Sad Post

This is sad post. It may also have too much information about girly stuff or girly areas. If that isn't really your cup of tea, skip this one. It is more of a post for me and for my family to see and read later as part of our family history.

January 15th-We were really looking forward to having some great news for everybody. I was going in for an ultrasound (finally). I was a little more than 9 weeks along. I was nervous because you're always nervous and I was trying not to over think it even though I had two miscarriages in between Chloe and Tats. It was Dr. King's birthday and I was going to the doctor so I thought maybe that was a good omen. And maybe it would've been a good omen had I been carrying a black child. But I digress. Obviously you should be able to see where this is going, they were unable to find a heart beat on our baby. Just like that our happy news day turned into our sad news day. Also, I just happened to have the world's most retarded ultrasound lady in the history of the world. Let me just relive some of the drama:

• They called to tell me that I absolutely HAD to drink a liter of water before my appt. They also told me to show up early. Well, I'm a pretty obedient person (especially medically) so I listened. I was nervous because I had been peeing all the time anyway and thought an extra liter to hold in would probably be an issue.
• We were driving to a far away city because if I got an ultrasound somewhere closer, I would still have had to wait another week. We figured the peace of mind would be worth the drive. Too bad, google maps over simplified our directions and we overshot our city simply by missing one dumb street. So I did what anybody about to pee their pants would do, I stopped at a nasty gas station and I peed.
  
• When we got to the lab, they made us wait for almost an hour. I was so mad and I had to pee so badly. They finally told me that I could pee but to only empty "half" my bladder. Yeah, that's something super easy to do. I did that twice. So if I emptied half of it and then another half of it, it should've been empty, right?
  
• When I finally got called into the ultrasound they didn't let Greg come with me. They made him wait out in the waiting room for almost 1/2 hr., to which he said to me later he kind of figured something was up.
• I commented to the ultrasound lady that holding your pee was like torture to which she responded, "Well, you won't get any sympathy from me!" I remember thinking in that moment that I hoped that would be all the sympathy I'd be needing that day--especially from her. Then we played this really fun game of "your bladder is too full to see anything" and she sent me to the bathroom like 3 times to empty more and more of my bladder. You guys are the retards who told me to drink a liter! I have a nalgene--it is all measured!
• After a few minutes she still was mute so I said, "Are you allowed to say anything about what you're seeing?" To which she says, "It doesn't look good. No heart beat." Just like that. So I'm tearing up and she goes, "We need to get a better view inside so let's switch to the other ultrasound machine." (You know which one I'm talking about, right?--the inside one). When I asked if Greg could now come in at this point she still said no. So we switch to the other machine and after this fun game of her coming in/going out so I could put on/take off my clothes to take a look and her telling me I needed to pee some more like 3 more times (the bathroom was down the hall), we finally get the second show on the road. She's moving it all around but she is still mute. I figure that is a bad sign so I ask her, "Can you tell when things..." and she said, "I'm measuring 7.5 weeks right now." And that was that. After a few minutes she asked me if we had any children and I said that we had two. She goes, "Well, then." I was so bugged at this lady I probably could've fought her except that she had a camera up my hoo-haw and I was really in no state to fight anybody. Then she tells me she'll get the doctor and my husband.
• The doctor was not a doctor, he was a radiologist. No offense radiologists but I wanted a real doctor there. He was really nice but he didn't quite know what to say. He said if things didn't start "happening" w/i a week to see my doctor (which p.s. we can't find anybody to be our stinky doctor so I have to go to this like urgent care clinic everytime I want to see a doctor!)
• Maybe it is weird but I asked for a picture. I didn't get a picture of the other two and it has always been something I've regretted. It just makes it real. This did happen and I want to remember. So here is our baby.

• For a while afterward, I was convinced that they made some sort of mistake. I mean she was a dorky ultrasound technician. He wasn't a "real" doctor. Maybe the heart could start beating later. I even found some message boards of ladies who were as far along pregnant as me and had the heart start later. It was getting my hopes up. Or else I was in denial. I bet websites have stories of every kind out there if you're looking.
  
• Luckily a friend of mine told me about this place called, the "Early Pregnancy Loss Clinic" so I called them. They more than made up for retarda technician and awk "doctor" and even though they were supposed to have a referral from my family doctor, they said they'd see me anyway. They were also able to give me more answers about my ultrasound. (They could pull up the results on the health care computer system--that was pretty cool.) Taffy, my nurse, read the report straight to me and then put it into real people language. She didn't have to do that. But she knew that was what I needed to hear. According to the ultrasound, the baby had already started to pull away from the placenta and there wasn't a lot of fluid inside the amniotic sac. So even if the baby were still alive (which I guess technically wasn't impossible but just super unlikely), there would be no way it would've made it all the way to the end. Once she told me all that, I guess it really hit me and then I was able to process it all. Why didn't I get all that info before?! They gave me 3 options, to 1) Let things just happen, 2) Take some medicine and start the process of cleaning my body out, or 3) Have a doctor go in and clean everything out (D and C). Since I wasn't super far along to them they suggested I do #2 because you never know how long #1 could take--possibly weeks. But after 2 days and 2 doses of the freaky drugs, nothing happened so they finally said I should probably do #3.

January 20th-#3 isn't really that bad but unfortunately with my "free" health care I had to wait there all day until they could fit me into the busy hospital schedule. We were so grateful that we have friends to watch our kids all day.

Miscarriages are very common. One in four. It sucks and obviously we're sad and obviously we're disappointed. Being pregnant is scary and of course there are so many things that are not fun about being pregnant especially since I was super sick. And even though to all the doctors I wasn't that far along, to me I was and I had already invested a lot of time, sickness, dreaming and planning into it. Also this is my third one. We had two miscarriages in between our two kids. Each time around the same time between 8-10 weeks. Medically they really only start to worry after it has been three in a row and generally that is when you don't have any other kids. The fact that we have two is a great sign. Anyway, after 3 they start to do genetic testing on you and your spouse and see if there are any problems that stand out. Geez, how would you feel if you found out you and your spouse weren't chromosomially compatible? The doctor that did my most recent stuff seemed really nice and I'll have a follow up with him in a few weeks. He seemed optimistic that we'd figure out some sort of reason as to why this happened. I like that prospect but also I'm ok if they don't. I don't know if this is how it works in the grand scheme of things, but for me I like to think of the 3 other people who don't have a miscarriage because I did. Right now my sister and two of my sister-in-laws are pregnant. It makes me feel more happy and excited for them like they and their babies are safer because I had a miscarriage and I can be their 1 of 4. Also, no matter how sad it is, there is always somebody with a worse story to remind you of your blessings or snap you out of "woe is me" mode. It is crazy to think that I would be pregnant with my 5th child right now though living in a 2 bedroom apartment with my husband still in school. Eek.

We've been overwhelmed by the great support, help and love from friends and family. It has been so nice to know that people are here for us to bring us a meal, a treat or play with our kids. I'm completely humbled by all of that. I'm also super grateful to know that there is a greater spiritual purpose for everything that happens to us. But recently, I've had two things really help me this week and neither one of them is all the comfort eating I've been doing. As soon as all the junk food is gone I'm sure I'll be able to really move on. I've got to let myself wallow a tiny bit, right?

Help #1: We live next to this old guy named Charlie and since I'd been hibernating and not seen him for a while I decided to go visit and see how he was doing. He's 90 and lives alone. All his family has died. Greg was home and the girls were resting so I figured it was a good time. I just sort of went over with no plan in mind of what I was going to say and he invited me in to sit down. I gotta say, I love old people. He was telling me about his health and the problems with his eyes and his vision and after a while I told him our news. He was so saddened and then started to tell me about his son. He and his wife Lulabelle (who died like 20 years ago--he has a framed 8x10 picture of her on his dining room table. Love her name!) had one son after having two daughters. Charlie said he was a "dandy". They were so excited to have a son after having two girls. He left his wife to go home after visiting and when he came back the next day, the doctors told him that his son had died of SIDS. One of my good friends had her son die from SIDS also. It is just such a sad thing. I asked him how he got over it. Charlie said, "Well, you just get up in the morning and just go until you make it to the end of the day." That's how I feel some mornings like just get up and get through the day and then other mornings I wake up and I'm thinking about breakfast or how I'm going to do the girls' hair that day. That is more the normal me.

Help #2-Remember Maggie, the Magpie? I said I had been hibernating and that is true. I hate being freezing cold. I hate the tons of layers of clothes on and off and the melting, dripping snow on the shoes. Well most birds would be leaving, Maggie has stayed around. She sorta jumps up the tree while flapping her bufanged wings. Well, we were eating lunch the other day and I saw a magpie fly up to the top of the building in front of us. It caught my eye because as it landed, it was sorta hobbling. I realized it was Maggie. She was flying! I mean it was a high building. I called the girls' attention to it and we were all just so happy. It seemed like such a wonderful nature triumph story. Maggie is some bird. I bet some birds would have just given up by now. I mean her wing was thrashed, I'm pretty sure her babies all died seeing as we saw her build the nest and never heard any chirps and hello, she's living in the freaking north pole here. There can't be good vittles to eat when there is a foot and a half of packed snow on the ground. Well on Friday, I sat on the couch and just watched Maggie outside by the tree looking for food. She just hopped around, digging her beak into the ground and by golly I even saw her munching on something. One could say that we just happened to get the apartment that is right in front of Maggie's tree or that we just happened to notice the bird living in that tree but I can't help but feel like Maggie is a part of our lives for a reason. Is it strange that this bird inspires me to live a better life?

I don't expect anybody to leave a comment unless you want to. You never really know what to say. I don't really know what to say. I think my sister said it best when she said that it sucked that this was happening to me and she was sorry. That about sums it up.

BTW, this is what Greg did to cheer me up. Hopefully if you're feeling a little glum after reading this, it will help you too.

Daddy has a squeeze box.

The "Let Mommy Sleep In" fort.