It's been a rough few days since the news from the fetal echocardiogram. We have been struggling to regain our bearings; find our footing. We have spent a lot of time thinking and talking. As we did, one of the seemingly unrelated thoughts that came to me in the quiet hours was that I had caused my miscarriage with Oliver. I remember clearly being in the shower one morning after discovering we were pregnant and thinking, "I am excited you're here, but I'm not capable of dealing with another child with a heart problem." Shortly thereafter, we lost him. I remember having a similar thought when we were trying again last October. "I can't deal with any more problems, so if you're going to have issues, please don't come." Did my thoughts cause the miscarriage and the failure in October? As a friend of mine said, "You are not that powerful." She's probably right. But the amazing part about the thought of me having caused those disappointments was that I didn't feel guilty. Let's assume I did cause them. I honestly meant the thoughts when I had them. I was in no position to deal with another child with heart issues either of those times. When we went forward this time, we were both clear that we were willing to take whatever we got--problems and all. Remembering that has made coping a little easier. But more amazing was that, as I processed these thoughts, I finally felt at peace with my miscarriage. I'm fairly certain that I did not expect the news that Jellybean has a heart defect to bring acceptance of Oliver's miscarriage. Then again, we often don't know what form blessings will come in. And, right now, I'll take any blessings I can get.
At the same time, we are still struggling with the news. In one conversation, I indicated that I was having trouble investing. The statement was nieve. I was already invested. Still, my brain was trying to protect me. As we talked, we realized that we needed to be invested. The only way to fight for Jellybean was to be invested. And the best way to be more invested, was to give Jellybean a name. So, that's where we are. Figuring out Jellybean's name. Getting invested.
Our next fetal echocardiogram is scheduled for next month. They are waiting for Jellybean to get bigger because it will be easier to see the heart. It's hard to wait that long, but it gives us some time. Time to choose a name for Jellybean. Time to grieve the loss of the perfect child we hoped for. Time to accept the perfect child that Jellybean is.
6.19.2013
A Not Entirely Unexpected Complication
Today we went in for a fetal echocardiogram to check out Jellybean's heart. Turns out it was a good thing we did. Looks like he (it's a boy!) has some issues, including a VSD. What the doc saw could be any number of things, so we don't have an official diagnosis. Instead, I have to go to Detroit for more tests sometime in the next few weeks. They will get more and better pictures (not sure how), and come up with an official diagnosis. The doc today did say that she thinks Jellybean will need surgery shortly after birth--not with hours, but within the first week. Because of that, she thought it might be better for me to birth at the Detroit hospital. Obviously, we have lots more testing and follow-up before we reach this point, but this adds way more degrees of difficulty to the delivery. On the plus side, she didn't think it was anything that would require early delivery or a C-section. That is, she thinks Jellybean can tolerate labor and delivery. So, that's good news.
The doc today is contacting Lil' Bit's pediatric cardiologist, in part because that's who Jellybean will see after birth, but also because Dr. S is affiliated with Detroit. The doc today is affiliated with UofM, but we are more comfortable dealing with Detroit since we already know the folks there. Dr. S is going to work on the fetal referral process to get me on the schedule for the additional testing. As we go along, I will likely have OB visits with my regular OB, my high-risk OB, and a new OB in Detroit so I will be familiar with them before delivery.
All of this news is frightening, frustrating, and overwhelming. However, I have some small semblance of calm in that I know how some of this works because of Lil Bit's surgery. This time, we know the surgeons, we know the hospital, we know the area, etc. We also have the benefit of knowing early, rather than finding out 6 months in, so we can prepare (Read--plan!!! Always look on the brightside, right?) Still, I had been hoping and praying the Jellybean would be "normal." Instead, it looks like he is already trying to outdo his sister. This sibling rivalry thing sure starts early!
So, to sum up: We know there's something wrong, but we're not sure what. We should find out soon, but we don't know when. There will be lots of planning required, but nothing I can do yet. And I'm not supposed to stress. Yeah. Good luck with that.
The doc today is contacting Lil' Bit's pediatric cardiologist, in part because that's who Jellybean will see after birth, but also because Dr. S is affiliated with Detroit. The doc today is affiliated with UofM, but we are more comfortable dealing with Detroit since we already know the folks there. Dr. S is going to work on the fetal referral process to get me on the schedule for the additional testing. As we go along, I will likely have OB visits with my regular OB, my high-risk OB, and a new OB in Detroit so I will be familiar with them before delivery.
All of this news is frightening, frustrating, and overwhelming. However, I have some small semblance of calm in that I know how some of this works because of Lil Bit's surgery. This time, we know the surgeons, we know the hospital, we know the area, etc. We also have the benefit of knowing early, rather than finding out 6 months in, so we can prepare (Read--plan!!! Always look on the brightside, right?) Still, I had been hoping and praying the Jellybean would be "normal." Instead, it looks like he is already trying to outdo his sister. This sibling rivalry thing sure starts early!
So, to sum up: We know there's something wrong, but we're not sure what. We should find out soon, but we don't know when. There will be lots of planning required, but nothing I can do yet. And I'm not supposed to stress. Yeah. Good luck with that.
6.03.2013
Facing Infertility in a Facebook World
I had hoped to post this during National Infertility Awareness Week (April 21-27, 2013), but life got in the way. Still, as many of my friends are giving birth and populating my Facebook newsfeed with adorable newborn pictures, and with me headed for the big anatomy ultrasound, I wanted to talk a little about what it was like for me on the other side of the feed.
When I got pregnant with Lil' Bit, I was so excited. As did many of my friends, I changed my profile picture to an ultrasound image and was generally obnoxious as only pregnant women (particularly those of us who worked so darn hard to get that way) can be. I justified it because I had EARNED it. I don't know that I thought much about those on the receiving end of my posts--those who were happy for me, but for whom each of my posts was a reminder of what they had not yet been able to achieve.
Fast-forward to the past year, where I was faced once again with my infertility as I struggled with miscarriage and a failed FET. As I chronicled here and here, I struggled as my newsfeed filled with friends' news of pregnancy and ultrasound pictures. It hurt to see others getting what I wanted while I was being denied what I worked so hard and paid so much to achieve. Even after I got the positive result from this pregnancy, the pain was still fresh. And with that pain in mind, I began to wonder how best to move forward. How could I balance sharing my good news with making it less painful for those who I knew were still struggling? I ultimately determined that there wasn't much I could do because I can't anticipate what will hurt any particular person, given that they all have unique struggles. But, there was one thing I could do. I could refrain from changing my profile picture to an ultrasound image. I don't know how it affects others, but for me, it was a constant stab. It was one thing to see the pictures in my feed and know I wouldn't have to see them soon as they got bumped by more recent stuff. But, once it was a profile pic, I saw it every single time I interacted with the person or they did anything that showed up in my feed. So, knowing how difficult it was for me to be on the receiving end, I decided that I would not inflict that on anyone else who had similar feelings.
This is not to say that those who did or do it have done something wrong. They had and have every right to proclaim their joy in any way that they want to anyone that they want. I even did it last time with Lil' Bit. This time around, though, I want to be a good steward to those who are still struggling and those who have yet to discover their struggle ahead. I won't stop sharing my joy, but I can try not to make it unavoidable. And please know, even as I struggle with my pregnancy and get frustrated with my shots, I know how lucky I am. I know how many people deeply want a pregnancy, any pregnancy, and would take a high-risk one over none at all. I know that pain. Even as I carry my second child, I remember and feel that pain. I have not forgotten. To those of you who share the struggle, you are on my mind, in my heart, and in my prayers.
When I got pregnant with Lil' Bit, I was so excited. As did many of my friends, I changed my profile picture to an ultrasound image and was generally obnoxious as only pregnant women (particularly those of us who worked so darn hard to get that way) can be. I justified it because I had EARNED it. I don't know that I thought much about those on the receiving end of my posts--those who were happy for me, but for whom each of my posts was a reminder of what they had not yet been able to achieve.
Fast-forward to the past year, where I was faced once again with my infertility as I struggled with miscarriage and a failed FET. As I chronicled here and here, I struggled as my newsfeed filled with friends' news of pregnancy and ultrasound pictures. It hurt to see others getting what I wanted while I was being denied what I worked so hard and paid so much to achieve. Even after I got the positive result from this pregnancy, the pain was still fresh. And with that pain in mind, I began to wonder how best to move forward. How could I balance sharing my good news with making it less painful for those who I knew were still struggling? I ultimately determined that there wasn't much I could do because I can't anticipate what will hurt any particular person, given that they all have unique struggles. But, there was one thing I could do. I could refrain from changing my profile picture to an ultrasound image. I don't know how it affects others, but for me, it was a constant stab. It was one thing to see the pictures in my feed and know I wouldn't have to see them soon as they got bumped by more recent stuff. But, once it was a profile pic, I saw it every single time I interacted with the person or they did anything that showed up in my feed. So, knowing how difficult it was for me to be on the receiving end, I decided that I would not inflict that on anyone else who had similar feelings.
This is not to say that those who did or do it have done something wrong. They had and have every right to proclaim their joy in any way that they want to anyone that they want. I even did it last time with Lil' Bit. This time around, though, I want to be a good steward to those who are still struggling and those who have yet to discover their struggle ahead. I won't stop sharing my joy, but I can try not to make it unavoidable. And please know, even as I struggle with my pregnancy and get frustrated with my shots, I know how lucky I am. I know how many people deeply want a pregnancy, any pregnancy, and would take a high-risk one over none at all. I know that pain. Even as I carry my second child, I remember and feel that pain. I have not forgotten. To those of you who share the struggle, you are on my mind, in my heart, and in my prayers.
Pregnancy Comparisons
I knew going into this process that pregnancies can be very different. But, much like when people tell you parenting will be hard, you have no real concept of what that truly means until it actually happens. So, here I am, wallowing in the midst of a very different pregnancy, struggling to try and enjoy it. In all honesty, I am glad we decided it would be my last. Even if we hadn't, my experiences this time probably would have sent me to that decision anyway. Between periods of bedrest, bleeding, round ligament pain (OMG! I did not have this at all last time and it is horrible--imagine a charlie-horse in your groin every time you stand up or roll over in bed), weekly doctor's appointments, extra ultrasounds and a fetal echocardiogram, and being older with less energy to boot, this pregnancy is anything but a cake walk. Don't get me wrong. I am well-aware that it could be much worse. Still, I just never anticipated quite how different from my first pregnancy this one would be.
What's more, the things that are the same as last time aren't terribly great. For example: I once again have a low-lying, anterior (up front) placenta. Now, the ultrasound tech informed me that pretty much everyone's placenta appears to be low-lying at this point, so she's not worried about that, particularly given that it moved well last time. There's also nothing horrible about the anterior position of the placenta, except it means I likely won't feel Jellybean moving around until 22 weeks. That's a bummer because I was really looking forward to feeling baby sooner this time. I also wish the nurses would stop asking every visit if I can feel baby move--it makes me panic even though I know why I can't feel any movements yet. Hopefully, things will look better at our ultrasound this week.
What else is the same? Having gestational diabetes. Although this time around it's so much more complicated. Between drawing blood four times a day to test my sugars, and three shots a day of both long and short-acting insulin, I have already had my fill of needles. I have managed to lump my 8 pills and 3 shots per day into only 6 medication administrations, but add in Lil' Bit's 5 medication administrations and it gets really complicated. So far, I have missed or slept through multiple blood-sugar tests, two or three fast-acting insulin shots, and two long-lasting insulin shots. This, even though I set timers on my phone for the two meds I was having the most trouble remembering to take. I suppose that, on average, this is not a bad record, but it is frustrating all the same. My doc said that if we can get me to the point where my sugars seem pretty well-regulated, I may not have to test four times a day. On the other hand, given that my insulin resistance is expected to increase as we go along, I'm not convinced that there will really come a time when my sugars are well-regulated. Still, I have managed to keep from having to have a fast-acting insulin shot at breakfast, so that's something.
I have been doing pretty well on eating appropriately and have managed to get in a decent amount of exercise by doing nesting/cleaning activities. Still, I find myself drawn to the things that have less nutritive value. One day, I caved and exchanged 31 carbs for 15 gummy bears. Even so, I must be doing pretty good since I've managed to only gain two pounds since February when we started IVF. I just find it difficult to focus on the good things when I am perpetually watching the clock to determine if it's time again to eat or test and then calculating how many carbs I should be eating at that particular time.
Still, I am doing my best to look on the bright side. Having an ultrasound roughly every four weeks means lots of chances to see the Jellybean and weekly appointments let me hear the heartbeat. I'm hopeful that as things progress, I will find it easier to take pleasure in this pregnancy instead of just wanting to get it over with. Until then, I'll just trying to keep doing what I'm told and follow Dory's advice from Finding Nemo: "Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming, swimming..."
What's more, the things that are the same as last time aren't terribly great. For example: I once again have a low-lying, anterior (up front) placenta. Now, the ultrasound tech informed me that pretty much everyone's placenta appears to be low-lying at this point, so she's not worried about that, particularly given that it moved well last time. There's also nothing horrible about the anterior position of the placenta, except it means I likely won't feel Jellybean moving around until 22 weeks. That's a bummer because I was really looking forward to feeling baby sooner this time. I also wish the nurses would stop asking every visit if I can feel baby move--it makes me panic even though I know why I can't feel any movements yet. Hopefully, things will look better at our ultrasound this week.
What else is the same? Having gestational diabetes. Although this time around it's so much more complicated. Between drawing blood four times a day to test my sugars, and three shots a day of both long and short-acting insulin, I have already had my fill of needles. I have managed to lump my 8 pills and 3 shots per day into only 6 medication administrations, but add in Lil' Bit's 5 medication administrations and it gets really complicated. So far, I have missed or slept through multiple blood-sugar tests, two or three fast-acting insulin shots, and two long-lasting insulin shots. This, even though I set timers on my phone for the two meds I was having the most trouble remembering to take. I suppose that, on average, this is not a bad record, but it is frustrating all the same. My doc said that if we can get me to the point where my sugars seem pretty well-regulated, I may not have to test four times a day. On the other hand, given that my insulin resistance is expected to increase as we go along, I'm not convinced that there will really come a time when my sugars are well-regulated. Still, I have managed to keep from having to have a fast-acting insulin shot at breakfast, so that's something.
I have been doing pretty well on eating appropriately and have managed to get in a decent amount of exercise by doing nesting/cleaning activities. Still, I find myself drawn to the things that have less nutritive value. One day, I caved and exchanged 31 carbs for 15 gummy bears. Even so, I must be doing pretty good since I've managed to only gain two pounds since February when we started IVF. I just find it difficult to focus on the good things when I am perpetually watching the clock to determine if it's time again to eat or test and then calculating how many carbs I should be eating at that particular time.
Still, I am doing my best to look on the bright side. Having an ultrasound roughly every four weeks means lots of chances to see the Jellybean and weekly appointments let me hear the heartbeat. I'm hopeful that as things progress, I will find it easier to take pleasure in this pregnancy instead of just wanting to get it over with. Until then, I'll just trying to keep doing what I'm told and follow Dory's advice from Finding Nemo: "Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming, swimming..."
5.01.2013
Dear Jellybean - 13 weeks 2 days
Dear Jellybean,
I want to apologize for not talking to you more before now. To be honest, I was protecting myself. It was hard to hope that you were really in there and doing well. But today, you showed me. You not only flipped around and waved your arms, but you showed the ultrasound tech a little attitude. When they tried to go back for more views, you laid on your tummy and took a snooze, refusing to move. When she did finally get you to move, you laid on you side, refusing to budge so she could see what she needed. You are so like your sister! Not surprisingly, you are tall, already blowing the curve at 13 cm (5+ inches) when pregnancy charts tell me you should only be 3 inches.
Seeing you today was amazing. Don't get me wrong, seeing your heartbeat at the 6 and 8 week ultrasounds was incredible, as was hearing your heartbeat earlier this week. But seeing you, looking like a little person, with a cute nose in profile and little limbs waving around, showing so much personality already, it made you real. Really real. I know you're in there. Listening. Learning the voices of your world--me, daddy, and Lil' Bit. So, here's my promise to you--I'm going to try to remember to talk with you at least once a day. Tell you what's going on out here as we get ready for you. Tell you stories about me, daddy, and Lil' Bit.
This pregnancy has been harder on me than your sister's was, but that isn't your fault. I need to remember to take joy in our time together. All too soon, I will have to share you with the world. Until then, I will do my best to make the most of our time. I will do what I can to make us both healthy. And, hey, the upside of the high risk pregnancy is an ultrasound roughly every 4 weeks, so we'll see you again soon. Until then, I love you, my jellybean. Whoever you are. I can't wait to see who that is.
Love,
Mommy
I want to apologize for not talking to you more before now. To be honest, I was protecting myself. It was hard to hope that you were really in there and doing well. But today, you showed me. You not only flipped around and waved your arms, but you showed the ultrasound tech a little attitude. When they tried to go back for more views, you laid on your tummy and took a snooze, refusing to move. When she did finally get you to move, you laid on you side, refusing to budge so she could see what she needed. You are so like your sister! Not surprisingly, you are tall, already blowing the curve at 13 cm (5+ inches) when pregnancy charts tell me you should only be 3 inches.
Seeing you today was amazing. Don't get me wrong, seeing your heartbeat at the 6 and 8 week ultrasounds was incredible, as was hearing your heartbeat earlier this week. But seeing you, looking like a little person, with a cute nose in profile and little limbs waving around, showing so much personality already, it made you real. Really real. I know you're in there. Listening. Learning the voices of your world--me, daddy, and Lil' Bit. So, here's my promise to you--I'm going to try to remember to talk with you at least once a day. Tell you what's going on out here as we get ready for you. Tell you stories about me, daddy, and Lil' Bit.
This pregnancy has been harder on me than your sister's was, but that isn't your fault. I need to remember to take joy in our time together. All too soon, I will have to share you with the world. Until then, I will do my best to make the most of our time. I will do what I can to make us both healthy. And, hey, the upside of the high risk pregnancy is an ultrasound roughly every 4 weeks, so we'll see you again soon. Until then, I love you, my jellybean. Whoever you are. I can't wait to see who that is.
Love,
Mommy
4.16.2013
My Reckoning
I have had a life-long love affair with sugar. When I was younger, I ate 1 lb bags of skittles like they were a single serve and could down a dozen donuts in a single sitting. It never occurred to me that eating that much sugar could cause problems down the road. I simply assumed that you either had diabetes, or you didn't. And, since I didn't, I was fine. Now, I'm not saying that I would have changed my habits had I known the finer points of Type II diabetes, but it certainly would have left me a little more prepared for now.
So, I did the 1-hour glucose tolerance test and failed by a single point--needed 133 and got 134. During my visit with the doctor about adjusting my meds, I discussed the additional anxiety I had over having to take the three-hour test. We discussed my last pregnancy and I indicated that I had had gestational diabetes and been insulin-dependent. She advised me that chances were strong that I would be again. This made me sad, but at least she didn't pull any punches. I took the 3-hour test last Friday and the results came back today. They were less than stellar. Whereas with Lil' Bit, I had only failed 2 of the 4 readings, which was sufficient for the diagnosis, I failed ALL 4 this time around. For fasting, I needed 95, I had 96. For the 1-hour I needed 172, I had 188. For the 2-hour I needed 150, I had 154. For the 3-hour I needed 135 and I had 146. With the exception of my fasting number, these were not even close. Ironically, it was my fasting number we had real issues with last time, so maybe this bodes well for being able to control it with diet and exercise this time rather than insulin. Who knows. But, since it's been 3 years since I had the diabetes class, I have to go again because "some things have changed." I still have my meter, so I may be able to just use it rather than having to get a new one. We'll see.
In any event, what is clear to me is that I need to make major dietary changes. How I do this I'm not entirely sure. I am not a huge fan of vegetables and those I like are the starchy ones. I love fruits, but they are high in the sugar index. I have already removed soda and french fries. Although I indulged in a few candy bars yesterday in fear of the results today, I had mostly kicked those out of my diet, too, along with cake, cookies, and the like. What I'm getting at is that all of the easy changes are done. There are no more simple solutions. I have to do the hard work now. It's even more difficult because last time, since I wasn't diagnosed until 28 weeks, I ignored calorie counts and simply went with anything that didn't raise my sugar too far. Thus, I figured out that I could have 2 McDonald's Sausage McMuffins with egg for breakfast as long as I took the top muffin off of both of them. That would keep my numbers in range, which was all I cared about, never mind the huge calorie and fat content. And then, I proceeded to eat that for many, many mornings. This time, I'm only supposed to gain 15 pounds the whole pregnancy. If you know anything about pregnancy weight gain, this essentially means I am losing weight during the pregnancy. Not gonna happen if I focus solely on how food affects my blood sugar without regard for calories and fat.
So, I have to do things differently this time. I don't really have any choice. I can't even console myself by saying I can stop after 7 months. Given that this is my second time to have gestational diabetes, and this time I will have it for much longer, my chances of type II diabetes are increasing all the time. I need to make changes now before it's too late and the diabetes doesn't go away when I'm not pregnant. This sucks. I hate it. But hating it won't change it, and ignoring it won't make it not true. This is my warning. It's now up to me to listen and do something about it. It's time to dig in and figure out how to do things right while I have a chance to protect my pancreas and stave off any more long-term damage.
4.04.2013
Hello, Mr. Hole. We Meet Again.
These past few weeks I have been struggling, physically and emotionally, to get my life in order. It hasn't really been working. I tried catching up on sleep, taking time off work to get caught up, being good to myself, all of the usual things, but each day I have felt a little more in the hole. Today, I was determined to make it a good day. I got up, showered, got Lil' Bit to daycare, and headed off to work. I never got there. I got too overwhelmed just thinking about driving in. I started crying too much for driving to be safe. I headed home. The worst part was, heading home made me feel worse. I have always been capable. People could (and did) say mean things about be, but I knew deep down that nothing they did could stop me from being capable and people would be able to see my ability. My capability was my safety net, and now it was gone.
As I pulled into my driveway, I was racked with sobs as the negative thoughts flew through my head--"You weren't capable. You couldn't make it to work. You're useless. How do you expect to take care of the kid you have, let alone the one on the way?!" It was too much. My mind looked up at the huge walls of the hole I had fallen into, curled up into a ball, and shut down. It was frustrating and scary, but I am grateful that I was not so far gone that I could not see that this was a big problem. It was my wake-up call. I needed help. I needed to up my meds. Yet, even as I knew the truth of those statements, I railed against them.
And now I write. I write so I can remember for next time, in case there is one. I write so that maybe someone else can see their hole before it gets as deep as mine. I write to remind others that they are not alone. And, to be perfectly honest, I write to convince myself of the rightness of my choice--because I argue better in writing than out loud. It's time to begin again, and find my way out of this hole. And maybe, just maybe, now that I've seen this hole a few times, I don't have to fall in it again. Here's hoping.
As I pulled into my driveway, I was racked with sobs as the negative thoughts flew through my head--"You weren't capable. You couldn't make it to work. You're useless. How do you expect to take care of the kid you have, let alone the one on the way?!" It was too much. My mind looked up at the huge walls of the hole I had fallen into, curled up into a ball, and shut down. It was frustrating and scary, but I am grateful that I was not so far gone that I could not see that this was a big problem. It was my wake-up call. I needed help. I needed to up my meds. Yet, even as I knew the truth of those statements, I railed against them.
"You're pregnant!" I shouted at myself. "You don't want to expose the baby to all that!"We sat quietly for a while--me, myself, and I. And then I physically got up and contacted my doctor's office and left a message about getting my meds adjusted. I hate feeling weak. I hate feeling incapable. But, I would hate myself more if I let things get worse instead of heeding the call and getting help.
"True," I answered myself, calmly and quietly, hoping to make myself listen to reason. "You have done the best you could with that, but the time has come to say when."
"I don't want to!" I wailed petulantly.
"I know. But you don't want to feel miserable and worthless either. And you don't have to."
"I do want to be functional again. Enjoy the life I have, the family and job I love..." I sniffled.
"Exactly. You want to be you again."
I nodded, much like my toddler, hanging my head, knowing I was beat, but not wanting to concede just yet.
"It's okay," I comforted myself. "This is not a moral failing."
"I know."
"Yes, but you don't believe me. Yet. But you will. Once you're out of the hole, you'll look back and wonder why you fought so hard for so long, just like last time."
"But I feel like I'm taking the easy way out."
"You think this has been easy? You did all you could. You are a fighter. But you can't out-think a chemical imbalance. It doesn't work that way."
And now I write. I write so I can remember for next time, in case there is one. I write so that maybe someone else can see their hole before it gets as deep as mine. I write to remind others that they are not alone. And, to be perfectly honest, I write to convince myself of the rightness of my choice--because I argue better in writing than out loud. It's time to begin again, and find my way out of this hole. And maybe, just maybe, now that I've seen this hole a few times, I don't have to fall in it again. Here's hoping.
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