Are my breasts still sore?
Do they feel a bit smaller?
Is that a stretching pain or cramping?
Is the ache going away with Tylenol?
Do I still feel pregnant?
Will I get to bring home a living baby?
I'm two days away from 14 weeks, the point at which we learned our second baby no longer had a heartbeat. In actuality, we're already ahead of that pregnancy, since our second baby stopped growing at 12w3d, and we definitely saw a heartbeat with this baby at 13w1d.
I knew this was coming, but it still takes my breath away. Sometimes I can stop the thoughts before heading too far down that path, and other times, the fear just wants to take over. It becomes not about one day at a time, but rather one hour or even one minute.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
13-week appointment
As far as baby goes, today's appointment was great! Size looks good with a strong heartbeat. Baby was waving at us. :) I feel great, though I'm down one pound.
The panic set in when she couldn't find the heartbeat with the doppler. After several minutes. My placenta is forming a bit on the front side, and I have a little extra padding as it is, so I know it's tough to find still. Even though I KNOW that, my mind isn't exactly at ease. And my doctor is great; she just kept reassuring me, and then went to get the ultrasound. But it took longer than usual to pull up a good picture, so more minutes of panic. In total, it couldn't have been more than five or six minutes total, but it felt like an eternity until we saw that flicker and the movement. She actually started to turn off the machine when she realized that she forgot to print us a picture. So we have another little picture to add to our growing collection.
She said there was no need to cause me unnecessary worry, so we'll check on things again very soon. I'm going back to see her in two weeks, which will be 15 weeks and smack-dab between the points of loss with our other babies. Then at 18 weeks, I'll see her again, have an ultrasound and do an early glucose test. Since my dad is diabetic, she's not taking anything lightly! :)
When she was filling out the slip for me to schedule appointments, she said she had to put a special sticker on it so I could get a 15-minute appointment and not a seven-minute appointment. She said I'm not a seven-minute kind of person. :) Both Paul and I feel so comfortable with her because we know she's taking care of us.
Even though I had baby's picture in hand and saw that wonderful heartbeat, I couldn't stop crying. It's all so emotional and overwhelming when I'm in her office, and I'm flooded with flashbacks and worry. After lots of hugs from Paul in the parking lot, my panic attack started to subside. I just can't wait for appointments that are so routine they border on boring.
I want nothing more than to be an easy seven-minute appointment.
The panic set in when she couldn't find the heartbeat with the doppler. After several minutes. My placenta is forming a bit on the front side, and I have a little extra padding as it is, so I know it's tough to find still. Even though I KNOW that, my mind isn't exactly at ease. And my doctor is great; she just kept reassuring me, and then went to get the ultrasound. But it took longer than usual to pull up a good picture, so more minutes of panic. In total, it couldn't have been more than five or six minutes total, but it felt like an eternity until we saw that flicker and the movement. She actually started to turn off the machine when she realized that she forgot to print us a picture. So we have another little picture to add to our growing collection.
She said there was no need to cause me unnecessary worry, so we'll check on things again very soon. I'm going back to see her in two weeks, which will be 15 weeks and smack-dab between the points of loss with our other babies. Then at 18 weeks, I'll see her again, have an ultrasound and do an early glucose test. Since my dad is diabetic, she's not taking anything lightly! :)
When she was filling out the slip for me to schedule appointments, she said she had to put a special sticker on it so I could get a 15-minute appointment and not a seven-minute appointment. She said I'm not a seven-minute kind of person. :) Both Paul and I feel so comfortable with her because we know she's taking care of us.
Even though I had baby's picture in hand and saw that wonderful heartbeat, I couldn't stop crying. It's all so emotional and overwhelming when I'm in her office, and I'm flooded with flashbacks and worry. After lots of hugs from Paul in the parking lot, my panic attack started to subside. I just can't wait for appointments that are so routine they border on boring.
I want nothing more than to be an easy seven-minute appointment.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
wedding good things and 13 weeks
Whew! The long wedding weekend was great - but exhausting. Conversations with family were relatively easy, and everyone was just so happy about all of the exciting things happening right now. The list of good things from this weekend is long:
- seeing my brother- and new sister-in-law so happy!
- lots of Shirley Temples with extra cherries
- getting to know cousins better
- an incredible pizza buffet for the rehearsal dinner
- hearing people laugh at Paul's speech at the reception
- a beautiful hotel room with a walk out patio to the lake
- celebrating the 80th birthday of a great uncle and meeting more relatives
- dressing an adorable nephew in his pint-sized tux
- talking baby stuff with M, one of my pregnant sisters-in-law
- a super comfortable dress on a very hot wedding day and being told I was just adorable
- lots of congratulations on baby
- dancing with my husband
- listening to my brother-in-law sing the Ghostbusters theme at karaoke
- quality time with M, my sister-in-law, while our husbands were busy being brothers of the groom
- a two-hour nap this afternoon after we got home
Thursday, August 19, 2010
preparing for a weekend with LOTS of family
My brother-in-law's wedding is tomorrow....so I'm gearing up to see LOTS of family in the next several hours. We're going to have a lot of fun, and I'll get to know some of Paul's cousins better. And I love my sisters-in-law! Two of the three (not the bride) are also pregnant, and I haven't seen them in awhile.
Those are the things I'm looking forward to. I'm nervous about conversations or comments about my pregnancy. At least they all know, so there won't be any surprises like last weekend. So I'm planning to just soak in their excitement and well wishes and allow myself to be excited with them. And who's going to be paying attention to me with beautiful people in beautiful dresses (and tuxes) around us! :)
The words I need to remind myself of more often:
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
Phillippians 4:6-7
Monday, August 16, 2010
ultrasound update, sharing the news, and a limp
I am WAY behind with this update, and now there are lots of things on my mind...
I am now 12 weeks with this baby, and though statistic don't do much to ease my mind since I seem to defy many, I try to remind myself that in MOST cases, pregnancies progress very well after this point.
On Friday, August 6 we had another peek at our little one! We were back in for an ultrasound and had my favorite tech. I was so excited when she called us back because she will tell us what she sees. She doesn't interpret, but she gives us the facts.
Baby was measuring 11 weeks that day - three days ahead! I love to see that growth! The heart rate was great at 171. Baby was tumbling all over the place, and we saw lots of good dancing going on. Paul did his job well and asked for pictures. Even though we were feeling good after leaving the ultrasound, we still went upstairs to talk to the nurse just for extra peace of mind. And all is good. All is very good. I go back to my doctor next Monday at 13 weeks.
I am at my parents' for a long weekend, and a lot of family is home. I only see my aunts and uncles once a year because they live in New York and Chicago, so it's fun to see these little cousins.
But I don't feel comfortable talking about this pregnancy. My mom caught me off guard by announcing with my aunt's family, "so did Karin tell you she's pregnant?" I HATE those surprises. I don't have the ability to go along with the flow quite so easily anymore. I need to be prepared. Everyone turned and looked at me, and said congratulations. That's great, but I don't like being the center of attention. I feel like we've already been through this before, and people will just wonder if this one is going to work. I wonder if we'll take home this baby. I don't need to assure others when I have a hard enough time assuring myself.
I told my mom later that I didn't appreciate an announcement to a group, and she thought it was fine because we're all family. It was still a big group to me. She said she'd tell my uncle's family before I came home. I don't know if she did. Or if she told them I don't want to talk about it. Maybe it's easier to pretend I'm not pregnant until I have a big belly.
Everything seems too complicated to simply be excited.
Aaaaannnnnnnnd here's the current ridiculousness...I partially tore my Achilles tendon. While drinking lemonade. Sitting at a picnic table. My chiropractor thinks it started when I sprained my ankle last month (I managed to roll it twice in one day), and since then I've been walking to compensate, which has caused the muscles and tendons to shorten and tighten. It was ready to pop. And pop it did, followed by a shooting pain up my calf.
It's a good thing the chiropractor in my hometown is a family friend who was willing to see me at his office on a Saturday afternoon! He worked the muscles, and although I was in a tremendous amount of pain later, it has been much, much better. So I'm spending my vacation in a La-Z-boy with an ice pack on my elevated foot. Worst case scenario: he'll put me in a boot when I go back this afternoon.
Oh well. Hopefully it will match the dress I'm wearing to my brother-in-law's wedding on Friday. The second part of my vacation is in a lake/resort town later this week. I'll be a limping, pregnant bundle of fun! :)
I am now 12 weeks with this baby, and though statistic don't do much to ease my mind since I seem to defy many, I try to remind myself that in MOST cases, pregnancies progress very well after this point.
On Friday, August 6 we had another peek at our little one! We were back in for an ultrasound and had my favorite tech. I was so excited when she called us back because she will tell us what she sees. She doesn't interpret, but she gives us the facts.
Baby was measuring 11 weeks that day - three days ahead! I love to see that growth! The heart rate was great at 171. Baby was tumbling all over the place, and we saw lots of good dancing going on. Paul did his job well and asked for pictures. Even though we were feeling good after leaving the ultrasound, we still went upstairs to talk to the nurse just for extra peace of mind. And all is good. All is very good. I go back to my doctor next Monday at 13 weeks.
*****
I am at my parents' for a long weekend, and a lot of family is home. I only see my aunts and uncles once a year because they live in New York and Chicago, so it's fun to see these little cousins.
But I don't feel comfortable talking about this pregnancy. My mom caught me off guard by announcing with my aunt's family, "so did Karin tell you she's pregnant?" I HATE those surprises. I don't have the ability to go along with the flow quite so easily anymore. I need to be prepared. Everyone turned and looked at me, and said congratulations. That's great, but I don't like being the center of attention. I feel like we've already been through this before, and people will just wonder if this one is going to work. I wonder if we'll take home this baby. I don't need to assure others when I have a hard enough time assuring myself.
I told my mom later that I didn't appreciate an announcement to a group, and she thought it was fine because we're all family. It was still a big group to me. She said she'd tell my uncle's family before I came home. I don't know if she did. Or if she told them I don't want to talk about it. Maybe it's easier to pretend I'm not pregnant until I have a big belly.
Everything seems too complicated to simply be excited.
*****
Aaaaannnnnnnnd here's the current ridiculousness...I partially tore my Achilles tendon. While drinking lemonade. Sitting at a picnic table. My chiropractor thinks it started when I sprained my ankle last month (I managed to roll it twice in one day), and since then I've been walking to compensate, which has caused the muscles and tendons to shorten and tighten. It was ready to pop. And pop it did, followed by a shooting pain up my calf.
It's a good thing the chiropractor in my hometown is a family friend who was willing to see me at his office on a Saturday afternoon! He worked the muscles, and although I was in a tremendous amount of pain later, it has been much, much better. So I'm spending my vacation in a La-Z-boy with an ice pack on my elevated foot. Worst case scenario: he'll put me in a boot when I go back this afternoon.
Oh well. Hopefully it will match the dress I'm wearing to my brother-in-law's wedding on Friday. The second part of my vacation is in a lake/resort town later this week. I'll be a limping, pregnant bundle of fun! :)
Monday, August 9, 2010
a case of the mondays
I have a case of the Mondays today. I have a case of the Mondays every week.
My first miscarriage was on a Monday. I spent most of the day in the ER, and it was easily the worst day of my life. With my second miscarriage, we found out on Friday there was no heartbeat, and on Monday I had the D&C. I spent the morning waiting at home, hungry because I couldn't eat and thinking about what was to come. But the waiting area was the worst. Just sitting there waiting to become empty.
My babies left my body on Mondays.
The dates of the miscarriages don't get to me when they come around each month, and I really don't count the months. Instead, each week starts with difficulty because bed just feels like a nicer place to spend the day. Sunday nights hold sadness because Monday means re-entering the real world.
My doctor schedules OB appointments for Monday mornings and Friday afternoons. I can't help but think that just offers the possibility of more bad Mondays. My next appointments is two weeks from today. Maybe I'll hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time. I will gladly take that on a Monday.
My first miscarriage was on a Monday. I spent most of the day in the ER, and it was easily the worst day of my life. With my second miscarriage, we found out on Friday there was no heartbeat, and on Monday I had the D&C. I spent the morning waiting at home, hungry because I couldn't eat and thinking about what was to come. But the waiting area was the worst. Just sitting there waiting to become empty.
My babies left my body on Mondays.
The dates of the miscarriages don't get to me when they come around each month, and I really don't count the months. Instead, each week starts with difficulty because bed just feels like a nicer place to spend the day. Sunday nights hold sadness because Monday means re-entering the real world.
My doctor schedules OB appointments for Monday mornings and Friday afternoons. I can't help but think that just offers the possibility of more bad Mondays. My next appointments is two weeks from today. Maybe I'll hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time. I will gladly take that on a Monday.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
memory boxes
I finally did it.
I had been wanting to gather my babies' things in one place for a long time, but the boxes had just been sitting empty for several months. For awhile, I thought Paul and I needed to do it together, so I put it off. The time just had to be right. And why it felt right between loads of laundry, I don't know.
Sorting cards that were sent to us made me cry. Because of the kind words. Because there are fewer after the second miscarriage than the first. Because there were "congratulations on your pregnancy" cards for both of them, but not this current one. I cried because there are so few things in my first baby's box. I cried because I don't have a picture of Paul and me from when I was pregnant with my second baby.
I cried because this is my life. My babies died. And that will always hurt.
When I bought the memory boxes, I found a third, smaller one that says hope inside a heart. I didn't buy it with the intention that it would become another memory box. It's a hope box. And so in it right now are the three positive HPSs showing the good news of this pregnancy. The hope box is a good place for them. At least it's better than my underwear drawer.
I restacked the boxes on the little shelf and set my Willow Tree "Promise" figurine on top. Paul gave it to me for our anniversary one year, and it had the shelf all to itself until the babies' boxes needed a place. This has been the arrangement for several months, but I had never noticed that it represents our family now. Paul and I with our three babies. All the tangible memories I have from the first two are gathered together, with a box of hope for this baby.
The boxes sit in our bedroom where we see them whenever we walk in or out. They don't need to be on display elsewhere; they are just for us to share if we choose. Their nearness is comforting.
I had been wanting to gather my babies' things in one place for a long time, but the boxes had just been sitting empty for several months. For awhile, I thought Paul and I needed to do it together, so I put it off. The time just had to be right. And why it felt right between loads of laundry, I don't know.
Sorting cards that were sent to us made me cry. Because of the kind words. Because there are fewer after the second miscarriage than the first. Because there were "congratulations on your pregnancy" cards for both of them, but not this current one. I cried because there are so few things in my first baby's box. I cried because I don't have a picture of Paul and me from when I was pregnant with my second baby.
I cried because this is my life. My babies died. And that will always hurt.
When I bought the memory boxes, I found a third, smaller one that says hope inside a heart. I didn't buy it with the intention that it would become another memory box. It's a hope box. And so in it right now are the three positive HPSs showing the good news of this pregnancy. The hope box is a good place for them. At least it's better than my underwear drawer.
I restacked the boxes on the little shelf and set my Willow Tree "Promise" figurine on top. Paul gave it to me for our anniversary one year, and it had the shelf all to itself until the babies' boxes needed a place. This has been the arrangement for several months, but I had never noticed that it represents our family now. Paul and I with our three babies. All the tangible memories I have from the first two are gathered together, with a box of hope for this baby.
The boxes sit in our bedroom where we see them whenever we walk in or out. They don't need to be on display elsewhere; they are just for us to share if we choose. Their nearness is comforting.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
double digits and a purchase
I'm 10 weeks pregnant today! That means we've known for six weeks, and I can't decide if they've gone by quickly or slowly. Now I'm counting down the days 'til our next ultrasound...five more. I can't wait to see baby again and see how those little arms and legs will have grown!
Yesterday I went shopping with my sister-in-law and made my first baby purchase! We wandered into the baby section of Old Navy, and there was a sale. I decided this was absolutely necessary:
It felt good to buy something for baby, like I actually believe I'll bring her or him home in February. I feel like I have to nudge my excitement a bit, but I'll get there.
Yesterday I went shopping with my sister-in-law and made my first baby purchase! We wandered into the baby section of Old Navy, and there was a sale. I decided this was absolutely necessary:
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