Letting Go

I’m writing this with a heavy heart.  I’ve been hoping since the last miscarriage that we’d be able to get pregnant again.  My family doesn’t think I should even try.  They all seem to take the ectopic pregnancy and two miscarriages  as a sign I’m not supposed to have anymore kids.  I haven’t wanted to go there in my thinking.  It is hard not to when despite only having one tube, I still managed to get pregnant.

I know that while I’m overweight, there are no major medical problems.  Until I got sick in November, I was exercising 3-5 times a week and I had started to tone up and lose inches around my waist. 

My husband has traveled a lot this last year, and I’ve got some major responsibilities with my calling at church (We are asked or “called” to serve in various capacities in our church.  It’s all volunteer—no pay.)  I’m the head of our women’s group at church aka ward Relief Society president.  I’ve got two counselors (other women) to help me, but there is a lot to do.  It’s a juggling act at times. 

I have been praying for guidance and the answer I got was to be patient.  That was a hard answer to get because I know that with every passing month, my chances at another successful pregnancy become slimmer.  

I’m not always good at being patient, but I’ve done my best.   I’m waiting and trusting in the Lord’s plan for my family.  I’ve watched good friends and my sister get pregnant, and give birth.  Two of those babies were due around the time mine were due.  Recently I learned that five women at church are pregnant.  One of whom is a good friend of mine, is pregnant with her eighth.  I knew she and her husband had been discussing having just one more child, and now they’re on their way.  

On the other hand, I’ve begun to see the light at the end of the tunnel and it’s exciting.  My youngest is almost potty-trained, and next fall he should be in preschool.  I will have a couple of hours in which I can grocery shop or run errands sans kids.  That hasn’t  happened in over a decade.  A year and  a half from now, he will be in kindergarten, and I will have more than a few hours by myself.  I’m starting to look forward to that possibility.  

As each month has passed, I’ve see-sawed back and forth between wanting a new little one, and remembering how much work new babies can be.  I went to a book club group where several ladies were pregnant and of course labor and delivery stories came up.  I remembered how much I hate hospitals after the delivery is over, and how edgy I get when I don’t sleep because of the relentless checking-in that can happen.  

I don’t rest when my babies are in the nursery because after labor I am hyper-alert to certain noises.  Every baby that cries I wake and wonder if it is mine.  I’ve tried sleeping with the babies in the room, but every time one of them makes a noise I wake, sit up and look around to see if the baby is waking up or just making noise.  Finally I learned the last time around (with number five) to keep the baby in the bed with me.  He would make his normal newborn sounds and I would just open my eyes to see if he needed me.  If not I would drift back to my dozing/slumber state.  I was always very cautious (I’ve read and heard too many horror stories to not be), and I am a light sleeper, so I took the necessary precautions to protect both of us, and was able to get some sleep for once.  Still, I didn’t fully rest until I came home from the hospital, and though I’ve talked it through, I still get tense thinking about the post-partum stay because of what happened with my fourth child (a really bad reaction to medications that left me sleepless, hyper and hysterical for three days).  

Then there are the midnight feedings and lack of sleep until the baby is big enough to sleep through the night.  The diaper rashes, thrush, and how much nursing hurts at first until your body is used to letting down your milk.  

Oh, but the sweetness!  Is there anything that smells sweeter than a new baby?  Isn’t rocking one of them to sleep against your shoulder one of the best privileges life has to offer?  And isn’t looking at the miracle in your arms and knowing they are fresh from Heaven one of the most exquisite and humbling experiences you can have?  

I’ve been so torn, but I’m close to 40, and frankly biology is playing a bigger and bigger role in this. 

So I’m letting go.  I'm lettting go of the control.  Frankly, it's not in my hands--it's always been in the Lord's hands.  Sadly I'm also trying to let go of the hope I will get pregnant again.  I’m trying to learn to be content  with the fact I’m not likely to have more children.  I am admitting it is out of my hands.  I can’t quite bring myself to get rid of all the baby clothes just yet, but I’m getting there.  

Today I got rid of the pregnancy tests in the picture.  I’m not sure why I was holding on to them. I guess in some ways they are reminders of the babies I had lost.  In other ways, they are anchors holding me in place—not allowing me to move forward because of their weight.  

So they are gone.  They are in the trashcan at the end of the driveway, and they will be gone for good tomorrow morning.  I plan on selling/donating the car toddler bed that is taking up space in the basement.  The baby clothes I don’t want to hand down will go in their boxes and on racks in the garage and get one step closer to leaving the house.   I can’t quite bring myself to get rid of them, because I don’t know what God has in store for me, but I can put them someplace they don’t take up mental energy. 

I am determined to not take this time with the kids I have for granted.  My oldest still talks to me and likes to do things with me.  The youngest still loves to snuggle.  The rest fall somewhere in-between, and so I’m trying to do more things with my kids. Play more games, read more books, make more crafts together.  They are my gifts from Heaven and they deserve a mom who is fully vested in the present, and not mired in the “I wish” of the past.  

I wish you many moments of joy today.

Difficult Year Part III

To our great joy, a couple of months after I was called as Relief Society President we found out I was pregnant again.  We were so thrilled beyond imagining.  If you recall from my other post, almost a year prior I had an ectopic pregnancy in which I lost my right tube.  Because of my history with an ectopic pregnancy, the doctors ran labs to ensure my hormone levels were rising appropriately and at 8 weeks I had an ultrasound to make sure the baby was in the right place.  

Everything went great at that first visit.  We saw a good strong heartbeat of our little peanut.  I wasn't all that sick during this pregnancy, but figured that must mean I was having a girl.  I had experienced very little morning sickness with Princess Ballerina.  At my 12 week check-up we were to do the ultrasound study to check the nuchial folds on the baby's neck.  DH was out-of-town again (this time South America), and they asked if a student tech could observe the ultrasound.  The ultrasound tech put the wand on my belly and I could see her frown. She quickly shut off the sound, and I asked again, "There's no heartbeat again, is there?"  

How could my world come crashing down again so quickly?  

*******

This time seemed harder.  Though I have faith in my Father in Heaven's plan for me, I still wondered, "Why?"  The grief physically hurt.  There were moments when all I could do was just breath.  I had only told a couple of people about this baby.  The last time I had announced we would be having a baby, and just days after losing the baby we went to a nursing home we volunteered at, and I was asked, "How is the pregnant mommy?"  

I had to answer, "Not pregnant anymore."

*******

 

Susan, my counselor in the Relief Society was absolutely wonderful.  She took charge of things going on and let me focus on being home with my other children.  I spent a day or two just crying and sleeping and crying some more--grieving my babies whom I would not get to hold.  

I also did a lot of praying and writing in my journal.  Even though I was suffering in my own way, I still felt Heavenly Father and Jesus' love for me.  

It was through turning to Heavenly Father and our Savior that I made it through that sad time.  I had to keep trusting that they have a better plan for me than I had for myself.  When talking to my sister I told her I didn't feel strong enough to handle this.  She told me, "You are strong enough and Heavenly Father knows it.  He blessed you with strength to handle this.  You just need to find it."  She encouraged me to keep turning to the Lord.  

I am grateful for the tender mercies of the Lord that lift and strengthen.  A hymn, a smile from my sweet child, a note from a dear friend--all these things came just when I needed them.  

My faith that I can do hard things when the Lord is on my side increased.  

I also found that in losing myself in service to others I was able to put perspective on things.  I am not the first, nor the last to have gone through miscarriages. I have also been lucky in that I experienced them after I already had five beautiful children.  It took us a while to become pregnant with C1-Firstborn, and I think that had I experienced loss then it would have been even harder because I wouldn't have known if I would ever be a mother.  

Serving others who have less, who are sick or who are struggling with family situations harder than mine reminded me just how much I do have.  

If you are feeling down or heavy with your own burdens, find someone else you can help.  I promise you it will help you put things into perspective and give you a good feeling to know you've helped someone else.  

It's been a couple of months since our last tragedy and I've been keeping busy with activities for my other children and serving the members of our church congregation.  My parents visited with us briefly and that helped too.   Right after their visit we took a family vacation--something we haven't done in three years.  We badly needed it.  Finally, I've set a goal to run a 5k in the fall.  I run with two other women in the morning and they are a huge boost to me.  

I am grateful for each day that I have with my loved ones.  Each day is a gift and though it is sometimes hard to remember that, I do know it is true.  

Go hug some more people, okay?

Catching up after a very difficult year Part I

Wow. Been a while since I posted. I had a pretty hard year. A few months after my ectopic pregnancy I got pregnant again and was pretty excited. I was pretty sick, which I took to be good sign--baby must be growing right--right?

I was dealing with thyroid issues again and went to an endocronologist who diagnosed me with transient hyperthyroidism due to pregnancy.

My doctors wanted me to do an ultrasound at 7-8 weeks to make sure the baby was in the right place after they had seen an appropriate rise in hormone levels. I had one and we saw a heartbeat and it was great.

At 12 weeks I had another ultrasound--the screening one they do for chromosomal disorders. I had my blood work drawn too. Our sweet little baby was moving and kicking and had a nice heartbeat. The doctor told me though that the nuchial folds were a little thicker than normal and they might want to do some more tests--depending on how the blood work turned out. I asked how thick was normal. Answer: 4. How thick was our baby's nuchial folds? Answer: 9.

It was not something I was expecting.

I went over to my friends house after my appointment to get my kids. She sat with me as I expressed my fears that the baby would be okay. I called my husband (dh) who was at the time out-of-the-country again. We talked briefly and decided try and not worry until we had the results of the tests.

Long story made shorter, after much prayer we felt at peace. When word came the following week that our baby had a 1 in 10 chance for trisomy 18 and a 1 in 10 for trisomy 21 (Down Syndrome) we were not surprised. It was a time of great emotion.

For those who don't know trisomy 21 is most commonly referred to as Down Syndrome. The 21st chromosome has three copies instead of the regular two. Trisomy 18 is three versions of the 18th chromosome. There is even one called trisomy 13. The 13th chromosome has an extra copy there. Birth defects and congenital heart problems are not uncommon among with these. I understand a good number of children with Down Syndrome need heart surgery. Not all do, but a good number of them. With trisomy 18, most babies do not live more than one year because of the birth defects they usually suffer from. Trisomy 13 babies are usually delivered c-section and most don't survive more than a day or two.

The doctors encouraged us to have either an amniocentisis or a CVS procedure. We prayed and talked and felt strongly that we should hold off on any more testing. We already loved our baby and no testing would change that. We did not want to do anything that might pose an additional risk to the baby.

On a brief trip out West, I found out my best friend had the same due date I did. We were both having a bit of a baby bump, so we went maternity shopping together and got some cute things. She was supportive of our decision, and a great strength to me. She herself was worried for her own baby, since she had been spotting.

(Her spotting stopped and she went on to deliver a beautiful baby girl and I couldn't be happier for her and her husband).

At my 16 week check-up, the doctor talked to me about seeing a high-risk ob/gyn to determine what extra care if any I might need given my chances for something going on with the baby. When he went to listen to the fetal heartbeat, he had a difficult time locating it. He had me move to the ultrasound room. I had a foreboding feeling.

In the next room the tech was looking at the ultrasound, and I could see that there was no swish swish of the heart beating. I asked, "There's no heartbeat is there?" She shook her head no.

I lost it.

I utterly lost it.

I don't think I've ever cried so hard in my entire life.

I had prepared myself for what I thought was the worst, that my baby would be born with trisomy 18 and I would only be able to have him or her for a year or so. I didn't realize that the chances of my baby making it to term were slim as well.

Words really can't explain how hard this experience was. I can say that my faith in God and in my Savior did make it easier. I believe that families can be eternal families, and I have had enough experiences in my life to know that I need to trust my Heavenly Father and his plan for me. And though my pain was great, the Savior knows exactly how I feel and more, because of what He did for me and all of us.

I received strength to go forward, and I am grateful for all I learned during this experience.

I'll try and post more tomorrow about our year.

Do me a favor and go hug your loved ones.