Remembering

Please take a moment to watch this beautiful video, and remember to light a candle on October 15th at 7:00pm wherever you are in the world. Leave that candle burning for at least an hour, so one entire day of our world will be honored as remembrance of those babies - our babies - who have been lost to miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant death.

I have lit my candle this day, October 15th, for our babies who have left a wound in my heart that will never be completely healed.

Our candle burns for our babies and for your babies. I pray they are all being loved, rocked, cradled, comforted, and playing in Heaven until we meet them there.

Blogging About Blogs

I've decided to add another blog to my repertoire. It is focused on pregnancy loss and infertility (mine and others). The link is http://www.fertileramblings.blogspot.com/. Visit here & there plus add both blogs to your blogroll. Don't forget to leave your comments! :)

Now I'll suffer from being a bi-blogger. Oh dear.

A Common Thread

I'm having a bit of a difficult week. Thursday the 24th will mark the one year anniversary of our first miscarriage. That is when our whole nightmare of trying to have a baby began. I am sad and frustrated and feel alone. I'm grasping to whatever I can right now (faith, family, friends) to maintain hope in the fact that we WILL have our own baby.

As I was feeling down today, I saw the following posted on a pregnancy loss forum of which I am a part. I emailed it to many friends that I know who have gone through some of the same struggles. Through that I even learned of another friend who is currently experiencing another loss. We all know there are far more of us than we have been told. I plan to go buy my thread and will proudly wear it. Here is the post:

Referenced in this blog posting: http://stirrup-queens.blogspot.com/2006/09/history-of-infertilitys-common-thread.html

For anyone who has ever had a miscarriage, struggled with pregnancy, and all things infertile…there is a movement upon us that you might want to join. It’s rather simple actually: a discreet ribbon on your right wrist to signal to others that they are not alone in their struggles.
As someone who has had 5 m/c but am currently 5 months pregnant (YEAH), I wonder who looks at my big belly with sadness because they are in the month-to-month struggle. I mentioned to a friend that I wished there was some secret nod or international sign as if to say, this belly was hardwon. Well, she posted this quandry on her blog, and the response has been quite overwhelming…and a movement has been born!

The pomegranate-colored thread holds a two-fold purpose: to identify and create community between those experiencing infertility as well as create a starting point for a conversation. Women pregnant through any means, natural or A.R.T., families created through adoption or surrogacy, or couples trying to conceive during infertility or second infertility can wear the thread, identifying themselves to others in this silent community. At the same time, the string serves as a gateway to conversations about infertility when people inquire about its purpose. These conversations are imperative if we are ever to remove the social stigma attached to infertility. Tie on the thread because you’re not alone. Wear to make aware. Join us in starting this conversation about infertility by purchasing this pomegranate-colored thread (#814 by DMC) at any craft, knitting, or variety store such as Wal-Mart or Target. Tie it on your right wrist. Notice it on others. Just thought I would pass the word along!

The Third Time is NOT a Charm . . .

. . . at least for us.

Thursday, 3/13 - we're pregnant. Numbers look good. Go Todd & Kristin! Monday, 3/17 - numbers don't look good. Chemical pregnancy at 5 weeks. Miscarriage #3. Shit.

My amazingly wonderful doctor called me after 5pm on Monday with my results. I don't know many doctors who will stay late to call a patient to tell her she's lost yet another pregnancy. My voice cracked and I asked him, "What next? How many times do I have to do this?"

What's next? Hell, I don't know anymore. Surgery is first. Most likely in the next few weeks. The name of the procedure is an acronym of four letters that I can't remember (when the doctor tells you that you're losing your third, your mind kinda shuts down). I'll be put under and the doctors will check all of my parts to make sure they are in working order. They will also remove a fibroid from my uterus that may be part of the problem. That's two of the four letters. I don't know the other two.

I'm a bit lost, but I'm in a fairly decent mood. I'm pretty frustrated, but I've had a pretty good attitude. I'm definitely in physical pain right now, but I thought this one would be easier since it's an early loss. In some ways it is easier, but I feel like absolute crap right now. The cramps keep hitting me like a ton of bricks. I have a pretty high threshold of pain, but they come out of nowhere and I just begin sobbing. Advil helps but only after about 800mg. I finally broke & called the on-call nurse tonight and she said it's okay to take my beloved pain pills. :)

Todd has been extra-sweet and so caring. How could I get through any of this without him? God, I love my husband. He's just an amazingly wonderful man. He's truly my blessing.

Am I sad? Sure. Will I survive? Yes. Oh, I've done this before ya know . . .

When will God hear my cries? Will we ever have the family we so badly want? Once again, I dont know. The one thing I do know - this sucks. Times three.

Just Any Other Day?

When someone has a birthday, friends and loved ones usually remember to wish them a happy birthday. When a couple has an anniversary, sometimes family and friends wish them a happy anniversary. On the anniversary of when someone dies, even fewer people remember. Perhaps they remember that sad day but avoid it because it's either too painful to deal with, or they don't want to create pain for those that love the one who is gone.

Some people (like myself) are good at remembering dates. We have calendars that help remind us. I can tell you many of the dates for friends' birthdays & anniversaries- even people I may not see anymore. While through the years I've gotten worse at calling, sending cards, or emailing people on their special days, I always remember them. I oftentimes remember the anniversary dates of the dates of family and friends, and sometimes I even contact their loved ones if I think it's appropriate.

(Note: I guess this is where my pity party begins. I'm not writing this for sympathy or to make people feel bad. I write this blog for me, so I can journal whatever is on my mind when I write.)

Today is my due date. Yes, the due date for the baby that Todd and I will never see. The date for the first baby we lost. It is the due date for what should have been a beautiful time in our lives. It is the due date for what should have been the beginning of our family. I mean, it would be inappropriate for me to run around like it was my birthday & say, "Oh - today was my due date!" Not that I really care any more, but that would make people uncomfortable. Instead, it's just another day. At least it is to everyone but me.

So today, I mourn our loss. I mourn what should have been and is not. I mourn that I can't really even tell anyone around me. I mourn that nobody even knows. And I mourn that I have to have this same damn kind of day in another 3 1/2 months. Today just sucks and I'm so sad.

It's Finally Time to Talk About It

I'm not going to go into an inordinate amount of detail about it (believe me - there's a LOT & this isn't much of it at all), but some of our friends and family know that we've had two miscarriages since our marriage began in March (one loss in April, the other in August). It has truly been the most difficult thing I have ever personally endured - physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. I always thought that we would have difficulty getting pregnant. We've learned that's the easy part for us. Staying pregnant is what is so hard for us.

I haven't been able to talk about it or write about it all in detail to anyone so far. So many people want to talk about it with me, but I just don't want to. It's so incredibly hard to verbalize how completely devastated I have been. I have really needed time just to focus on what has happened, focus on my physical & emotional healing, and focus on my husband and our marriage. I know I've alienated several people in my life, but I hope that they can just understand that I need time. Much of my rambling here may appear to be somewhat surface - especially if those who read it have experienced pregnancy loss - but I'm not in the mood to get real emotional tonight. What I'm writing here may not mean anything to anyone but me, but hey, it's my blog & I'll write what I want. If nobody reads it, then fine. I'm writing it anyway!

Having two pregnancies and two miscarriages in the span of five short months has been complete hell on my body. My hormones have been completely out of whack and are still recovering. I've lost a ton of my hair. I never thought I would miss my long, curly (and sometimes unruly) hair, but I really, really do. My skin has become teenage-like and I've gained weight. My self-esteem is pretty much shit now because I don't think I look like me anymore. That may not be completely true, but it's very hard to look in the mirror. As tough as the physical trauma has been for me, the emotionally healing has been the hardest.

I wouldn't exactly call myself "healed", but I am finally to the point that I don't cry every day. I've never cried so often and so hard in my life (and those who know me know that I cry easily). I'm talking complete meltdowns that resulted in my eyes swollen shut, my upper lip swollen, nosebleeds & the like. After the first miscarriage in April, I hoped to make it one hour without crying. I eventually made it through several hours at once. After the second miscarriage in August, I just became numb for a while. In the times that I wasn't sad, I was angry as hell. Angry at every damn thing. Yep, just really effing pissed off because I had something taken from me TWICE and I couldn't understand what I had done to deserve this. I was also angry with God because He let it happen. All I could figure is that God was punishing me for something I had done in my past. I prayed and prayed for forgiveness, but when I lost our second baby, I figured that forgiveness was not due to me.

I've always tried to be a good person. I've never tried to intentionally hurt anyone. I've bent over backwards to help others often to the detriment of myself. I've made my share of stupid mistakes and poor choices, but I've never done anything that would deserve this. Why couldn't I just have a normal pregnancy like the rest of the world seems to have? When I experience difficulty, I try to figure out what I'm supposed to learn from it. God has a purpose for me, so what does the difficulty have to do with my overall purpose according to Him? I couldn't (and still can't) quite figure out what exactly I'm supposed to be "getting" from losing my babies. It has all seemed so surreal because I never thought it would happen to me.

Through all of this, one thing I have learned is that miscarriage is something not always discussed - until you're a part of the "club". Boy, once you have tragically earned this crappy membership, they start coming out of the woodwork. I know of friends and have met people who have been through multiple miscarriages, late-term loss, and stillbirths. I finally found a group of ladies that completely understand what I'm thinking and feeling (emotionally & physically) and know that it's normal. A majority of these women I have never met in person, but we know one another very well. We're all a part of this sick club that nobody wants to be a part of - ever.

Between our two miscarriages, I changed to a new OB/Gyn (after the 2nd pregnancy was underway). My first doctor was a complete ass, and I didn't feel comfortable with him at all like I had in years past (as a gyn patient). After meeting with "Dr. T" for the first time, I realized that God wasn't punishing me, but He needed me to change direction.

My new doctor, Dr. T, was personable, intelligent, eager, funny when appropriate, understanding, serious when needed, and professional. Dr. T took time to talk to Todd and me and get to know us as people. When we saw the heartbeat of our little fetus, Dr. T was excited. When I learned I was miscarrying for the second time, he hugged me as despair overtook me and I cried. He also assured me that we were going to move forward and find out why this was happening. And we did.

Most doctors wait until a woman has miscarried three times to perform testing. For a few different reasons, Dr. T wanted testing performed after my second loss. The testing is called "RPL" testing and is a panel to check four possible physiological issues that can cause miscarriage. My tests found that I have genetic mutation with the MTHFR gene.

MTHFR stands for methylenetetrahydrofolate reductase, though I think MTHFR is a highly appropriate abbreviation for a couple of reasons. ha! I have two copies of the gene which is called homozygous MTHFR. My body does not have the ability to metabolize folic acid, which is crucial to the fetal development in a successful pregnancy. It can also cause clotting issues. The homozygous MTHFR also deals with other physical issues, so I'm glad I know about it now. The treatment is very simple. I take 4 mg of folate per day (RDA is 1mg or less) and a baby aspirin as well to aid clotting.

Is treatment to my MTHFR mutation the cure-all that will insure I successfully carry a baby to term? No. There is no such treatment for anyone, any pregnancy. But at least we know have a helluva better chance than before. When we become pregnant again, I will be under close care through my doctor and through a perinatologist. I will be absolutely paranoid while pregnant but try to enjoy it. The worst part of being a miscarriage survivor is that you are immediately stripped of the joy and naivete' that comes with pregnancy.

I pray every day for Todd and me, for our families, friends, students, and colleagues, and for those people that I have not yet had the chance to meet. I also pray that God provides His healing, mercy, and grace for those in need. My specific prayer is that Todd and I can expand God's kingdom through Him allowing us to raise one of His angels as our child on Earth. We pray to have our dream come true - a beautiful, healthy baby. We don't care if we have boys or girls; we just want a family. We don't expect to magically become the best parents in the world because of what we've endured, but we do know that the appreciation of our future children will hold a little stronger in our hearts and our minds. So as I pray for all of you, I ask that you pray our specific prayer for us.