Chris and I met at the perinatologist's office yesterday. I was terrified; he looked pale and frightened. We compared stories of our drives over--we both felt like we could pass out at any moment. The anxiety level was sky high. It didn't help that the perinatologist's office is INSIDE the hospital where Addison was born.
After a 45-minute wait, it was our turn. I recognized the tech from our appointments when I was pregnant with Addison and we started chatting. She started to remember us as well. The doctor certainly acted as if he knew who we were. He was kind, compassionate, and at the end of the appointment told me to call him anytime. And I believed he meant it.
But what I really want to write about is the total and utter RELIEF that I now feel. What an emotionally exhausting visit! The nuchal translucency result looked good--likely no Down's. Anatomically, the doctor said everything looked normal. The blood results for other issues will be back in a week or so. The subchorionic hemorrhage was obviously still there, big, looming, scary...but he seemed certain it would resolve with time. And he got the money shot. He thinks we're having a boy. We are thrilled. We know that nothing is 100%, nothing is totally certain, I will never feel completely confident that we're brining home a healthy child in March. But I am ready to feel cautiously optimistic. I'm ready to HOPE. And for me, that's a really big deal.
PS: Thank you all for your loving, supportive comments. It really touches me to know that you are there are rooting for me.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
White Knuckling
I feel like I'm hanging on by a thread. I don't know exactly how far along I am (about 12 1/2 weeks) probably because I'm too scared to get attached to this baby. Frankly, I don't know if it's alive or dead right now. But I'll find out in just about exactly 12 hours. I will see the perinatologist tomorrow. Finally. And then I will see if there is still a heartbeat. I will also see if one of my scariest thoughts has become reality (some terrible genetic fuckup with the baby). VERY secondarily, we may find out if this is a girl or a boy. But, really, I can't even get that far in my head because I don't know if we will even see a live fetus. I have absolutely no instinct about this baby; my instinct has failed me in the past, anyway, so why would I trust anything I feel? I had another pretty decent bleed a few days ago, and I've been spotting very dark blood nearly every day for a week. I just don't feel good about it. I'm nervous. Okay, I'm downright terrified. And so I wait, but not much longer. I hope I can sleep tonight.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Life or Death? Please let it live.
We were at Disney World in Florida for Labor Day weekend. Calvin is 4, and just barely over 40 inches tall, so he was able to ride a lot of the fun rides.
Sunday morning when I wiped there was a tinge of brownish blood. I thought...well, here we go. Either I'm going to lose this baby or not. No more blood the whole day. We enjoyed ourselves at Magic Kingdom and tried not to think about what might happen.
I've actually never had bleeding or spotting during a pregnancy. None with Calvin or Addison; none when I had a missed miscarriage in 2008 at about week 10. They just found there was no heartbeat during a routine check-up. But I know it's not a great sign, even if it's not always prelude to disaster.
Today we were scheduled to fly back home to Georgia at 6:30pm. I woke up around 8am and felt a small gush; I thought maybe I had peed myself. In the bathroom I ended up bleeding quite a bit of red blood. I inspected it and saw a few small clots. It's pretty much the last thing I wanted to see. My intuition failing me, all I could rely on was my instinct to get home so I could get to a hospital. Unfortunately, Labor Day is not the day to get a flight easily changed. So we were stuck.
We decided to go to a hospital to get checked. After nearly 4 hours, we got an answer. It's a subchorionic hemorrhage measuring 4.2 x 3.7 x 2.5cm. The good news is that the baby is alive and measuring right on target - 10 wks 6 days. I was told I could travel home (and we just made it back) but was instructed not to carry anything heavier than my purse. Of course I had been schlepping Calvin around all weekend when he got tired of walking.
The bad news is the unknown. At this point, it can go either way. Either this baby will make it, or it won't. And even within that simplistic-sounding statement, there are so many either/or scenarios. My big fear is the genetic fuckup. Either there will be one or there won't. I'm not "allowed" to talk about fear and anxiety to many people in my real world. They don't want to hear it, and make me feel as if I am creating my own destiny by fearing the worst. If I had that much control over my world, Addison would be alive and healthy and I wouldn't have to be going through another fucking pregnancy right now.
So I'll see my doctor tomorrow. I'll call when his crappy-office-hours office opens at 9am. I literally have 3 days available to take off from work for the rest of the year. I don't even care. Sometimes life takes a priority to work. And this is one of those times.
It's hard to let myself feel all these feelings, so I'm not. Not yet. I fear I will have a literal nervous breakdown if I lose this baby. I just don't want to lose it. I just can't go through it. I don't want to have to explain to Calvin why another baby died, when we just had the guts to tell him there is another baby in my tummy. I don't want to waste more time on pregnancies that don't equal babies. Damnit, I want this baby to live and thrive and grow and be born healthy. Hey, Universe, is that too much to ask for?
Perhaps.
Sunday morning when I wiped there was a tinge of brownish blood. I thought...well, here we go. Either I'm going to lose this baby or not. No more blood the whole day. We enjoyed ourselves at Magic Kingdom and tried not to think about what might happen.
I've actually never had bleeding or spotting during a pregnancy. None with Calvin or Addison; none when I had a missed miscarriage in 2008 at about week 10. They just found there was no heartbeat during a routine check-up. But I know it's not a great sign, even if it's not always prelude to disaster.
Today we were scheduled to fly back home to Georgia at 6:30pm. I woke up around 8am and felt a small gush; I thought maybe I had peed myself. In the bathroom I ended up bleeding quite a bit of red blood. I inspected it and saw a few small clots. It's pretty much the last thing I wanted to see. My intuition failing me, all I could rely on was my instinct to get home so I could get to a hospital. Unfortunately, Labor Day is not the day to get a flight easily changed. So we were stuck.
We decided to go to a hospital to get checked. After nearly 4 hours, we got an answer. It's a subchorionic hemorrhage measuring 4.2 x 3.7 x 2.5cm. The good news is that the baby is alive and measuring right on target - 10 wks 6 days. I was told I could travel home (and we just made it back) but was instructed not to carry anything heavier than my purse. Of course I had been schlepping Calvin around all weekend when he got tired of walking.
The bad news is the unknown. At this point, it can go either way. Either this baby will make it, or it won't. And even within that simplistic-sounding statement, there are so many either/or scenarios. My big fear is the genetic fuckup. Either there will be one or there won't. I'm not "allowed" to talk about fear and anxiety to many people in my real world. They don't want to hear it, and make me feel as if I am creating my own destiny by fearing the worst. If I had that much control over my world, Addison would be alive and healthy and I wouldn't have to be going through another fucking pregnancy right now.
So I'll see my doctor tomorrow. I'll call when his crappy-office-hours office opens at 9am. I literally have 3 days available to take off from work for the rest of the year. I don't even care. Sometimes life takes a priority to work. And this is one of those times.
It's hard to let myself feel all these feelings, so I'm not. Not yet. I fear I will have a literal nervous breakdown if I lose this baby. I just don't want to lose it. I just can't go through it. I don't want to have to explain to Calvin why another baby died, when we just had the guts to tell him there is another baby in my tummy. I don't want to waste more time on pregnancies that don't equal babies. Damnit, I want this baby to live and thrive and grow and be born healthy. Hey, Universe, is that too much to ask for?
Perhaps.
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