Bleeding... again.

So last night I was laying in bed with hubs watching The Office on hulu when I felt a gush. I ran to the bathroom to discover that I had begun hemorraghing what appeared to be old blood. I continued to bleed this "old looking" blood overnight, and this morning, and so I called the OB on call. I told her about what was happening and I kid you not, she asked me what an SCH was... great! (*rolls eyes*)

She told me that I could go to the ER if it got much heavier or more painful, but that at this point, she would advise me to wait it out, then adding, "you know some women bleed their whole pregnancies, on and off."

Comforting.

So that's where I stand (sit/lay) on this beautiful Saturday morning. I had hoped that maybe since it had been a week and a half since my last episode of blood, hubs could take me out for some fresh air on a little car ride but I guess we will have to scrap those plans :(

I am trying to stay optimistic and tell myself that this is just my body ridding itself of this nasty old clot, and that I (and my lovely little snowflakes) will be the better for it. Please join me in praying for the same.

Some of you kind ladies wrote offering to send me books to read to pass the time. After a huge buying spree on Overstock.com yesterday, I can honestly say I am all set :-)

Thanks for the thought though.

**A side note**

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE check out all the good that my dear bloggie friend, Mama Grits, is doing to help a little orphan with Cockayne Syndrome named Yulia who is kept drugged in a laying room all day. So sad. :( Mama Grits has joined in the fight to try to find a loving home for Yulia and has set up this site A Hope For Julia  where she writes: "Please spread the word!!!! Get Julia HOME. Get her out of there and into a mommy and daddy's arms...to be held.... it's MY prayer for Julia."

Now That I've Gotten That Off My Chest... & The Gender Guess Giveaway Winner

So there was no sugar coating my emotions on Tuesday - I was sad/ frustrated/ overwhelmed etc. etc. etc. That being said, I have had A LOT OF TIME over these last 48+ hours of bedrest to come to terms with the not so pretty news I was given, and try to move forward - while laying as still as possible of course, so that's what I am doing (for now at least, you never can predict the mood of the next post.)

So I did INDEED have a winner to my little gender guess giveaway. I will preface this by saying, again, that this is what we believe the twins to be, based on ultrasounds up until this point, but it is still too early to know definitively.

FIRST THE NEWS -

At our 14 week appointment we saw three lines and a rocket ship! You guessed it - We believe Baby A is a BOY (this one they said they were 99% sure about) and Baby B is a GIRL (This they were less sure of at this point, because Baby B hides in the shadows behind my belly button.)

The winner of my giveaway is none other than...

VIOLETT 1122 of Searching For LadyBugs!

Congrats Violett!
You can email me your address at doinggoodinhername(at)gmail(dot)com and I will get your prize in the mail for you right away!

I read Violet's latest post, and saw that she just learned the gender of her little bean as well - a boy! As a giveaway prize I wanted to get something symbolic for her, and when I came across this book, I just couldn't pass it up because it seemed extremely fitting - both because of the name of her blog, and because of the anxiously awaited birth of her little one.

How perfect a title is that? Violette, I really hope you enjoy reading this to your little baby boy when he arrives.

NOW DOWN TO THE NITTY GRITTY ABOUT THIS SCH BUSINESS-

A few commentors asked me about what could be done for this SCH, and at this point, sadly, nothing. I asked my doctor about blood thinners to bleed it out, and she said at this point that that is not something that they would try (I guess the benefit at this size clot would not outweigh the risk.) There is very little, intervention that they will do prior to 20 weeks of pregnancy, to stave off pre-term labor etc, so for now we just wait, and pray, and hope. In response to theluckylife's question, regarding how the SCH works, the damn things unfortunately are pretty unpredictable, so I will share what I have been told is a "best case scenario" for us to pray on.

SCH's can disappear in one of two ways. They can bleed out (hence the reason I asked the doctor about blood thinners) or they can be reabsorbed. If this is to happen, they say it usually resolves by about the 20th week of pregnancy. If it hasn't by then, they say it most likely will stick around for the remainder.

The increased risks associated with SCH (miscarriage, placental abruption, preterm labor, stillbirth) unfortunately remain even if the clot has resolved. I don't know why that is, they just do.

So I guess if we were sending a specific cry out to the universe, it would be for the SCH to either bleed out or reabsorb, and for the babies to be sheltered from any of these other risks. It's scary stuff to think about, but I do believe in my heart, that regardless of this latest shit storm, getting over this hurdle with healthy babies at the end of this pregnancy is a possiblity, so that is where I am trying to put all my energy.

So I guess that's about all to report from here. Hubs's cooking has improved by the day (thank Goodness) and he surprised me tonight with a yummy dish of rice, broccoli, and an organic (and of course nitrate/nitrite free) maple chicken sausage. So delish! I ate it, enjoyed it, and have thus far kept it down :).

AND SOMETHING TO SMILE ABOUT (or at least something that makes me smile) -

I will leave you with this, my latest snowflakes belly shot -
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I KNOW THIS CAN BE A TRIGGER FOR SOME, SO I AM PUTTING SOME SPACE HERE FOR THOSE SUFFERING LOSS/INFERTILITY WHO MAY NOT WANT TO SEE IT.
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I think our pup Charlotte knows something is up, don't you?

Thanks again for all the prayers!

!@#$%^&

Dear God,

Please!

Love,

Me

So I went to the doctors today, and gotta say, I am not too happy. The (insert expletive of your choice here) blood clot/SCH has grown... GROWN! Despite now nearly three weeks of bedrest. 

9cm at it's largest point when I had my big bleed, it is now 12.5cm x 5.5cm x 2.5cm. I mean really, cut me some damn slack universe. 

For the most part I have been very optimistic throughout this whole SCH ordeal (annoyed, but optimistic) and yes, I should mention, both babies still look beautiful and well so Thank God for that! It's just that I can only handle so much. I have spent the last four years trying to have a family, and have been met by heartache and roadblocks every step of the way. It's not that I am upset to still be on bedrest, I will do whatever it takes to get these snowflakes here safe and sound, it's that I have been doing all I can and up until now, it hasn't mattered... much like with Peyton I did all I could and it didn't matter, and with the baby before her that I miscarried. It gets to be a bit much to handle.

The doctor talked to me about things I don't want to talk about. Risks of miscarriage, stillbirth and premature labor associated with these hemorrages. She wasn't being an alarmist, just doing her job of keeping me informed, and I started to cry, because these are not distant worries for me. I know what loss feels like. I live it each and every day. She then put the doppler to my belly, and for the first time I heard their heartbeats, but the moment wasn't what it should have been, it was tainted by the fear and worry and tears that came with the news that the SCH had grown, and that makes me even madder at it.

She then asked what I have been doing at home, and I told her that per the other doctor's recommendations (this is a large practice) I have been doing bed to couch to bed type stuff and she said, "oh that must be so hard with a two year old running around at home, I saw in your chart that you already have a child." And I cried harder because I do have a child, or I did, but I never brought her home, and she certainly never was afforded the luxury of running around. The conversation was innocent enough on the OB's part, but it socked me in the gut with a force that made the room spin. On my way out I asked the receptionist to retrieve my file. She did, and I said, "I know this may be an unorthodox request, but can you please mark in some LARGE and LEGIBLE way, that my daughter is dead, and that while I don't mind any doctor here talking about the fact that she has passed, having to re-inform every doctor that asks me seemingly benign question about my child who is not, in fact, running around at home, is very painful for me."

She said she understood.

Every day I have people telling me to embrace each day of this pregnancy with joy, and to be thankful for it, and of course I am thankful - I love my babies and not a day goes by that I forget what a miracle their conception was- but embracing the day with sheer joy really feels like a pretty unrealistic expectation to place on me when countless hours spent in bed, and every trip to the restroom and check of the toilet paper, is a reminder of this stupid clot and the possible threats it brings with it. I will say that up until today (with exception of the day of my big bleed) I have shed no tears for this SCH, trying my best to push it to the back of my mind, but today it got the best of me, and I wept, and wept, and wept.

I know it is pathetic to play this card, because I know that life is not fair, but I just want to scream (yet again) that THIS IS SO NOT FAIR!

So God, universe, law of attraction - what have you, I am begging, pleading, and praying, PLEASE make this stupid SCH shrink and go away so that I CAN embrace every day with these babies with sheer joy and celebration - because I think they (and dare I say, I) deserve it.

PS I have not forgotten about my giveaway. I will announce the winner in my next post. Just feeling a little overwhelmed for it today.

I am a prisoner to my nose...

So the last few weeks have been pretty redundant. Wake up. Brush teeth. Back to bed. Take a few quick trips to the fridge/ bathroom. Back to bed. Take a shower. Back to bed. As you can tell... very exciting. 

I am happy to report that I have not bled since Thursday, and am crossing my fingers that this is some sort of good sign, though I know that SCH's are totally unpredictable, and no two cases seem to be the same. I have spent the last 4 days really focused on moving as little as possible and I think that is working. I have heard a few stories of SCH loss recently, and I can't lie, that's really hard. I am so incredibly in love with these two little babies, so incredibly in love, and am just holding onto the hope and belief that regardless of this damn uterine blood clot, come late February or early March, they will be here healthy, happy, safe and sound.

We went to the Doc this past Tuesday. I wasn't supposed to go until next Tuesday, but my morning sickness out of nowhere kicked into a super high gear, and I worried it might be some sort of complication due to the SCH. I am thrilled to report that once again both babes looked good on ultrasound and at one really adorable moment, they each leaned back to a laying position and put their hands in their mouths simultaneously and my heart just stopped because that was something their sister always did, in utero and in life, we even had Peyton buried with her hand to her mouth because she loved sucking on it so much, and seeing that sibling similarity between what she liked to do, and what they liked to do, was really touching.

Any guesses out there as to what sex these little snowflakes are? We have a pretty good idea, but have been told that it's still a little early to announce, because the ultrasounds at this point are not entirely reliable in that department.

To the first person who guesses correctly (or at least what we feel is correct at this point) and says Baby A is... and Baby B is... I will send you a prize :) Well in all reality, hubs will send you a prize because I don't leave the confines of my home except for doctor's appointments. Today was an exception to that rule however. Hubs told me he was worried because it looked like I "needed some fresh air" so he took me for a nice morning drive and I am so grateful that he insisted on it because the change of scenery did do me a lot of good.

You may be wondering at this point, what any of this has to do with the title of this post - "I am a prisoner to my nose." 

Let me elaborate. 

I have pregnancy nose - big time. Everything stinks. I spend little to no time on our leather couch because it is new (a few months) and stinks! stinks! stinks! Poor hubs has tried everything from baking soda to a product called Odorzout (at 45 dollars a bottle, what a waste of money that was!) to get the smell to stop offending me but it has been to no avail. Anyone have any leather smell removal tips for me? Because of this, I am spending more and more time just in my bedroom, my boring old (but not smelly) bedroom.

Beyond the issues with our couch, we have run into issues with our dishwasher where dishes literally come out smelling like vomit. I can't tell you how pleasant THAT is to deal with when you have morning sickness as it is! Poor hubs has taken every part of the dishwasher that he can reach apart, and still not found the culprit of the smell. Now, on top of all his other responsibilities with me being on bed rest, he is also stuck washing all our dishes by hand. 

Just goes to show, nothing is ever easy.

So there you have it - the reasons why I am a prisoner to my nose. I find every glass of water difficult to get down because even the clean dishes still smell dirty to me, and bottled water smells too much like plastic. I would love to spend my days watching TV (we don't have cable in our bedroom) or surfing the internet (don't have that up their either) but I can't because the couch stinks to the point that it has left me worried about whether there might be some danger to me being around it whilst pregnant even though calls to the state and federal consumer complaint departments, two pregnancy risk lines, Costco, their importer, the lab that tests Costco's products for safety, our state toxicologist, the consumer products safety commission, AND some random lab in California (yes, I know, I don't even live there but the stickers on it said that it meets California's guidelines for flammability and formaldehyde) have all assured me that while the couch may be "stinky" there is no reason to believe it is unsafe. Wow, typing that really illustrates how neurotic I have become - just another side effect of losing a child inexplicably to cancer.

So that's pretty much all the news that's fit to print here. I go back to the doctor on Tuesday to see if the SCH has shrunk at all (as of last Tuesday it was holding strong at 9cm at its largest point) and to watch my little ones dance around some more. Wish us luck!

**Also, sending prayers out to a few of my bloggy momma friends who are enduring their own trials right now, one who is facing her own SCH, and another who, though I don't know the details, is having a really tough time finding her way these last few days. Please keep them in your prayers too.

I'm still standing... er... sitting/laying

10 days. It's been 10 days since my little Peyton celebrated her second birthday in the stars, and I had my big bleeding fiasco. I have spent these days on modified bed rest, trying to free my mind from the worries that come with continued bleeding while pregnant. I've tried books, movies, surfing the internet, but the reality is that every trip to the bathroom is a reminder of this stupid SCH, and until it's presence is no longer so evident, freeing my mind from worry is not too likely.

For the most part I have put my energies into finding info that builds my optimism. I read a study saying that the risks of SCH's associated with IVF are much lower, so I have that going for me, and the vast majority of SCH women that I see on the online boards are still kickin', though there are other boards, boards that talk about loss from SCH, and as a means of self protection, I just try to ignore their existence.

I think the babies are trying to help me through this too. Though I have felt the odd "roll" here or there, being 14 weeks along, movement is not super evident as of yet, and the comfort one can get in these situations from a kick count is not yet an option for me. That being said, last night I felt quite the movement from my little baby B, and this morning, Baby A gave me what I think was the first jab of this pregnancy, and a welcome little jab in the side at that. I like to think they are saying, "don't worry mom, we are here, we are fine."

I felt Peyton begin to flutter at 14 weeks, so I guess it is not completely outside the realm of possibility with two of them in there, and my uterus being so incredibly tipped, that I should start to feel their movements ramp up in the coming days/weeks. What a blessing each movement is, a reminder that this is not for naught, and they are fine, and happy, and playing around inside of me.

I have a routine as I prepare for bed each night, of laying down shirt lifted, my eyes on my stomach just watching for the slightest movement, where I rub my belly, and remind them over and over how very loved they are, and how very wanted they are, and that it would be a really good idea to do whatever they can do to stick around and thrive.

This level of bedrest that I am on (bed to couch to bed with a few trips to bathroom and kitchen in between) is an indefinite situation, and my house is really starting to show the effects of that. I should mention that when it comes to house cleaning, I am a bit OCD. There are ways that I do things, very particular ways, ways that have been set in stone in the ten years of hubs and I living together (barring my brief absence from interest in caring for anything the year after Peyton died)  and since I have been instructed not to bend/lift/push/pull anything, poor hubs has had to pick up all the household slack before and after putting in a day at work. Sure, he doesn't do it the way I would do it, but he tries nonetheless and it's an effort that I truly appreciate.

I have to say that of all his new responsibilities, I find his efforts at dinner time to be the cutest. For the better part of our decade together, he has never had to think about what to have for dinner or trying to prepare meals. Sure, he has grilled some meat that I took out for him here or there, maybe cooked up some spaghetti, but for the most part these duties have fallen on me, and to see him present his little "man feasts" with such pride is just adorable.

In the past week and a half I have been treated to the finest in bachelor cuisine: taco salad, mac n' cheese, a really not very good chicken in peanut butter thing, a pb& j sammich, and last night, grilled cheese. Each meal is presented with a look of pride and a huge grin and I just smile and tell him it is delicious and "the best pb&j I have ever had" and he beams in appreciation, and that's all that matters. (Well, except for the chicken peanut butter thing, we were both in agreement that that tasted pretty awful.)

I guess that is really it then. I wish I had something more exciting to report, but life on bedrest fundamentally lacks any level of excitement. Please know how appreciative that hubs and I feel for all the prayers that have been sent to our little snowflakes lately. I will leave you today with some pictures of Peyton's birthday party. Though we were not able to be there, we are so appreciative that my Aunt took pictures for us. Like I mentioned earlier, it means a lot that our friends continued the celebration in her honor without us.

****EDIT - per hubs special request, he has asked that I clear his good name, and mention to the world, that last week he "attempted" to make chicken and dumplings... err... the dumplings were good.

Thanks to my sister for hosting the party at the last minute.

Here comes the rain again... argh!, double argh! argh!

Peyton's birthday was not AT ALL what we expected it to be. Hold onto your umbrellas, just when you thought my luck was changing, the storm cloud has blown back in.

Friday night I had some strong contraction type cramping and contacted the OB. He said that in all likelihood they were growing pains, and to drink some water and rest, which I did, which meant that waking up Saturday I had to get started bright and early to prepare for Peyton's birthday balloon release party.

The alarm went off at 5:30am and I was up, making dips, cooking ziti, running one last time to the supermarket. The church had said we could use their basement and we arrived there at 9:30 to set up for the party which was to start at 10. The doors to the church, however, were locked, and search as we might, we couldn't find anyone to open them. Apparently there was some confusion, the priest thought the secretary would be there, she thought he would be there, long story short I headed up to the cemetery to greet our friends, and hubs and my parents stayed behind to wait for the building to be opened, and to set up.

I got to the cemetery and a few friends had already gathered, which meant a lot to me because it was Labor Day weekend and people have a lot going on on Labor Day and they were making the time for Peyton and I appreciated it. I greeted those who were there, started bringing flowers to the grave, and was glad to see hubs and my parents pull up soon thereafter. We gathered around the grave, ready to get our balloons and markers out, and it dawned on me that I had left the CD I intended to play during the release in the car. I started making my way down the hill to the car and I felt wetness in my pants. At first I thought it was a little pee (sorry TMI) or some leukorrhea, but as I stepped, and stepped again, there was more. I looked down, and to my horror saw that I was gushing bright red blood that had soaked my jeans down to my knees. I called hubs over, hyperventilated, and he got me and my folks in the car and we headed off to the hospital. Her hospital. The one I swore I would never go to again because she had been born there, but it was the closest, and I was bleeding so much, and I was worried, truly worried, that I was bleeding out.

We got to the ER and they told me to wait, and I told them what they could do with their "wait" because it was my dead daughter's second birthday, and I had miscarried before, and I was pregnant with twins that I needed to make it, and I was bleeding and I would not wait. Miraculously they got me right in.

It was a long time before I saw a doctor, hours before they did an ultrasound, and all this time I was gushing, and gushing, and gushing. Soaking all the pads they had provided, the bed, everything. They came in and took vials of blood, and hooked an IV in my arm "just in case" and I told them I was thirsty and they said I couldn't have anything "just in case", and I knew "just in case" meant "just in case I needed an emergency D&C" and I cringed and I prayed and I begged them to be okay in my mind. My hubs and my parents stayed by my side the whole time, and tried to lighten the mood, and didn't correct me when I screamed that I was "sick of this shit," and this "wasn't fucking happening, not today" and that "if her doctor was the doc on call I was going to strangle myself with my blood pressure cuff."

And then came the grief over Peyton, poor little Peyton, who gets one lousy day of remembrance a year, and whose parents and grandparents were not even there for her release. I didn't know it at the time, but my family and friends still wrote her messages on her balloons, and still did the release, and still honored her, and for that I am eternally grateful.

The ER doc came in and hooked up the ultrasound and I told him, too, that I was thirsty, so thirsty, and he again told me I couldn't have anything and he started the ultrasound and I tried to look but he turned the monitor away, and I closed my eyes and repeated in my mind "they are both okay, they are both okay, they are both okay."

After what felt an eternity, but was really about five minutes, of complete silence, and furrowed eyebrows from the doctor, he told us that both babies looked good and we could have a look. On the screen my beautiful little snowflakes jumped and danced and looked perfect, and their heartbeats (though lower than we are used to seeing them) looked good, and the doctor told me it was a "threatened abortion" and gave me info on miscarriage and discharged me, and I threw the paperwork out because I was not even willing to accept that as an option.

My parents and hubs went back to the church to let everyone know what had happened, our loyal friends and family had stayed behind all those hours to hear word from the hospital, and I went home and showered and got in bed, and stayed there until Tuesday when my OB could see me.

So yesterday I had an appointment and an ultrasound and my beans are still beautiful, but they have found a large (3.5 inch (9cm) ) sub chorionic hemorrhage/blood clot in my uterus, and have put me on modified bed rest in the hopes it will either bleed out or be reabsorbed. I am trying to stay positive, though the doc did tell me that the risk of loss is still there, he told me that only time will tell and I should be "cautiously optimistic."

So that takes me to today, still bleeding but now it is more like spotting, and drinking lots of fluids and resting up. I am sorry this was such a run-on post, but it was a lot to share. I am going to post pics of Peyton's balloons that my aunt took, but first I thought I would leave you with these today... pics from last Tuesday's ultrasound when the snowflakes were 12w2d. Today I am 13w3d.

Our beautiful snowflake A - waving at us and facing us. 

(This baby is the same size as baby B, but the pic of B is just closer up.)

Snowflake B lounging and relaxing.

How it feels upon waking to your second birthday.

To my sweet little Peyton on your second birthday,

I thought I would be stronger this year. I thought for some reason it would be easier to face today with it not being the first, and the joy I feel over your little siblings, but I am learning through eyes that weep and a heart full of sorrow that this day that was meant to hold so much hope, will always be a glaring reminder of all that we were not able to do with you.

I read recently that we are all just energy, and since energy has no beginning, and no end, we, too, have no end. This brought me comfort as I thought of your energy leaving a body that was so deadset against you, and flying freely among the clouds, the birds, and the trees.

I know you have never left me. Nearly every day I have felt something that I have attributed to you - a flicker in the lights, a sense of Peace when I needed it, a warm breeze across my ears and cheek to dry my tears.

Someday when I am where you are, I will hold you again sweet girl and thank you for the many, many ways that you have comforted me through your loss.

I wish you were here today, running, playing, and doing all that little two year old girls should do. I find myself wondering what type of little one you would be - a tomboy? little miss independent? shy? When my mind goes there, to that painful place of all that I wish that we had had with you, I go back to that passage about energy and return to the thoughts of you as a free little spirit not constrained to any one title, and this lifts my sorrow.

There are moments from your life that I will never get over, and decisions that I will never find peace with, though for the last two years I have tried and tried and tried. Please little girl, help Mommy today. Help me to look back on your perfect little self with joy and admiration. Help me to remember all I did have with you - your unguarded love, our skin to skin time, breastfeeding, holding you, counting your perfect little fingers and toes, tracing the outlines of your face, reveling at the way you would look into my eyes with a wisdom beyond your age for hours and hours.

Help me to hold tight to these things today.

Happy Birthday my precious little blue eyes. Please know that wherever you are, it is to you that we are sending our love.

Loving you always, and missing you especially today,
Momma

Facing tomorrow...

is proving to be * so * very * heartbreaking. *

The way grief ages you...

I chose these two pictures because they show me with little to no makeup. The bottom one is pretty embarrassing to post, but it is very telling of the point I am trying to make.

Here I am approximately 1 year prior to Peyton's death.

And here I am approximately 1 year after Peyton's death.

Just another example of the way grief takes, and takes, and takes.