I need to relax, and allow my body to open and do what it needs to.

Ideally, I will feel the need to push and just let that happen as it feels right. No laying on my back in stirrups while people count at me, no thank you! Just stand, squat, on hands and knees.. whatever feels right and will get the baby out. I don’t want to forcefully push, I would like to just let my body push the baby out on it’s own.

When she’s born, I want her placed on me, cord still attached. I want it left untouched until it stops pulsating, and I picture Jeremy and I just taking the time to look at her, and feel the emotions that will come flooding because she is here, and she is OK.

In the end, birth is unpredictable and there is no telling how things will happen, and what will feel right. I’m going to concentrate on thinking about a positive experience .. and the end result. I want to remember to trust my body and believe that it is capable of giving birth naturally.

34-35 weeks, now .. not long until it’s time to meet Morgan. And I want to spend these last few weeks picturing a positive outcome for all of us.

Gavin’s Birth Story

As I head into the final weeks of my pregnancy with Morgan Riley, and anticipate her birth, I’m realizing that I have never really allowed myself to process Gavin’s birth – and deal with the emotions connected to it. Since immediately after birth Gavin was so very sick, and transferred to another hospital/NICU, I went into survival mode. We were in survival mode for the 10 weeks he was with us, and honestly, for many months after as well. I had planned a natural birth for Gavin, but ended up with a c-section (necessary) .. and didn’t even get any time to heal from it physically .. I asked (and was granted) release from the hospital less than 24 hours after the section so I could go be with Gavin. I walked long distances from the car to the University NICU where he was staying, and aside from getting my staples out a week after the section, didn’t have the time or energy to really deal with it. I did what I had to do, and that was get up and be there with Gavin. But I’m feeling the need to reflect on the entire birth experience, and try to move forward before I attempt my VBA2C with Morgan.

September 29, 2010

I had just turned 37 weeks and began having regular, crampy contractions in the afternoon. But because I tend to be crampy towards the end of pregnancy in general, I didn’t pay much attention. We went to dinner with my parents at California Pizza Kitchen, and I remember commenting to my husband on the way home that I was having regular cramps every 10 mins or so and that I was starting to think this might be early labor. They continued through the evening, and when we went to lay down and go to bed, they were getting more intense and I was unable to fall asleep. My husband called his supervisor and told him he would not be going to work the next day. I told Jeremy to get some rest, and I went out to the living room to listen to a hypnobabies track and relax since I couldn’t sleep. I got on MDC and told my October DDC that I thought this was it, I was in labor. The contractions were getting stronger and closer together but I was able to relax and stay comfortable through them.  Around 2am they were getting stronger and closer together, so we called my Mom to make the hour drive over to watch Alex. She arrived about 3:30am, and I continued to labor in the living room until about 5am when they were coming very close together and we decided to head to the hospital.

Once we arrived at the hospital, I started feeling anxious and while hooked up to the monitors, my contractions slowed down considerably. They checked me and I was only 3cm, so we decided to go back home and let me labor more on my own before being admitted. Gavin’s heart rate was high, and did not do the normal decrease and increase they expect to see with a healthy baby.. but they allowed me to go home and we did not think much of it. We called my Doula, who happened to be newly pregnant and had a dr. appt that morning (she uses my same OB, and his office is connected to the hospital) – she agreed to check on me and hang around after her appointment if I wasn’t already back at the hospital.

September 30, 2010

So once we were back home, my contractions picked back up and I was able to labor in the living room while listening to hypnobabies. I was quite relaxed and handling everything well when I felt a huge gush .. I went to the bathroom and my underwear was filled with huge blood clots. It looked like large chunks of liver, and there was a ton of blood. I freaked out. I knew something was not right – I called Jeremy in and he freaked out at the amount of blood. We called the hospital and said we were on our way back, and for a moment considered going to a closer hospital (I was worried about an abruption or something) but decided to just rush to our hospital of choice. My contractions were hard and strong and since I was now scared and concerned about the huge blood clots (and still bleeding more) I was also not relaxed and hurting quite a bit. Once in labor and delivery I remember being so relieved when they hooked me up and we head Gavin’s heartbeat. I was so scared that something was bad wrong. I remember being hooked up to the monitor with strong contractions and it flashing “ADMIT PATIENT NOW” – Jeremy and I both got a good laugh out of that one.

We were put in a room and my Doula arrived shortly after 9am. Because Gavin’s heartrate was still high (and not ever going back down) they gave me an IV of fluids and wanted to keep me on a monitor. They did put me on a portable monitor which is better than being strapped to a bed since I was able to move, but I still had a box and iv pole attached to me. I was bleeding quite a bit and kept having to change pads, but needed Jeremy’s help in the bathroom. He sweetly helped me, and would change my pads for me while helping with the stuff attached to me. I was about 6cm at this point, and the nurses said I probably bled from dilating fast. I didn’t buy it, and to be honest, I think from the moment I saw those blood clots, I knew in my heart something wasn’t right. I was now having painful back labor, and wasn’t able to use my hypnobabies techniques to relax. Instead my Doula and Jeremy took turns putting pressure on my lower back while I tried different positions to get comfortable. I labored this way for hours – to be honest, I can’t even tell you how many because it’s all a blur. At some point in the late afternoon I remember us trying all kinds of positions to try and get Gavin to turn and get into a better position, but I just continued with painful back labor, and when I finally asked to be checked was at 9cm. I was feeling nauseous, but had no food in my stomach so ever so often I would have dry heaves and attempt to throw up. We all thought I was nearing transition, and I remember them setting up supplies, etc like I was getting ready to have him. But instead, the labor just continued, and I was not feeling an urge to push. Around 7pm I started to break – the contractions were intense and I had been stuck in this painful labor pattern for hours. I asked to be checked and I was 9, not quite 10cm there was still a lip of cervix left.

They could feel a bulging bag of water, and in desperation I agreed to let them rupture it to see if it would speed things up, When ruptured, there was meconium. For a brief while after my water was broken, maybe 20-30 mins, I got relief from the back labor. I felt refreshed, and like I could keep going like this (without that pain!) for a long time. But it didn’t take long for the back labor to return, and with a vengeance.  I started to become desperate, and begged for an epidural. They said my white blood cell count was too high for one anyway, it wasn’t an option. They asked if I wanted morphine. I said yes. I took some pain relief and manged to sleep a bit in between contractions for about an hour. When the morphine wore off, I got back up and we tried some different positions again to try and get things moving. I was still stuck at almost 10cm with a tiny lip of cervix left. My contractions were intense and had been one after another for hours upon hours now at an extremely high intensity. I was still bleeding and leaking amniotic fluid so I had to keep a towel between my legs to keep from slipping on the mess.

I broke. I said I want a c-section, this baby is not coming out. The Dr. said he would like to try to manually move the lip of my cervix while I push during a contraction, because I was so close to having this baby vaginally. I agreed. It was quite painful, and I did my best to push during three different contractions while he moved my cervix lip. But it didn’t work. I was feeling so exhausted that I don’t feel like I pushed very strongly anyway – and we all agreed, it was probably time to have a c-section. One of the wonderful things about this is that the dr. let this be totally my decision – I was not pressured, and they would have allowed me to continue to labor had that been my wish. But I was done, and I knew this was necessary.

I was taken into the cold, sterile room and given a spinal since my white blood cell count was too high for an epidural. It only took a matter of minutes, and they had Jeremy in the room with me. I was so tired, that once I had pain relief in place, I started falling asleep on the table. I remember waking myself back up, not wanting to miss his first cries .. but hardly being able to keep my eyes open. Jeremy entered the room and they got ready to perform the section. The Dr. told me he was not going to be able to use my old scar from Alex, and then next thing I knew, they were pulling Gavin out. It was silent. He didn’t make a sound for what seemed like an eternity. I found out later he was floppy and didn’t breathe on his own, they had to bag him to get him to start breathing. Gavin was shown to me briefly, then taken to the NICU. I told Jeremy to go with him, and I was left in recovery for an hour. I fell asleep, exhausted.

When I woke up I was being rolled back to my postpartum room, where Jeremy and my Doula were waiting for me. I couldn’t believe she was still here (it was close to midnight at this point) and she pretty quickly gave me a hug and left. I wanted to see Gavin, but they told me to wait a few hours and then I could go to the NICU. I didn’t realize at the time he wasn’t breathing and they were in the process of putting him on CPAP and running tests because something was obviously wrong with him.

September 31, 2010

I fell asleep for maybe 2 hours, then woke up and wanted to go see Gavin. I asked for my catheter to be removed, they gave me some pain meds, and I got up and took a shower. The nurses were SHOCKED to see me up and dressed, but I was ready to go see my baby.

The rest of this story has been told, as this is when our nightmare really began …

Some of the things that come to mind when I think about this birth, and the VBA2C I have coming up…

1. I’m still traumatized by the amount of blood clots and blood that happened. I’ve yet to read where that is “normal” .. and hopefully it wont happen again, but I can so clearly remember the fear, the feeling something was wrong .. and my fear it will happen again.

2.  The long, long, long intense back labor. I know Gavin was in a bad position and his head was huge. Rationally I know that’s why I had such long, prolonged back labor .. but I have the fear of it happening again. I literally hit my breaking point during his labor, and I’m scared it will happen again.

3.  Faith in my body has been somewhat rattled. Our bodies are not supposed to grow a baby we can’t birth, right? But mine did. I feel somewhat broken, and my confidence is shaken.

Gavin’s Angel

I have a story I want to share, but every time I try to write about what happened, it does not sound right. So I have decided I’m just going to tell this story as it unfolded, and hope it comes across as special as it is to us..

About half way through my pregnancy with Gavin, I started to see what I can only explain as a ghost in our house. It was a glowing figure, about the height of an 8-9 year old child. I would see it out of the corner of my eye, going into the nursery we were preparing for Gavin. Sometimes during one of my many late night bathroom trips, I would catch a glimpse of this spirit quickly passing the bathroom in the hallway, again going towards Gavin’s room. I have never been a believer, in fact, I’ve always considered myself a skeptic. So I kept what I was seeing quiet and did not share it with my husband or child.

A few weeks later, as I was passing by my then 7 year old’s bedroom door one night, I heard him having a conversation with someone. I stopped and listened, and could not hear anyone talking back to him, but he seemed to be talking to another child about something. The next day I asked him who he was talking to, and he simply said, “The little girl that has been visiting me when I have trouble falling asleep”. Alex has Aspergers, so he is honest to a fault – and he’s also not the most imaginative child out there. When he says something, you can take it as the absolute truth. I was blown away – was this little girl visiting him the same one I had been seeing in the hallway?  I asked him some questions and he was able to give me complete details about his new visitor – from her whitish glow to some freckles on her face.  He said she was wearing a long white dress and had her hair in braids. I couldn’t believe it … what I had seen was exactly the same. I had never seen her face, she moved too quickly. But I could tell it was a little girl, and she appeared to be wearing a long white nightgown.  Alex said she would ask him what games he liked to play and talk with him until he would fall asleep. He said she only visited on the nights he was having trouble getting to sleep.

That night I told Jeremy about what I had been seeing, and what Alex had told me. I could see the color literally drain from his face. He told me he had been seeing something too – glowing white, from what he could tell a little girl usually walking into Gavin’s room. He said he didn’t know how to bring it up and thought I wouldn’t believe him.

So we all saw this little girl, and she became a pretty regular presence around our house. She would come visit Alex when he was having trouble sleeping, and both Jeremy and I would just catch small glimpses of her late at night. One time I woke up and saw her peeking into our bedroom from the hallway. I only dared to tell one friend about her, she was pretty much our little secret because we thought everyone would think we had lost our minds.  We wondered why she had decided to hang around our house, but accepted her presence.

The rest of my pregnancy came and went, and as you already know our baby boy Gavin was born very ill. His brain had not formed correctly and from the moment he left the protection of my womb, he struggled to survive. Gavin spent his first two weeks of life in our local University Hospital NICU – and while I was up several times a night pumping milk for him, I would still see our little girl ghost.  Gavin came home – very sick. He had frequent seizures and required around the clock care. As I would sit up feeding him late at night, I would see the little girl. Sometimes she would peak around the corner of his bedroom door, but more than anything I could feel her there with us. Gavin had horrible seizures – there is nothing worse than holding your baby, watching him seize and feeling completely helpless. On many occasions I would rock Gavin and cry, telling him it was going to be ok, this seizure was almost over .. while wondering how I was going to survive the pain of watching my newborn baby suffer like this. I felt her there. As my tears fell, I knew I wasn’t alone with Gavin, she was very close to us.

Gavin went back into the hospital to try and get his seizures under control. He was there another two weeks and again, while I was up at night pumping milk, she was with me. I saw her every night.  Gavin came back home, still very fragile – on around the clock medications as well as daily injections. Again, as I was up with him each night, she was there. His seizures never improved, but as we struggled through them, she was with us.

After two weeks at home, Gavin went back into the hospital – this time, he would not return home. I was exhausted and decided to quit pumping – so I didn’t see our little visitor very much because I was at the hospital with Gavin all day, and sleeping at night.  On December 19, 2010 – our sweet baby Gavin fell asleep forever in our arms. It was a Sunday morning, and we were preparing to meet with hospice and take him home the next day, but he was ready to go. Watching him die was the single most painful experience of my life – I can’t imagine anything will ever be that hard, ever again. But it was also very peaceful. He did not struggle – he went to sleep in Jeremy’s arms.  The next few weeks are honestly a complete fog – funeral, Christmas, trying to survive and continue on with life for Alex .. while a huge part of you is dead inside.

Weeks went by before Jeremy and I realized that we no longer saw the little girl anymore. I asked Alex if he had seen her, and he said no. I could feel she was gone, not hiding, but completely gone from our home.

Looking back, I believe that little girl was Gavin’s angel. She appeared in our home right around the same time his brain stopped forming correctly, and she was with us until he was gone. I believe she was here to watch over Gavin, and take him to Heaven. She did her job, and we have not seen or heard anything since.  I wish I could thank that little angel for taking care of  Gavin and for giving me such comfort while I struggled during his life .. but I’m pretty sure she knows how much he was wanted and loved – and I believe she knew exactly why she was here, and how much she helped.

It’s a girl!

I had a feeling from the very beginning that this baby was a girl … but at other times I wondered if maybe I was just wanting a different gender than Gavin. Well, we had our ultrasound this week and she was not shy… we are really having a little girl. I’m thrilled.

Hello Second Trimester…

I know, it’s been forever since I’ve updated this blog. I honestly wanted to come back and write about Gavin’s birthday, and just how difficult that was for me. But it seems like such a daunting task to come unleash all of that pain. And to be honest, it’s been easier to just avoid it.  So I’ve been myself permission to come blog about my pregnancy, and when I’m ready, I will write about Gavin’s birthday. Maybe by the time December 19th gets here (the day he gained his wings) I will be more ready to open up and share.

So, I’m in the second trimester already! Wow! I’m 14 weeks. It’s gone by pretty fast honestly. My energy is back to normal, nausea is gone and I started feeling the baby kick this week.

We had our NT scan several weeks ago, and it was negative. I wish I could jump up and down and say we are in the clear now but that’s just not the case. At least I can say we don’t have to worry about Downs and Trisomy, with my “advanced maternal age” and all. Oh, how I hate that term!

At the NT scan, the ultrasound tech gave me a picture that has a pretty clear shot of the typical “hamburger bun” you see with little girls. That was way early, so who knows .. but I’m hoping at my appointment and ultrasound on November 7th, they might be able to peek a tell me what they see.  I will be 15+3 .. so it’s likely. I know with Alex, they told me to be thinking about boy names around 15 weeks .. and sure enough, they were correct. So I can hope!  I’m getting serious little girl vibes. But I don’t know how much of that is me wanting a different gender from Gavin. Something in me thinks it would be so much easier and less stressful for me to have a girl this time.

Otherwise, we are plugging along and doing well. I’m showing way more than I ever have before at this point, and I fully blame that on having two babies back to back. My ab muscles must still be shot – I know my c-section scar is still numb in spots, I have just not had all that much time to heal. So I look pretty pregnant already and really need to buy some maternity clothes. Stuffing myself into my regular stuff is not pretty – and all of my maternity stuff from last year is summer stuff. I am very much looking forward to not being pregnant over a summer, for the first time!!

Emotionally, I think Jeremy and I are doing as well as can be expected. We can’t help but be nervous at times. On the other hand we are both excited and hopeful. We don’t believe God makes mistakes .. and this little one happened when we were not trying, and honestly shouldn’t have been able to stick around without the help of progesterone (which I chose not to take) .. but it has. So we are both optimistic this is our rainbow baby. Some days I feel like  real nut job because I’m so freaked out over germs and not putting anything dangerous into my body. I’m like a walking hand sanitizer factory and you will not catch my anywhere near a deli meat, I’m scrubbing my veggies and fruit like  mad woman, etc. The other day I had a headache so bad I was nearly in tears, and finally broke down and took 1 tylenol.  I hate being this way – but after Gavin, we understand the risk of contracting something is very, very real.

Speaking of contracting a virus that could have injured Gavin .. we are currently waiting for Dr. Dobyns in Seattle to review Gavin’s MRI. Dr. Dobyns is THE guy to go to about lissencephaly .. he’s both a neurologist and a geneticist. Most of the research written about liss is by him. I contacted him several months ago to see if he would review Gavin’s MRI and medical records and give his opinion. To my delight, he responded right away and said yes. He’s even speeding up the process since I’m pregnant. He’s got all of the medical records, and his assistant told me last week he is in the process of reviewing everything!! I’m nervous as can be and so anxious too! He should be able to tell us if he thinks Gavin had a syndrome, or infection. I’m on pins and needles and hope we hear something soon. We are so blessed to have this opportunity – many people wait YEARS for him to review their MRI, and he is doing ours within a matter of weeks.

I’ve got to run cook some breakfast for my boys. Then we are off to the pumpkin patch to get our pumpkins today. Can’t wait to spend this beautiful fall day with my two favorite guys. 🙂

 

9 weeks – and when to tell?

I’m now 9 weeks pregnant, or in my 10th week (it’s so funny how different sites calculate it different ways). I’ve known about this pregnancy for just over 5 weeks now, it’s actually gone by very fast.

I’m sick as hell most days, and actually throw up all or part of a meal about once a day. I’m already showing – and although it just looks like I’ve put on weight, it’s really that everything in my abdomen has just decided it remembers how to look pregnant and is going to just go right back to that state. I swear, it’s not bloat and it’s not baby – everything has just like moved upwards and it’s not a pretty sight.
We’ve seen the heartbeat, so far everything is going well and to be honest, at the point where we will be able to find out that it’s NOT going well, I’m going to be already showing.

So when do we start telling people?

We’ve already told family and friends, the people that are there for us, that we knew would support us through another miscarriage, etc. But I suppose it’s getting to be about time to tell the rest of the world, extended family, friends we don’t see often, etc. I’m thinking I will send out some texts and maybe post on Facebook after our next appt – October 6th. We will have another ultrasound then, and instead of a blob I should be able to share a picture that looks something like a baby.

I guess what I dread most are the questions once we tell people. Because of Gavin, instead of being happy for us, so many people are instantly curious. All of a sudden those private things we don’t ask people, are just fine to ask us.

“Did you plan this pregnancy?”  “How will they monitor the baby?”  “What will you do if it’s brain does not develop correctly?” … and on and on.  No offense, but it’s not like we didn’t think about these things, and to be honest, I may not really feel like sharing with you my plans. This is an emotional journey, and we need support, day to day our feelings and plans change. We don’t exactly know .. this is a walk of faith.

The majority of my friends and family have been simply wonderful. Crying tears of joy, praying with us and for this baby, and rejoicing in this new life.

Gavin’s 1st birthday is next Friday. I’m already feeling so emotional about it, happy and sad, and more than anything, missing him so much my heart aches. I know he’s watching over us, over his little brother or sister and that gives me comfort. But what I wouldn’t do to hold him one more time, hug him close and just BE with him. That is the hardest part, by far.

So 9 weeks pregnant … going to announce this baby to the world in about 2 weeks. Next Dr. appt is October 6th, and specialist appt at UAB October 17th.

Yes, there IS a baby in there.

Yesterday I had the joy of having an early dating ultrasound, and my first OB appointment of this pregnancy.

It’s almost surreal going back to Shelby Baptist – just about one year ago I gave birth to Gavin there, and our lives changed forever.  Every time I drive into that parking lot, I get little flashbacks. Pulling into the “in labor” parking spot, all of those hours of back labor while I moaned (ok, let me be honest, screamed) and Jeremy and Kaleigh took turns putting pressure on my lower back. Eventually a c-section (just what I was trying to avoid) and the birth of Gavin. Life changing event that was just shy of one year ago.

At 8:20 yesterday, Jeremy and I drove into that very same parking lot, and I saw it on his face too. It hurts still, there is no way around it. Once inside the doctor’s office, we went straight to the ultrasound room. Unfortunately, this tech was not aware of our situation, remembered us from as year and asked how old our baby was now.  Luckily, I’m an old pro at answering that question, and it does not even bring up much emotion in me. I told her he would be almost a year old, but is an angel and only lived 10 weeks. Always a great way to start off a convo, since whoever asked that question automatically starts apologizing. It really is ok, we are used to that question, I promise.

So the ultrasound tech hands me the wand and says “insert it like a tampon” … uh, yea right. Last time I checked tampons are not large plastic wands, this thing looks more like… well, use your imagination. Right away she measures the gestational sac and shows me the yolk sac. Then she finds the baby, who is literally nestled down in the bottom. The tech was joking and saying the baby had made a cozy little bed down there. We saw the heartbeat, 123 beats per minute. Baby measured 6 weeks 5 days.

I knew there would be a baby in there. I’m too sick, bitchy and exhausted for this to be anything else but a viable pregnancy. My fear is not IF there is a baby in there, but how this baby is going to develop.

So then we see Dr. Head, who I simply love to death. Of course we get a bit of special treatment because of Gavin … he is going to hold our hands through this, and I can not thank him enough for that. He is going to give me an ultrasound each time I have an appointment – yes, to check brain development, but also to put my mind at ease.

We are also going to see a Maternal Fetal Medicine specialist at UAB. My first appt with them is October 17, and I will know more. I did talk with the department yesterday, and they already knew me. A genetic counselor got on the phone when she heard it was me .. turns out she had met me in the hospital with Gavin, and knew our history, etc.  She confirmed that there is nothing they can genetically test this baby for .. but also let a little info “slip” – she was reading the geneticist’s notes and said he thought it was open and shut infection .. but had to counsel us about other risks.  We knew it looked like infection, but didn’t realize genetics felt so strongly in that direction. For some reason, that gives me comfort.

My next appointment is October 6th, ultrasound then Dr. visit. I’m due April 28, 2012.  There IS a baby in there, and this process is out of our hands. We must have faith, and I do.

Our first OB appointment is almost here .. finally.

Who knew time could move so fast, yet also so slowly .. at the very same time!

On one hand, I’ve got Alex and time is moving at light speed. I swear this kid grows taller and more mature every time I blink. He’s in 3rd grade now and we are busy, busy! Between school, homework (3rd grade is NO JOKE), after school activities and still finding time to have fun together .. our days are pretty packed.

But on the other hand, time is barely creeping along. After the morning rush, I’m often left on my own in this quiet house with plenty of time to think. Not always a great thing when you have early pregnancy hormones and lots of what-if’s to ponder.

So our first major decision of this pregnancy was to chill the hell out, and not have any early blood drawn. We knew we would not supplement with progesterone, and wanted this pregnancy healthy all on it’s own, or let nature take it’s course.

It’s been over 3 weeks since I found out I was pregnant, and yes, as far as I know I’m still pregnant. As recent was last Friday I had doubts and pee’d on a pregnancy test. I felt like a fool when the test line came up before the control line, and was 2x darker. Yes, I’m pregnant.

It’s also been 3 excruciatingly long weeks waiting for our first ob appointment. We could have gone in earlier, but chose to wait and see if I kept this pregnancy on my own. It looks like I have, and our ultrasound is this Thursday, 8:20am.  I really have no doubts we will see our little jelly bean on the screen, heartbeat flickering away. My nerves are more wracked over learning about the testing they will do and how this pregnancy will be managed.

I’ve done my research. I know most of what will be recommended .. and yet, there is something bout hearing it from my Dr. Confirming “the plan” and knowing that yes, he will agree to a zillion ultrasounds, fetal MRI, testing for everything under the sun possible, etc. And I know he will .. I even know what specialist he will send us to at UAB .. but I guess I just need the confirmation. I can’t freaking wait to get to our appointment on Thursday, and feel like we are not in this alone.

Thursday, I can’t wait for you to get here. I will be 6w6days. It can’t come soon enough. The flood gates will open, and after this appointment we will be in for one wild ride of frequent ultrasounds, blood tests, procedures and more tests. Bring it on, I’m so ready. If nothing else, it makes me feel more in control of this process .. and as much as I’m trying to let go, and give up control (because who are we kidding, things are either going to be ok, or they are not!) I am looking very much forward to Thursday.

Look for an updated entry after our appointment.

BFP!! (That’s Big Fat Positive) ie, I’m Pregnant!

Anyone that has tried to have a child before knows the anticipation and hope for a BFP – peeing on a stick and seeing those two lines come up, or now, with digital tests, reading “Pregnant”.  It’s an amazing feeling, usually a wonderful combination of shock and pure joy. WE DID IT, WE ARE HAVING A BABY!!

Well, as life tends to do, sometimes it teaches us lessons – lessons we sometimes don’t want to know or learn. Well before Gavin I learned that pregnancy is a very fragile process, and a positive pregnancy test does not always equal a baby.  So I’ve always been happy, but cautious. My moment to relax is when I see that fluttering heartbeat on the screen – the chances of miscarriage greatly decrease and that is usually when I actually begin to celebrate and believe I am really pregnant.

So here I am, pregnant again. I must admit, I believe I’m still in shock, more than a week after that positive test.

I guess I’ve been pregnant enough times now (5, to be exact) to know what it feels like very early on. So a few days before my period was due, when I was crampy, a raging bitch and just had “that feeling” … I decided to test.

First I woke up Jeremy to tell him what I suspected.  I honestly dreaded this – I had no idea how he would react. He gave me a hug and said his first emotion was to be excited, but then fear took over and he was scared to death. We shed a few tears and hugged, while I assured him that I felt the very same way. How could you not after what we have been through?

I made the trip to Dollar Tree for their amazing $1 pregnancy tests (which, in case you don’t know this little gem, are AMAZINGLY accurate and sensitive, much more so than the $15 tests in the grocery store).

Nervously I watched the test develop and within 2 minutes saw the faintest of lines. It was honestly so faint it was hard to see – but again, I’ve done this enough times to know a line is a line, and I was most likely pregnant. I took another test the next morning, and it was a darker positive. Later that day I also look a digital – those things leave nothing to the imagination, you are either ‘Pregnant’ or ‘Not Pregnant’. Yep, you guessed it…

So, here we are. I got that positive test on Thursday, August 18 and it’s over a week later, I’m actually 5 weeks pregnant today.

One of the very first decisions Jeremy and I had to make was how we were going to manage this pregnancy – were we going to let nature take it’s course, or intervene and take Progesterone since we know I’ve been deficient in the 1st trimester before?  We decided to take the first step towards trusting my body, and this pregnancy .. we chose not to supplement. If this baby is healthy and a viable pregnancy, we believe it will happen on it’s own.  I know Progesterone is not supposed to keep a pregnancy that is not viable .. but we will forever wonder if it did help me hold onto Gavin’s pregnancy, when my body knew it was not quite right.

It’s been over a week, and as the days progress, I feel more and more confident about this baby. I’m already having significant nausea, which we all know is a good sign, and was always lacking in my not-healthy pregnancies.

Overall, I have this hard to explain peace and calm. Ever since Gavin died, I’ve thought long and hard about how I would feel if I got pregnant again .. and I was pretty sure I’d be a neurotic, nervous mess. But for some reason, I’m just the opposite. Now don’t get me wrong .. I’ve got my moments of worry and that little voice is back there saying, “What if lissencephaly happens again?”. But I also have this zen, laid back calm that is honestly so not my personality. Deep down, my instincts tell me this is our rainbow baby.

I suppose only time will tell. Step one in my attempt to not be a neurotic mess this pregnancy is holding off on any early blood work. My first OB appointment is scheduled September 8th, I will be 6w6d and will have an ultrasound, then a regular Dr. appointment. We figured if I am not going to supplement with Progesterone, no need to stress over early HcG and Progesterone numbers – I will either make it to Sept 8th and there will be a heartbeat and viable baby, or not. Only time will tell.

For now, I chose to enjoy this early days of pregnancy, and every day that I have the gift of carrying this little one with me. I have learned the lard lesson of how fragile this process is – and I chose to spend the time I have with this little one in peace, and love.

The background – Our story, our loss

Otherwise known as: Why I’m a neurotic mess and feel the need to journal this pregnancy to keep my sanity.

To understand, you must know our entire story – so buckle in, it’s not pretty, but it’s real…

Back up to February 2010 – I got an unexpected positive pregnancy test. We were not planning to have more children, and were actively avoiding .. yet it happened. It was a bit of a crisis at first, my husband Jeremy did not want more children and had what I can honestly describe as an adult tantrum. Not pretty, but we worked through it.

As my pregnancy progressed, Jeremy became more and more excited. So did I – we loved this little baby and could not wait for a new member of our family. Our only child, who was 7 at the time was beyond excited for a sibling and from the very beginning would speak to my belly and talk to his growing brother or sister. I was thrilled to be pregnant again and made sure to take excellent care of myself – I special ordered high quality, real food vitamins, practiced yoga 3-4x a week and ate a very healthy, organic diet of mostly local foods.

Our 19 week anatomy scan came .. we were so excited that we had our son, Alex, and both of my parents there with us. As soon as the tech put the wand on my little belly she asked “Do you want to know the sex?” .. and she didn’t have to tell me, there was an obvious little penis in the center of the screen. We both cried .. another boy!! He was moving around like crazy, so much so the ultrasound tech asked me if I’d had caffeine that morning … we all laughed about how much trouble we were in for with this little boy. The ultrasound went beautifully, he was healthy and growing just as he was supposed to.

The rest of my pregnancy was pretty uneventful – I stayed healthy and started planning a natural birth. I had a c-section with Alex and was planning a natural VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) for this baby. I hired a Doula, took Hypnobabies childbirth classes and felt very prepared. We decided on a name … Gavin Connor, and we were just awaiting his arrival.

At 32 weeks my OBGYN wanted to do a quick ultrasound to check growth – we agreed, we knew Gavin was a good size, but honestly just wanted another peek at our baby! At that ultrasound, the tech spent a very long time looking at his head. When we met with the Dr., he said one of Gavin’s brain ventricles looked a bit “odd” and he thought we needed to see a specialist. He said not to worry, everything was probably fine, this was just to be safe.

Trying not to worry when you get news like that is impossible. We spent 2 weeks waiting for our Perinatologist appointment, and looking up everything we could about enlarged ventricles.  Jeremy even called into a local radio station that has a Dr on air some days, and talked with him about it … everyone agreed, worst case was probably hydrocephalus and might require a shunt a birth to drain extra fluid.

At 34 weeks our Perinatologist appointment finally came — they did a detailed ultrasound of Gavin’s head and determined he was perfectly fine. Large head, big baby, no problems. We held each other and cried tears of pure relief .. Gavin was ok.

I went into labor at exactly 37 weeks .. after a dinner at California Pizza Kitchen my contractions got stronger and stronger. They continued into the night and around 3am we called my Mom to drive over to watch Alex so we could head into the hospital.  I wont go into the long, long, intense experience that was my labor .. I will sum it up by saying Gavin’s head was much larger than anyone expected and he was positioned very poorly. That made for horrible back labor … thank goodness for my wonderful Doula and husband who both supported me so well.  Everyone in that hospital supported my plan for a natural birth and honestly did everything in their power to help that happen – but it was not in the cards. Gavin’s head was much too large, and after being stuck in transition at 9cm for hours, a c-section was necessary.  Looking back, we now know Gavin probably would not have survived the stress of  a vaginal birth, and a section was necessary for both of us.

When Gavin was born, he did not cry. After working on him for a few minutes he did start to cry and breathe, only to quit again a few mins later. They placed him in the NICU and put him on cpap. I was dying to see him, so just a few hours after my section, I got up, showered and had Jeremy wheel me down to the NICU. The nurses were shocked and kept saying, “Didn’t you JUST have a c-section?!” .. yes, I did and I want to be with my child!!!

Gavin looked so pitiful – IVs and wires everywhere, even a line coming out of his umbilical cord stump. But when I spoke to him, he turned his head and obviously recognized my voice. He looked just like Jeremy, even down to his long, thin feet.

One of the doctors came in, and asked to speak with us where we could have more privacy … I will never, ever forget the feel of that cold, empty hospital waiting room where we went to talk. Where that doctor told us something was wrong with Gavin’s brain, and he needed to be transferred to a more advanced hospital where they would figure it all out … he said a transport ambulance was on the way. Jeremy and I didn’t just cry, we sobbed.  We clung to each other – scared and so very upset.

This is NOT how it is supposed to happen when you have a baby! What about the joy? The celebration? Nursing, cuddling … happy times? No, this was wrong .. so, so very wrong. And it hurt to the core, we were terrified about what might be wrong with Gavin, the baby we wanted so badly and already loved with all of our hearts.

Because I was in such good condition after my c-section (thank you, adrenaline!) … the hospital agreed to release me less than 24 hours after my section so that I could go be with Gavin. I will be forever thankful to them for that – I can’t imagine being stuck in a different hospital, so far away from him.

So Gavin was transferred to UAB’s NICU within 24 hours of his birth, and my c-section. He was breathing with the aid of c-pap and it was their job to figure out what was going on with his head, heart, and also an abnormal kidney ultrasound. We visited him that night in the NICU, met the Dr’s and came back home late to get some rest. The next day we spent up there with Gavin, and just as we went home for the night, a dr called us and asked if we would like to come in and review some of the CT scans of Gavin’s head.

No one said lissencephaly at first – in fact, I don’t think someone actually said that word to me until his second hospital admission. But this first night, they told us something was very wrong with Gavin’s brain, it was “a bit smoother” than it should be, with calcifications in the midline around one of his ventricles. They called this a neuronal migrational disorder, said they could not tell us a prognosis – but that they guessed that I had caught an infection during my pregnancy that caused this. Gavin’s retinas were also damaged, which can be a sign of infection. So Gavin was given a spinal tap to remove fluid and test for CMV, Toxo, and several other viruses that can cause this.  All were negative. His heart murmor healed on it’s own, kidney function was fine even though one was enlarged, and within a few days he was able to wean off the cpap and breathe room air.

Here are a few pictures of us holding him at UAB

I was pumping milk for him, and after a few days, I was able to bottlefeed him my milk instead of him being fed with an ng tube. He was not a good eater – in fact, he would NOT eat for the nurses, but he ate like a champ for me. One evening Gavin had what appeared to be a seizure – he was given meds and an EEG was ordered. My poor baby – he was hooked up to the EEG for well over 48 hours – it was supposed to be only 24, but his EEG was so abnormal they kept him on it much longer. The electrodes got hot and burned his sensitive little skin on his head. It broke my heart – and after all that all they could tell me was that his brain was very chaotic and he was having frequent seizure activity.

But he was able to eat well for me, so after a total of nearly 2 weeks in the NICU, they allowed us to take Gavin home with lots of follow up.  It was such a neat feeling to finally have our baby home with us, even if it was on lots of meds, and even if we were worried about his future.

The day after I brought him home – I started noticing odd activity. He would wake up and do this repetitive cry over and over and kind of bring his hands in and legs up over and over along with it.  He would also do this odd staring off to the side thing, and it was obvious he couldn’t control it. The peditrician said to watch it closely and contact neurology if it got worse .. well it didn’t take long for it to get much worse, with the episodes lasting longer and longer – he would be so tired after one that he would sleep for hours, and he was not eating as much as he was supposed to. Forget trying to nurse, just getting him to take my milk in a bottle was a challenge.

So at a followup appointment, the Dr’s suggested he be admitted back into the hospital – this time Children’s Hospital NICU to try and figure out his seizures, get him eating better, etc.  He was having near constant seizures anytime he was awake, they would make him so frustrated and he would scream and cry like he was being shocked over and over again.

I stayed with Gavin everytime the NICU was open. I was there holding him, watching over him. I would drop Alex off at school, go straight to the NICU, stay until pickup time (which was also when they closed for shift change) go back and meet my husband up there in the evening, then stay until shift change again at night.  Repeat the next day.  Gavin loved to be held and rocked by me. He loved hearing me talk to him, hold him. I loved that this sweet angel was at least comforted by his Mom .. and when I went home at night to sleep without him, I felt like a huge piece of me was missiing. All I could think about was getting back to him the next morning.

Gavin had another EEG that was hugely abnormal, an MRI that showed lissencephaly, retina damage – more tests, another spinal and still no clue what caused this. Most dr’s still said infection, some were guessing something genetic, although most tests had come back negative. Tests were sent off to speciality labs across the country – some of which we are still waiting on to come back.  Gavin’s seizures were diagnosed as Infantile Spasms which is one of the most devastating types of seizures – treatment required a 12 week process of injecting him with a NASTY drug called ACTH, a very strong steriod and that still only had about a 50% chance of stopping them, yet had horrible side effects. Plus it was EXPENSIVE – nearly $30,000 a vile and his treatment would require 3 viles … thank goodness our insurance covered the drug. Still, the seizures were so bad, it was worth the risk. They had him on 3 different seizure meds, plus the ACTH – I learned how to inject him and once he was eating well again, they sent us home.

Once home, it was hard. Gavin was having seizures almost anytime he was awake. His quality of life was terrible. The ACTH make him put on a ton of weight, made him feel terrible and our super sweet baby turned into a grumpy guy that fussed non-stop. If he wasn’t fussing, he was having a seizure. They started getting really bad – he would have hour long episodes that broke my heart. I would rock him, hold him and cry – no parent should have to watch their baby suffer like that.

Here is a picture of Gavin when he was home for a bit – he was home long enough to watch the Iron Bowl with family and friends…

They got so bad, after being home for about 2 weeks, I had him admitted back into Children’s to try and get the seizures under control.  But within a day or two of being there, he started having great trouble breathing, then started putting on tons of fluid and everything went out of whack. They could not figure out what exactly was wrong with him – his thyroid was abnormal, he was not making billrubin like he should and he was not getting rid of fluid in his body. He puffed up to a huge size and no amount of lassix would take the fluid off of him. He was on full oxygen and they said he might have to be put on cpap or ventalation.

This is when my husband and I had to make the hardest decision of our lives. We looked at Gavin’s quality of life – what it had been so far, and what the future held for him. And we made the difficult choice to NOT extend his life if it was his time to go. We brought in palliative care, and they helped us make Gavin comfortable with morphine and drugs to help him sleep so he would not be having constant seizures. His breathing was getting worse, and the dr’s told us that is what would take him if we chose not to ventilate.  They also said chances were if he went on a vent, he would not come back off.

Here is Gavin with Jeremy – swollen and so uncomfortable .. this picture really speaks to me. You can see the pain on Jeremy’s face. No parent should have to watch their child suffer like that.

We chose to move to a room where we could be with him 24/7 – we moved into the private room on a Friday and he died in our arms on Sunday morning – December 19, 2010. He was comfortable, and while my husband and I held him and cried, we told him it was ok to go. That he would be in heaven, whole, healthy and seizure free. We sobbed and held eachother while he watched Gavin take his last breaths. I can’t describe the pain … even though we knew we were doing the right thing for Gavin, for our own selfish reasons, it was so so hard.

Leaving the hospital is a blur – but I clearly remember the pain of leaving with one of those Children’s Hospital wagons full of his things .. but no child. He had just died in our arms hours before. Jeremy and I came home – our entire family was there in the living room. But we just went to bed, laid down, held onto each other and cried for what seemed like hours.

Gavin’s funeral was December 23, 2010 … the outpouring of love and support from family and friends was amazing. It still brings me to tears thinking of how many people dropped all of their plans, just before Christmas – to be there for us.

So that’s our story .. sad, I know. But we are here, we are still alive .. and yes, we have happy days. Gavin will forever be such a HUGE part of us. Jeremy, Alex and I are forever changed by what we have been through .. but it has not defeated us.

I will share another time an intimate blog I wrote about healing.

So if you made it through our story, thank you. Now you can understand why I’m trying to NOT be a neurotic wreck .. but sitting here staring at a very positive pregnancy test has my mind spinning.

Look forward to sharing this journey with you – our journey to a rainbow baby after loss. Thank you for joining me.