Friday, February 22, 2019

February...

My last post was October, the month the bitties were born.  Now, here I sit, February 22nd.  The day before Chandler & Paisley's due date, and, ironically, the due date I first calculated when I found out I had a spontaneous pregnancy in May.  Of course it was, right?  As if the universe couldn't leave well enough alone and let Chandler and Paisley have their own date...

The hurt is still here.  It's raw, but numb all at the same time.  Kanon and Remi, of course, bring such sunshine to all my days, but at the same time, I can't help but feel such a large piece of my family is just missing.  They should have an older brother and sister, just like them, but a few years older. 

The things I struggled with in the beginning, I still struggle with.  There is not a single time I can say, God is good, there just isn't.  Sure, God gave us Kanon and Remi after letting us lose Chandler and Paisley, but, if God was good, why would I have lost Chandler and Paisley in the first place? 

I know in my head, bad things happen to good people.  Awful, terrible, heartbreaking things happen to good people.  I know that in my head, but my heart still can't let this go.

I've not finished my miscarriage story, but there is more to it, and that has brought me down so much.  It has honestly scared me and broken me.

Speaking of that, finally, just 2 weeks ago, I had my last labs following the partial molar pregnancy.  Those odds I was sure I'd defy just months ago, I didn't, surprisingly.  So yay for that...

I'm in a funk, and I just can't come out of it.  It's probably February.  It's probably the fact that I should be planning Chandler and Paisley's 4th birthdays and preparing them for pre-k.  But I'm not.  Instead, I realize I need to get new flowers for their headstone.

Thursday, October 18, 2018

October

I’m taking a break from my miscarriage story for a couple of reasons.  One, I’m at the point where it really gets difficult to process and think about, and two, it is October.

My heart is heavy.  It is amazing how the body, even without the mind processing the thoughts, knows when a certain date is approaching.  October 1 rolled around and my facebook feed was filled with posts of people professing their love and gratitude for October.  And at each and every post, I cringed. 
October makes my heart hurt.  October is the month our precious Chandler and Paisley were born, months too soon, and passed away.  October also happens to be the month recognized and pregnancy and infant loss awareness month.  October 15 is the day that the international wave of light is recognized, where, at 7pm, a candle is lit for babies lost too soon, in each time zone, so that there is a continuous light shone around the clock. 

Honestly, I hate October.  I feel myself slipping into a depression and each day at work, I just want to leave and go home, shower, and curl up in my bed and watch Grey’s Anatomy.  Other days, I just want to leave and go get my babies and hug them and never let them go, and thank God that I have their beautiful, amazing soles here with me, with their daddy, to keep us moving forward each day. 
I still miss Chandler and Paisley tremendously.  I can’t believe it has been four years.  I look back at timehop and I see the innocent posts I made in the first few weeks of October, and I just think, if I had only known.  But of course, I had no idea.  The guilt floods me.  As a mother, I feel like I should have known.  I should have done more.  I should not have let my babies die.  I failed them. 

I hate October.

Wednesday, September 12, 2018

Miscarriage Aftermath Part 1

I have no idea the statistics, but I would say nearly all miscarriages happen, and that's the end.  The chapter on the miscarriage closes, and people begin to heal and move on to next steps.

Unless...you find out your tissue pathology results indicate a partial molar pregnancy...

A what?  Partial what?

Yeah, that was my thought too.

I had my D&C on the 26th of July, and the next week, my hubby and I took the week off and had a staycation filled with all sorts of fun things with the babies.  It was a great week.  The miscarriage was in the back of our minds the whole time, but we were doing good with it.

And then my phone rang on Friday, August 3rd at 8:15.  I didn't recognize the number, but thought it may be a client, so I answered.  And on the other end, I hear, "Michelle?  This is Dr. Hix."  And I jumped out of bed (we had been laying in bed with the babies watching tv), and moved to the kitchen where I could take notes and listen better, because I knew instantly something was wrong.  The only other time a doctor has actually called me (and not the nurse) was when Dr. Hix's wife called me after my HSG test to ask me how I was feeling and to discuss the results of the test.  It just doesn't happen.  Honestly, my first thought was cervical cancer, that's just where my mind went.  But it wasn't that. 

Instead, what my doctor told me was the pathology results from the tissue came back, and the cells that were present indicated a partial molar pregnancy.  My doctor told me the types of cells that were found, but I just can't remember what they were, and I couldn't spell it! 

My doctor then went on to say there is risk that the cells could begin to regenerate and could come back somewhere in my body and I would need chemotherapy! 

Chemotherapy?  What?

Of course, that is rare, but honestly, give me rare odds and I swear to you, I will beat them. 

So, the course of treatment is to monitor my hcg levels weekly, until they return to negative, and then follow my hgc levels for 6 months. 

No getting pregnant for 6 months. 

*crushed*

Every dream I had of being fertile following the D&C and getting pregnant again without medical intervention, crushed.  It died right there, on the phone with my doctor.  My heart broke again. 

My doctor doesn't truly think it was a partial molar pregnancy because I had zero other symptoms of it (extremely high HCG levels, extreme morning sickness), but because it is so easy to treat in case the cells do return, my doctor doesn't want to risk it.  Which I appreciate.  And apparently those cells being present would not indicate anything else except this, so, it just makes sense.  

I just couldn't even believe it.  Of all things.  I can't even have a normal miscarriage. 

Tuesday, August 28, 2018

Knew it was going to end...

To continue from last post...

From my lab results, there was zero indication anything would be wrong with this pregnancy.  My HCG level was 1,950 at about 2.5 weeks post ovulation (we aren't exactly sure when I ovulated), and my progesterone was 18.  That was a little on the lower end, but not concerning, so my doctor prescribed progesterone for me to use vaginally. 

On July 9th, Dusty and I went in for my first ultrasound.  I should have been about 7 1/2 weeks along.  My doctor started the ultrasound and I remembered instantly being a little worried about what I saw on the screen, but then again, we were using an older ultrasound with the little grainy screen, and not the better quality one, so I let it go.  The doctor measured the baby, and the baby was only measuring 6 weeks and 1 day, and I knew instantly something was wrong.  I expected it to be a few days off, and had even told Dusty to not be surprised if it measured a few days behind what they would initially estimate based on my last period, since I figured they would use an average cycle length of 28 days, when mine was more like 31, but I knew over a week off was not good at all.

However; my doctor did his best to reassure me, and tell me it was fine.  We did see a heartbeat, after all, so that was a good sign, and my cycles are crazy and we didn't know when I ovulated, so he said he wasn't worried, and I shouldn't either.  Easier said than done, right?

So, we went back on July 17th.  This time, the u/s was done in the room with the better quality u/s machine, and I knew instantly the baby hadn't grown.  The tech had a hard time getting a heartbeat, and wasn't able to play it, only measure it.  The heartbeat was low, in the 70s, and the baby had not grown at all. 

I instantly started crying.  I had been prepared for this, but had hoped for better news.  Instead, we were faced with this miracle pregnancy that was just going to end in a miscarriage.  Why?  Why give us this, only to rip it away?

I met with my doctor, who knew I didn't want to be there and there was nothing to say.  Unfortunately, I was in a waiting game, where we just had to go back in a week, and see if the heart stopped, and then discuss options at that point.

So that's what we did.  We went back on the 23rd.  There was no heartbeat.  Instead, there was a sac, and a spot where the baby had been, and an SCH, which I have to wonder if played a role in the miscarriage.  I met with my doctor to discuss options.  We discussed taking the medication to cause my body to expel it (cytotec), a D&C, or letting my body see if it would miscarry on its own. 

A dear friend of mine had recently gone through a miscarriage after an FET, and started off with the cytotec, had an awful experience, and ended up having an emergency D&C, so really, that was off the table for me.  I didn't want to spend hours cramping and watching my body expel the dreams that had died inside of me.  We opted for the D&C, which I had the following Thursday, July 26th. 

The D&C was typical.  No major complications.  My cervix wouldn't stop bleeding so my doctor had to put a stitch in my cervix, but nothing major.  And really, the recovery was much easier than I thought it would be with very little cramping at all.

I didn't really cry after that 2nd u/s.  I felt empty.  Looking back, I think I know when the baby's heartbeat stopped.  On Saturday the 21st, I began to feel incredibly empty.  I felt dead inside.  I'm sure that was when my baby's heart stopped beating.  It's an eerie feeling, to know you had a life inside of you, but then, it stopped, and you can almost feel it leave your body. 

I think I've felt dead inside ever since.