I've said the phrase above hundreds of times as a hyperbole regarding days that just stunk. Today's tale is about the literal worst day of my life so, it's pretty heavy subject matter.
The day was about one week after we found out that one of our twins (our son) was going to be born with a cleft lip. We had received that news at the 20 week ultrasound and handled it really well (in my humble opinion). We knew it was something that wasn't life threatening and was fixable, so while we may have had some worry, overall we were ok with this surprise.
We were referred to a Neonatologist and made an appointment to meet with him. On that day, we did an ultra sound and got all the regular stats from the babies. The doctor came in after he got the ultra sound report to chat with us. I don't recall the exact conversation leading up to the moment that made this the worst day of my life, but I'll do my best to recreate it.
The doctor mentioned that we were there to see him so that he could keep a close eye on our little guy. He mentioned that sometimes a cleft lip is an isolated birth defect but that other times it occurs as a result of a larger problem- a chromosomal abnormality. I asked what that meant. He continued and explained that a chromosomal abnormality meant that there were 3 of one chromosome instead of 2. Trisomy 21, for example, is more commonly known as Down Syndrome. But then there was also the possibility of Trisomy 13;a condition that most often results in a baby's "failure to thrive"... by this he meant failing to live.
I asked "how many fail to thrive?"
Reply: All of them...
At that moment I remember that the ultrasound image was still on the tv screen. I looked at the little being that was my son and all of a sudden I felt terrified that I would lose him.
As the doctor passed me a tissue, he let us know that we could find out for sure if our son had one of these conditions by doing an amnio centisis which he could do right then and there if we chose to do so.
We asked for some time to discuss and as soon as the door closed I crumpled onto my husband and sobbed. The possibility of losing our son, our little baby, who we had wanted for so long was too much. But that wasn't the only thing. I had a recollection of an experience that I'd had long ago. One that I had forgotten over the years of our trying to get pregnant, but in this moment it sprung to mind and took my breath away. I had to tell Nathan... had to tell him that this situation may be my fault.
Years before, as I was praying one night I prayed that we would PLEASE get pregnant. Even if it was a baby,whose time on Earth were to be short, I would accept that and just be grateful for the chance to be a mom.
Is this what was happening now? Did our son have this condition? This death sentence? There was only one way to find out and so we went ahead and did the amnio.
The ensuing week was torture as we waited to hear back. We wondered what we would do if he did have Trisomy 13. We prayed for everything to turn out to be fine but IF NOT and our son did have a condition could it please be Trisomy 21?
After what seemed like an eternity (just over a week) we got the good news that the cleft was an isolated condition, unattached to more serious circumstances. We celebrated- by finally- BREATHING.
*Note: After proofreading this I realize there are still a lot of missing details but I suppose I cannot really go back to the place I was in just yet. Maybe one day I'll feel the need to flesh out a few more details, but at this time, I think that's as much as I need to say. :)
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
I'm what???
Getting pregnant didn't just happen for Nathan and I, though we tried our darndest (wink,wink)... gross. Sorry for all that information. Hahaha.
Anyway that whole journey took us down many paths. Adoption (which we did not go through with), fertility doctor, hormone specialist, voodoo doctor as I lovingly refer to her as and eventually back to a fertility doctor, (though different from the first one).
Once we arrived at that last fertility doctor that was a process as well. Eventually we arrived at in-vitro. That whole saga would best be left to its own post. At any rate, we were able to implant 2 embryos. After doing so I had a reaction called Ovarian Hyper-Stimulation Syndrome. It was a severe enough case that I wound up in the hospital on 2 separate occasions. The second stay was about a week long.
The thing about going through the in vitro process is that everything is very scheduled and very calculated. From the time you give yourself shots, egg retrieval, implantation, pregnancy test... it is all planned out. I had given up my idea of surprising Nathan with the news we were pregnant. Back in the early days, I imagined him coming home and somehow cleverly revealing to him that he was going to be a dad.
After having given up several notions of how things are "supposed to be" (or not supposed to be) throughout this time in my life, I was blessed to have the ability to still surprise my husband with this news. A little "tender mercy" if you will.
My doctor came to check on me throughout my stay in the hospital. During my second stay he increasingly came to suspect that I was pregnant. I of course held that hope at bay. A coping mechanism to be sure. The fact that my OHSS had not abated was the first clue he had. But on top of that, there were occasions when he came that I was eating only pickles. :)
Now, according to the calendar, I was to have the pregnancy test on a Friday. Exactly two weeks after implanting the embryos. My doctor though, being highly suspicious of a positive result, asked me if I would like to bump up that test by a day. I of course said that I would and he put in the order for the blood work for Thursday morning.
I didn't tell Nathan about the change in plans.
During my week in the hospital I became accustomed to the morning lab work and eventually just slept through it. Not Thursday morning though. I was excited and nervous. Hopeful yet scared. How many countless tests had I taken in the years leading up to this day that all had said "NOPE! Not this month lady"? I'm not sure how I endured the hours until my doctor came in. I think I was on the phone with someone so I had to quickly hang up.
Doctor K:"I got the results from your test and YOU'RE PREGNANT"
Me: (immediately crying) I'm what?!
We continued to talk and celebrate. After he left I wanted to jump out of my skin. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops or at the very least call up my honey at work and tell him. I calmed myself down though and decided that after waiting several years, I could wait until he came to the hospital after work.
Easier said than done. I believe I called my husband asking if he could come over early. I made up a bogus story about having a rough day. He said he'd try his best but most likely he couldn't leave the office until 5. That was 5 hours away at that point.
By the time he walked in to my hospital room at 6:00 (traffic had been awful) he had about a minute to say hello and then needed to be on a conference call. That call lasted an hour. Probably the longest hour of my life. Finally(FINALLY!!) the call ended. It was time to tell him.
He asked how my day was. I said I think I needed a hug.
He hugged me.
I asked him if it felt different. He asked "if what feels different?"
"Hugging a pregnant lady" I replied. He asked if I was serious. I assured him I was.
We laughed and cried and hugged and cried. And then we began making some phone calls.
Anyway that whole journey took us down many paths. Adoption (which we did not go through with), fertility doctor, hormone specialist, voodoo doctor as I lovingly refer to her as and eventually back to a fertility doctor, (though different from the first one).
Once we arrived at that last fertility doctor that was a process as well. Eventually we arrived at in-vitro. That whole saga would best be left to its own post. At any rate, we were able to implant 2 embryos. After doing so I had a reaction called Ovarian Hyper-Stimulation Syndrome. It was a severe enough case that I wound up in the hospital on 2 separate occasions. The second stay was about a week long.
The thing about going through the in vitro process is that everything is very scheduled and very calculated. From the time you give yourself shots, egg retrieval, implantation, pregnancy test... it is all planned out. I had given up my idea of surprising Nathan with the news we were pregnant. Back in the early days, I imagined him coming home and somehow cleverly revealing to him that he was going to be a dad.
After having given up several notions of how things are "supposed to be" (or not supposed to be) throughout this time in my life, I was blessed to have the ability to still surprise my husband with this news. A little "tender mercy" if you will.
My doctor came to check on me throughout my stay in the hospital. During my second stay he increasingly came to suspect that I was pregnant. I of course held that hope at bay. A coping mechanism to be sure. The fact that my OHSS had not abated was the first clue he had. But on top of that, there were occasions when he came that I was eating only pickles. :)
Now, according to the calendar, I was to have the pregnancy test on a Friday. Exactly two weeks after implanting the embryos. My doctor though, being highly suspicious of a positive result, asked me if I would like to bump up that test by a day. I of course said that I would and he put in the order for the blood work for Thursday morning.
I didn't tell Nathan about the change in plans.
During my week in the hospital I became accustomed to the morning lab work and eventually just slept through it. Not Thursday morning though. I was excited and nervous. Hopeful yet scared. How many countless tests had I taken in the years leading up to this day that all had said "NOPE! Not this month lady"? I'm not sure how I endured the hours until my doctor came in. I think I was on the phone with someone so I had to quickly hang up.
Doctor K:"I got the results from your test and YOU'RE PREGNANT"
Me: (immediately crying) I'm what?!
We continued to talk and celebrate. After he left I wanted to jump out of my skin. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops or at the very least call up my honey at work and tell him. I calmed myself down though and decided that after waiting several years, I could wait until he came to the hospital after work.
Easier said than done. I believe I called my husband asking if he could come over early. I made up a bogus story about having a rough day. He said he'd try his best but most likely he couldn't leave the office until 5. That was 5 hours away at that point.
By the time he walked in to my hospital room at 6:00 (traffic had been awful) he had about a minute to say hello and then needed to be on a conference call. That call lasted an hour. Probably the longest hour of my life. Finally(FINALLY!!) the call ended. It was time to tell him.
He asked how my day was. I said I think I needed a hug.
He hugged me.
I asked him if it felt different. He asked "if what feels different?"
"Hugging a pregnant lady" I replied. He asked if I was serious. I assured him I was.
We laughed and cried and hugged and cried. And then we began making some phone calls.
Re-Dedicated
How I wish that I had been a better journal writer in the time leading up to and since the birth of my twins. I have thought about this quite a bit over the last year or so. I kept going back and forth about which venue I wanted to use as a journal. (pen/paper, blog, private diary website, etc).
In the end the blog won. I find it easier to just open up my computer and type away instead of spending a long time hand writing my entries. I also feel accountable to the blog in some way. Perhaps the thought of an audience. Whatever it is, I'm back.
In the end the blog won. I find it easier to just open up my computer and type away instead of spending a long time hand writing my entries. I also feel accountable to the blog in some way. Perhaps the thought of an audience. Whatever it is, I'm back.
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