Mary Makes Babies

Grief and Hope

I hate having to share this update. It's not the one I had hoped to write. My head has been full of double rainbow baby dreams. As nervous as I was, I really felt like this was meant to be - having twins I mean.

But Baby B (we called her Bebe) stopped growing about 2 weeks ago. By the time we had our scan she was gone. No heartbeat. No hope. She's faded away - a vanishing twin. Her loss brings my angel baby count up to five. FIVE. How can that be possible? It just doesn't seem fair that one person should have to lose so many babies. I know it's even worse for some people, and that it could be worse for me. Every time I look at C, or feel his warm little cheek against mine I remember what a miracle he is. But still, the losses hurt. A lot.

While I cried for Bebe the ultrasound showed us images of Baby A (who we call Niji) kicking and waving her tiny arms. She's big and strong and healthy looking. I should feel relieved for Niji, but losing Bebe has stolen my confidence. I find myself over-reacting to every gas bubble or muscle spasm. I'm terrified of losing them both.

We go back in two weeks for another scan - during which our doctor will look for clues that could indicate birth defects, genetic abnormalities, or anything that would lead us to believe that the baby was, as our doctor put it, incompatible with life. He said that with anyone else he would gladly assume that Baby A is rock solid - but our history makes him more cautious about choosing optimism.

That's not to say that he is unkind or unhopeful. He's neither, really. He just wants me to understand exactly what kinds of risks we have ahead of us, because of course, nothing is guaranteed. No-one has to tell me that. The sentiment is pretty much tattooed on my heart at this point. NO PROMISES.

It's awfully hard to know how to feel right now. I'm absolutely depressed, but I'm not hysterical. I think the responsibility I feel to keeping even-keeled for Niji's sake is stopping me from completely losing it. But it's hard to get out of bed, or to care much about feeding myself or focus on the positive. I wish I could take Niji's health for the miracle that it most likely is, but my thoughts just keep drifting to a tragic outcome. I'm scared again - and I hate being scared.

What does give me hope is Niji's uncanny ability to make her presence known. It makes me hope that maybe she's just like her big brother - determined to be here. Last night I was laying in bed, waiting for sleep and letting my grief carry me away for a few precious moments. Suddenly I felt a familiar sensation spinning in my belly - like a goldfish flipping over and over. It was like she was saying "MAMA!! I'M HERE!!! ARE YOU WATCHING??!!"

I see you, little one, and I love you. I hope I get to meet you. I hope I get to keep you. I'm sorry you lost your sister. I miss her too.

Baby Niji waving hello

Anticipation

Tomorrow is the big day - our 11 week scan, and the moment when we find out whether Baby B has made it past the whole Vanishing Twin Syndrome danger, and whether Baby A is still doing well.

Over the past three weeks my belly has continued to grow and I've been dealing with more and more pregnancy symptoms, so I have reason to be hopeful about tomorrow's scan. I've even been feeling butterflies in the baby zone on and off, which I really hope means the babies are both doing well. Still, it's getting harder and harder to keep from freaking out as we get closer to this appointment.

Eleven weeks is a tough milestone for me anyway. It was sometime between 11 and 12 weeks that we lost Babeleo, my first pregnancy after having CC. That loss was awfully traumatic, and I can't help but re-live some of those feelings while worrying about the babies with me right now. All kinds of dark and gloomy thoughts have been creeping in over that last few days - thoughts filled with doubts and fears.

I keep thinking back to that week. I was so happy to have a baby on the way - thrilled and somewhat scared of having two little ones so close together. Everything was easier back then - at least everything that really mattered, like marriage, and motherhood, and identity. So much fell apart after losing that baby. - probably nothing more than my sense of safety and self-worth, and the two year nightmare of recurrent losses followed.

It's so hard to believe that the nightmare could possibly be over, or that these babies could actually be mine to keep. I want to believe it - so badly, but finding faith and hope is a lot harder than allowing fear to bowl you over. 

 

Hopefully tomorrow will bring some proof to help me through until the next scan, and the next, and the next. Cross your fingers for us, ok? I'll let you know what happens.

What the Psychic Said

My best friend back home believes in psychics. She even has her own personal favorite - a medium she has been seeing for many years who she trusts completely. While I have never been to see this person myself, she knows all about me, and my life has come up during their sessions a few times over the years.

Early on in my pregnancy with CC we had a close call due to a blood clot showing up in my uterus. I remember being horror stricken the morning I discovered that I was bleeding, and then struggling to keep a positive attitude after being put on bed rest and told to prepare for the worst. It was just a little while later that my best friend went to see her psychic. She was worried about me and about the baby, and her medium picked up on it quickly.

"Who is Mary?", she asked.

"That's my best friend.", said Melissa.

"She's pregnant. Isn't she?"

"Yes. Is she gonna be OK?"

"She and the baby will be fine. But you need to tell her to keep her feet up. That's important. You'll tell her, right?"

"Yes, I'll tell her."

"The baby will come fast. I see it shooting through a tunnel - REALLY fast."

When Melissa told me all this and I wasn't sure what to make of it - but I started putting my feet up anyway. By the end of my pregnancy we discovered that I was suffering from high blood pressure. Despite this being my first pregnancy CC did indeed come fast. I was pushing within minutes of reaching the birth center.

Later, we found out that CC had fetal cord restriction due to my blood pressure problems. He was born tiny but healthy - but we might not have been so lucky. It's a good thing I put my feet up. It's a classic piece of advice for blood pressure problems. 

This past weekend Melissa went to see the very same psychic and when I came up this time she offered more advice. She said that one of the babies was hiding right now (but she wasn't exactly sure what that meant) and that I need to stay calm, stay relaxed, and watch my blood pressure. All of those things are kind of givens, but her last bit of advice was nice and mysterious - just like the feet thing. 

She said that I need to sit down and sing to the babies. If there ends up being a medical explanation for this advice I will be pretty amazed. But either way, it can't hurt to give it a try right?

I'm also doing as much as I can think of to keep my stress levels low. I've even been hiding out at my parents house for the past few days. They have a giant bath tub, home cooked meals, plenty of CC distraction, a really comfortable guest bed and most importantly, no crazy dog to wrangle, piles of laundry to fold, or messy house to contend with. I will have to eventually go back home, but I'm not looking forward to it all that much. If they lived within a reasonable distance to his preschool I think I'd never leave.

My everyday strategy is to just drop anything that makes my heart race like it's a hot potato. Topics, situations, tasks, people... For now, the only things that I'm allowing myself to really care deeply about are my kids. I'd worry about that being selfish, but I'm not allowing myself to. 

It's an interesting experiment for me - as it definitely goes against my usual habits. I'm used to buzzing around like a bee, worrying about deadlines and people's feelings, and that sort of thing. Not to mention the constant stress many of us have been under for the past year - just waiting for the sky to fall or for our society to crumble. I should probably block Facebook from my computer and phone if I REALLY want to cut stress. CNN news alerts too. 

I hate to be that person with my head in the sand, but if that's what it takes to get these two babies into the world, then so be it. Just call me Mama Ostrich.

Any other good ideas for lowering stress? I think spending more time outside might help, and perhaps unplugging my phone more often. What do you do to relax your mind and body? Kindly leave some wisdom in the comments.

Eight Weeks Down

I had my eight week scan this morning. It was my first time back to my maternal fetal specialist since the last loss, which was, as expected, pretty nerve wracking. Just being in a place where I've lost three babies brought back all kinds of feelings and memories - none of which I enjoy digging up. Waiting for the ultrasound was pretty much torture. By the time the nurse found the second heartbeat I was in tears. Despite the relief of seeing both babies intact I just couldn't shake the fear I was feeling.

I had to run to the bathroom, between the outside and the inside scan. (Full bladders and internal ultrasounds don't mix.) My steps were shaky. My head was dizzy. I cried some more.

Later, my doctor came in to go over the scan's results. It was sort of a good news - bad news discussion. We'll start with good news. Both twins had heartbeats. Both twins are in there right now safe and sound.

That's not all. I found out that the twins are the lowest risk variety - fraternal D-type wins. That means they are each in their own yolk sac and developing their own individual placentas. That means that if something were to happen to one twin (at least at this point) it would not affect the safety of the other.

More good news: The larger of the two babies looks perfect. Baby A, who we have been calling Niji (Japanese for rainbow) is measuring at 7 weeks and 5 days, which is right on target for the 8 week point. My doctor told me that Baby A has a 99% chance of success from this point on. Those are pretty wonderful odds to hear - although part of me struggles to find comfort in the number when I've seen things go wrong even after this point.

The bad news is that Baby B, who we have been calling Bebe, has a lower chance of success. He is measuring at 7 weeks 3 days, which is just on the low end of the target growth wise. His heartbeat sounded strong and was close to the rate of Baby A, but between his smaller size, smaller sac, and general statistics, my doctor wanted me to understand that this baby still might not stick. There is a 15% chance that sometime within the next three weeks Baby B will fade away due to something called Vanishing Twin Syndrome. 

Our next big scan is scheduled for November 30. By then, Baby B will have either caught up or checked out. My doctor's advice was to try and relax, accept that this is out of my hands, and see what happens next. It's good advice, but easier said than done!

As easy as it would be to focus on that 15% chance of failure for Baby B, I'm going to try and keep that other 85% in my heart while we wait for the next scan. It's going to be a very long 3 weeks, but I'm going to do my best to stay positive, keep it cool, and rest both my mind and my body as much as I can.

If everything goes right, and both babies are still a-ok on the 30th, I'll get a whole special laundry list of instructions and restrictions for twin pregnancy. My doctor decided that we didn't need to get into it for now - as it is apparently quite a lot to take in. 

I was grateful to put that off. Anything potentially stressful is not super welcome right now. My emotional skin is just about as thin as possible right now. Tears come easy - both happy and sad. I'm so tired most days that I can barely function. Headaches, body aches, heartburn, and a whole bunch of really fun digestive issues are also making life interesting right now.

If there's anything I've learned so far from being pregnant with twins it is the value of regularity. 

I'll check in with y'all again soon. If I crack under the anxiety and get a scan between now and the 30th, I'll be sure and let you know what happens. I'm rooting for Baby B. Thanks for doing the same.

Babies.

I held my breath as the scan began. Our nurse wiggled the doppler around to reveal a great big yolk sac with a tiny little bean shape inside. 

"The baby looks great!", she says.

For a split second I feel two things - happiness that this first baby is still healthy, and devastation over not seeing the second. 

"Oops.", she says. "The BABIES look great."

"Babies?!", I gasp - almost not daring to believe it.

"Babies.", she smiles, as she wiggles the doppler around to reveal the second little one.

There are two little babies in there and they both measured within normal limits and had nice sounding heartbeats. I am officially pregnant with twins. There's no halfway, no 1.5, no downplaying the miracle taking place in my midsection.

Of course, we are not out of the woods by a long shot. At 7 weeks we have at least another 7 to go before I will start feeling secure that these two little blueberries are sticking around. I'm hopeful though, and as long as I can lay my eyes on them once a week until they get nice and sturdy, I think I'll be able to make it through the first trimester with my sanity mostly intact. 

I can't say the same for my digestive system! But it's a small price to pay for the double rainbow dangling in front of me. If this really happens, I will feel like the luckiest person in the world. 

Come on babies!!! You can do it!!!

Double the Fun

I've been dragging my feet about writing this post. I spent the last week or so just trying to process what I'm about to share, and then decided to keep the news close to the vest until I was sure it was really happening.  

But over the past six days so many feelings have bubbled up inside this heart of mine that I feel in danger of explosion if some of the pressure isn't vented off. So here goes.

I'm pregnant... with TWINS.

I had my six week viability scan last Friday and was treated to the surreal sight of TWO gestational sacs. While I can't say I was completely surprised, I was still shocked - if that makes any sense. So far, this pregnancy has been the most intense I have ever experienced. I am sick. I am tired. I have a rash. My digestive system has gone on strike. I am either starving or close to puking at all times and I can barely stay awake. It's crazy, but easily explained by the fact that my body is pumping twice the usual amount of HCG into my system.

Last week one of the babies measured right up to date and had a nice clear heartbeat. The other was in a smaller sac that was too close to the uterus wall to get a good look or a good listen. The nurse explained to me that sometimes that smaller baby will catch up and sometimes it won't. We'll find out tomorrow how my little short stack did this week. As scary as twins are in some ways, I want both babies - more than I could ever express in words. I'm trying to be realistic and not get carried away by the idea of twins, but it's hard. I love them both already. I can't help it.

I guess that's why I have been dragging my feet about sharing the news. I had it in my head that I didn't know if it really was twins yet. I've been under-selling it to myself. I'm pregnant, with POSSIBLE twins. I'm pregnant, with 1.5 babies, etc. 

But the truth is I am very much pregnant with twins. My body knows this, and is acting accordingly. The question, as always, is whether I will stay pregnant with twins, or pregnant at all. 

I didn't think it was possible to worry about a pregnancy more than I already was - but now there are two little sparks taking hold of my heart, two little blueberry sized babies that I am one hundred percent in love with despite all my attempts at caution.

I want these babies. I want them so much it hurts.

I'll know more tomorrow. How I will survive the wait is hard to tell. 

Think sticky thoughts friends, and send help. I have never been so tired in my entire life.

Five Weeks

We've made it through the first week of pregnancy (that I have actually been aware of) and while I don't want to jinx myself, I have to say I'm feeling good. That is, I'm feeling awful, which I feel great about. Haha.

My HCG levels have been very high and are continuing to climb. I was actually so unused to only having to get TWO quantitive blood tests that I couldn't relax until insisting on doing a third. Each time I've tested at the upper limits of what is normal for a singleton pregnancy which means there is a very real chance that there are two babies in here.

While I would be thrilled to have two babies (really, I would be), I am worried about the added risks that carrying twins would incur. We're already in a rather dicey situation, after all. I have zero control either way, so I am doing my best to just go with the flow and see what happens. 

Another thing that makes me suspicious of twins is how sick I am, and how quickly I became so. The hormones hit me like a ton of bricks as soon as we started approaching the two week post-ovulation mark. I am alternating between feeling intensely nauseous and trembling with hunger. Exhaustion hits me constantly. I am crying over Instagram photos and snapping at everyone so much that CC called me out on it last night. 

"This is not being loving, Mama. This is being MAD."

Boy, he gets right to the point. I hear you, buddy and I'll try harder to keep my cool from now on.

Scott was a little shocked to hear that I had shared the pregnancy here on my baby blog but had not told anyone in our families yet. I guess I sort of feel like the rules have changed when it comes to us and babies. It's not a secret, but it's not really news yet. I MIGHT have a baby many many many months from now, or I MIGHT have another tragedy on my hands at any day. It's just too much drama for me to wear on my sleeve, I guess.

If it comes up in conversation, or I feel moved to tell someone about it, I do. But I'm not making any big announcements, or even sharing these blog updates to Facebook yet because while I do find value in sharing this story, I don't think I'm ready to talk to the whole wide world about it just yet.

I do feel VERY pregnant though, and surprisingly at peace with everything. At least for now. That last HCG test helped, as do the constant physical reminders of early pregnancy, AND knowing that I am on every possible medication and practicing every reasonable precaution I can be. The rest is simply up to destiny. It's either a healthy combination of genetics or it's not, and there isn't a damn thing I can do to effect its outcome.

Yes, I'm definitely surprised at this level of peace. I expected myself to be a nervous wreck every step of the way. I HAVE had my moments, and no doubt, I will have more, but I think the truth is that I love being pregnant so much that it helps displace the fear and the anxiety to some degree. I can FEEL this baby, more so than the last two, and while I can't put my finger on exactly what makes me say that, it's true.

I love this baby. I don't know how long I will have with him, or if I'll ever get the chance to really know him. But for now, he's here, he's mine, and he's safe. I hope that I can remember those things and enjoy his presence for as long as I am able. 

Maybe I'm finally getting to a place where I can believe that it was better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. Twoleo, the baby I lost after CC, weighs the heaviest on my heart because he also felt real to me. I loved him, however briefly, and it has been hard to ask myself whether or not I was glad he had been conceived at all. 

Today, finally, more than two years after losing him, I think I know the answer. I'm glad that he existed, and that I had the chance to love him, even if it means I'll have to miss him for the rest of my life. Once again, motherhood has taught me to understand the true depth of real love. It exists without reward or expectation. It does not require consent or acknowledgement. Like the spark of life, love comes into being shrouded in mystery and fueled by the sheer determination of mother nature.

To all my babies, here and there, I love you.

Two Little Lines

There was a time when seeing these two little pink lines meant that I was having a baby. Instead, they now mean that I MIGHT have a baby. They could even mean I'll have two. Time will tell. If the last two days between HCG tests have been any indication, time will also be crawling.

In two weeks I'll be seeing my fertility specialist for an ultrasound. They will check for a heartbeat, take a look at the gestational sack and uterine lining. That is, if all goes well. If not, they will poke around for a while, suddenly going from chatty to silent, and then let me know that the doctor will be in soon. I'll swear. I'll cry. The doctor will tell me what I already know, and then I'll make choices about how to proceed.

That's what I'm afraid will happen - two weeks from now, four weeks from now, at any point between now and the birth of a healthy child. For the next however long, I'll be nervous about picking things up, bending over, or any shadow of pain or hint of wetness that I might encounter.

Still, I'm grateful for the chance. I'm grateful for the tiny cluster of cells (or two) that is currently multiplying in my abdomen. I hope it sticks. I hope it becomes a fetus, then a baby, then an infant, a toddler, a child, and tween, teen, adult, parent, grandparent... I have a lot of wishes for the little blob of potential growing in my belly.

I could play the game of let's not get attached, but I know it's a useless fight. I am, and will forever be, attached.

Right now, everything looks good. My HCG is at healthy level and climbing. In fact, I've never seen such a dark line appear on a pregnancy test before. The last two pregnancies had very low HCG early on. The first never climbed high enough to surpass chemical pregnancy. The second climbed super slowly but appeared healthy until it faded away around 7 weeks. 

Lots of HCG is good. Very good. Good enough to keep me sane for the next two weeks while I wait for an ultrasound? FAT CHANCE.

Haha. If you need me I'll be climbing the walls.

Miracles

Thank you for the prayers. Last Tuesday we had been given the results of my latest hcg levels along with a seriously pessimistic opinion on the outcome of this pregnancy. I had a good cry and the next day called the high risk specialist to cancel our appointment. The nurse surprised me by insisting that I come in anyway just so they could take a look and make sure they agreed with my OBGYN.

Scott came with me, and as we sat in the office waiting for the scan we started to talk about what our next step would be. More tears.

We had our scan, and then the doctor came in. Seemingly oblivious to our perspective on things, he began to cheerfully explain how much he liked the looks of the yolk sac, my uterus, etc. I actually had to stop him and ask him if we were still having a baby. Oh yes we were, and there it was on the screen for us to see. The catch? This baby was approximately one week younger than our OBGYN thought it should be based on my last period.

That and my hcg levels weren't increasing at the most typical rate. He basically called that all a bunch of horse manure, and told me that as long as everything looked good in our viability scan the following week, and I took my medications along with a nice big dose of progesterone until about 14 weeks, we had no reason to think it wouldn't proceed as a usual pregnancy.

I was in shock, and I think I've been holding my breath ever since.

We just came from our viability scan and I am overwhelmed with joy and gratitude. Our little spark has a heartbeat, is positioned well in the uterus, and everything appears to be in great shape. Our little embryo is still quite tiny, but shows all of the good signs for a healthy pregnancy.

They come in all shapes and sizes. This Christmas ours will be about the size of a lentil.

 

So many feelings! Of course, we still have a long way to go before we can truly breath easy, but right now I am feeling surprisingly calm and confident. I wasn't able to see either of my last pregnancies, or the one that I lost as a very young woman, so going for the scans has been extremely reassuring.

The rest, I suppose, is just a matter of faith. When I was pregnant with CC I started bleeding heavily around 8 weeks. I was terrified. Thankfully, we had been working with a fertility doctor at the time who was very proactive and asked us to come in and have a scan done right away. We could see the baby sitting perfectly happily in the uterus, but above him there was a large blood clot.

My doctor explained that as the blood clot dissolved and passed through my uterus there was a chance that the baby would pass along with it. Or, he said, the clot could pass or be reabsorbed by my body without interfering with the baby at all. We simply had to wait and see what would happen. Around 14 weeks the chances of the clot endangering the baby would drop significantly. Until then, I was put on bed rest.

I spent the first week of waiting in utter agony, but eventually I knew I had to make a decision. I could either spend the next six weeks expecting the worst or I could make a decision to have faith and expect my baby to be OK. I chose the latter, but it wasn't always easy to do.

Deciding to have faith and moving forward with optimism is one of those things that is certainly easier said than done. It isn't just a matter of denying or burying your fears, but embracing the best possible outcome instead. Someone once told me that fear is healthy only as long as it serves you. I've found that acknowledging my fear is helpful, but surrendering to it is not.

Knowing this to be true, why is fear such a hard thing to let go of? Maybe I think I can protect myself from the pain of disappointment if I focus on fear instead of hope. Maybe fear itself is just too distracting to ignore completely. Either way, the struggle for mastering fear can be a tough one.

Right now I'm walking on sunshine though, and I'm going to try and keep that feeling going for as long as I can.

I'll be seeing the high risk specialist every 2 weeks for a while, just so we can check in and I can have some peace of mind by way of ultrasound. He said that it wasn't strictly necessary to come in so often, but he wanted me to be able to get some reassurance as often as I needed it. I was all about that plan.

Faith is a wonderful thing, but adding a little reassurance to the mix can't hurt.

Save

Step One

Scott and I have been trying to conceive since early July, and I had begun to feel pretty discouraged and fed up with the process. I've been taking supplements (maca root, selenium and mthfr friendly vitamins), avoiding sugar (mostly), and using progesterone oil during my luteal phase for several months now. The progesterone and maca seem to make me gain weight, despite being semi-faithful to my diet, and the extra hormones had been playing holy hell on my mood. When I saw yet another negative test this month I was seriously bummed out. 

I nearly skipped taking the second test 3 days later. What was the point? I wondered. The progesterone oil was making me sick and I couldn't wait to stop using the stuff and get on with my next cycle. Still, the test was scheduled on my fertility calendar and according to my own rules I wasn't supposed to stop using the oil until I'd taken at least two tests.

After a day's debate, I ran out to the pharmacy and got myself another test - just because I wanted to remain faithful to my routine. I was shocked when a second, very faint line appeared on the stick. I had a positive!

My first round of HCG levels were low, and the second didn't multiply as expected. I waited through the weekend for a third test that would take place on Monday. I must have become quite the pessimist because I really just assumed that it was over at that point - a chemical pregnancy perhaps. But then the results came back with good news. My levels had started to grow more quickly which is very encouraging.

Still, after losing two pregnancies since C's birth I know better than to start picking out baby names just yet. I've been trying to keep my feelings in check by thinking of this as a pregnancy and not a baby - at least not yet. We've dubbed the little lentil (that's how big it is right now) Potential-Leo, and we're doing everything we can think of to try and keep it going.

We have another HCG test on Tuesday, and that will tell us a lot. If the upward HCG trend continues than the pregnancy has a chance of viability. If not...

I kept all of my previous pregnancies secret during the first trimester. I suppose I was worried that telling people would jinx it or that I didn't feel like I could handle sharing such a vulnerable part of myself with the world. This time I've decided to call on all the strength at my disposal, even if it means putting myself out there a little past my comfort level.

In the past, before C, while I was struggling with infertility, I asked the readers of my blog to pray for our baby. C managed to soldier through a fair bit of adversity on his way into the world, so I'm thinking that those prayers really helped us out.

I don't know what will happen next - whether or not this pregnancy will take, or if this story will have a happy ending, but I'd like to ask you to say a prayer for us and our little lentil. Please send us your good vibes, your hopes, your prayers, and your positive energy.

I'll let you know what happens.