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June 15, 2009

Week From Hell Revisited

So, as you know, on Thursday, May 28 we found out the news that the pregnancy was "no longer viable" (doctor speak). But what happened the week following that when I pretty much maintained radio silence? Inquiring minds want to know. Well, whether they do or not, I'm going to share anyway. And beware. It can get icky.

Friday
Busy day scheduled, even before all hell broke loose. We were having new carpet installed in the hallway, stairs and what was supposed to be the baby's room. (We didn't cancel because whether or not there was a baby, the carpet needed to be replaced). Plus, Dylan had an ENT doctor appointment, so Uncle Mike came over to "work from home" and baby-sit the carpet people so I could bring Dylan to the doctor. Plus, my cough was getting worse so I had to go to the doctor. Dylan's doctor went well, but then at my doctor I noticed blood where there should not be blood, and it was a weird color. The doctor down at RWJ said I could still go to Sesame Place (my main concern at this point), since it was pretty much the same distance from RWJ – where I was to go if I went into labor – as my house. Of course, if my water broke or I went into labor, then Sesame Place was off. My primary care doctor prescribed me with stronger antibiotics, steroids to help the inflammation in my chest and cough syrup with codeine. We had planned to spend the night at a hotel closer to Sesame Place, partly to decrease the commute on Saturday morning and partly to avoid the smell of new carpet which would aggravate my already aggravated lungs. We went as planned, and after taking the codeine syrup, I had one of the best night's sleep I had in weeks. Waking up to kisses from Dylan was nice too.

Saturday
Sesame Place Day One! Dylan had a blast riding all the rides with Daddy. I spent the day relocating from bench to bench. I started taking the steroid at each meal and when I took it, it would make me nauseous. It got so bad that after dinner (where I managed to only eat a hot dog), I started throwing up. We decided to forego Day Two and save our second day ticket for another time when I would feel better.

Sunday
Supposed to be Sesame Place Day Two. Instead we had breakfast at the hotel and went home. I was still throwing up so I decided to stop taking the steroid, which helped. I started to feel better, but was still coughing really bad.

Monday
Still coughing. Still nauseous, but not throwing up. Stayed home from work because I did not feel like walking around work all pregnant and dealing with people. The day wasn't bad until about 1:00 in the morning when I had to go to the ER because after 2 nebulizer treatments I still couldn't breathe. They gave me another treatment at the ER and took chest x-rays – which came back clean – and sent me home with a prescription for nebulizer treatments (since I had been using Dylan's).

Tuesday
Still coughing and having trouble breathing, and now throwing up as well. Begged Darren to stay home from work because I thought I was going to die. Went back to my primary doctor and begged for the anti-nausea shot and Xanax. (Well, didn't beg for Xanax, because then they won't give it to you, but rather said that I was anxious about the upcoming procedure and that could be contributing to all the puking and coughing). Doctor did not give me anti-nausea shot because he said the nausea could be masking another problem and if it continued, I should mention it the next day when I went for the beginning of the procedure. Gave me Xanax, which actually helped with the nausea and puking. I was still coughing though.

Wednesday
Hauled into the city to have the first part (the "D") done. This is the part where they insert matchstick-sized things called ?laminaria? into you and they come out ziti-sized, and in the process, dilate your cervix. I got two match sticks. It wasn't so bad. It hurt a little, and tickled a little. The doctor agreed with my assessment that my cervix was the Cervix of Steel. We went home and I had Tylenol with codeine to alternate with ibuprofen for the pain. Between that, the Xanax and the heating pad, it wasn't all that bad. Except for all the coughing and waking up in the middle of the night thinking I was in labor because of the cramps. (It was seriously so bad I called the doctor). I didn't get much sleep between the cramps and the coughing and the nebulizer treatments.

Thursday
Back into the city for day two of "D." This time it did not hurt a little. It did not tickle at all. It hurt a lot. Happily, the Cervix of Steel had met its match in the ?laminaria? and had dilated a bit. Unhappily, this caused it to be Very Angry and cause me a lot of pain during the insertion of the ten matchsticks the doctor inserted, even with the numbing stuff she put on and the shot she gave me. The ride home was horrible – I had terrible cramps. Once I got home and could put on my heating pad it wasn't as bad but it still hurt. Plus, whenever I coughed, I could feel my cervix move and was afraid the stupid things were going to fall out. I could avoid this by crossing my legs really tight whenever I coughed. (I managed, somehow, to keep them in until the next morning at the hospital).

Friday
We had to leave at 4:30 to be in the city at the hospital at 6:00. This was not a problem, since I was up since 2:30 coughing and stressing. Aunt Kristie came over to hang out until Dylan woke up and take him to school. (And as I said to my MIL when she asked if I had thanked Aunt Kristie, anyone who comes over my house at 4:15 in the morning is a saint). On the drive to the hospital my coughing was so bad I was trying to count 10 breaths between coughs. (Sometimes I only made it to 7 or 8). We got to the hospital a half hour early (there is no bridge traffic at 5:30 am) and I had to sit in the waiting room coughing and cramping until they were ready for me. I went in to pre-op and coughed out 8 of my 10 now ziti-sized matchsticks. Other than that, the pre-op was somewhat uneventful. They put in my IV and determined that I would not get general anesthesia because of my cough and the wheeze they heard in my chest. This was fine with me. So once I got into the OR, they gave me some happy medicine in my IV before they gave me the spinal. Let me tell you, a spinal is way easier when you've got happy medicine in your IV. The worst part of the procedure was my mouth. It was so dry I could barely talk. That, and after about 40 minutes the happy medicine started to wear off and I got bored. But it was over not too long after that and they wheeled me into recovery. I could move my feet right away (which I showed everyone who came into the room because I remembered from having Dylan that they all wanted to see my feet move before I was allowed out of recovery). They released me into post-op where I got to drink juice and eat muffins. Aside from the nurse in post-op giving me a completely inappropriate lecture about me being an adult and not letting Dylan see me upset, it was not bad at all. Physically, I mean. The cough was almost non-existent after surgery and I didn't feel heavy and weighed down. The cramps were gone. It was time to start healing. This whole ordeal was almost behind us, which brings us to today.

Today, we will be burying our son, Evan James, who never got a chance in this world. (I say "will be" because right now, it's about 11:00 and I'm sitting at Ford, typing this in Word and waiting for Darren's car to be done with its tune-up, but the burial is at 1:00 so by the time I post this, the burial will probably be over). I'm not even sure what else to say about that, because nothing I can say, no words, can possibly convey the feelings surrounding this whole thing. The advice given to parents of stillborn babies doesn't apply – I was never able to hold him, or take a footprint or handprint or lock of hair, or even see him, for that matter. The advice given to people who choose to abort doesn't apply – I didn't choose for this to happen. The advice given to people who miscarry doesn't apply, since I didn't have a miscarriage. So I have nothing, except a few memories of how he used to push at me insistently when I was in a position he didn't like. Or how he would reach at the ultrasound wand during the many ultrasounds I had. Or the last time I remember feeling him, the Sunday after Dylan's birthday party. Dylan and Darren went outside to play with Dylan's new skates and I was sitting on the chair in the living room, looking at pictures on the camera. My hands were resting on my belly, and wherever I put my hands he would kick, which would bounce the camera. And I remember crying because it was so hard to feel him kick and know he might not be ok. But it was even harder a few days later when I realized I could no longer feel him kick. That's all I have. It is time to heal now, but I think it's going to take a while.

Posted by Terri at 01:41 PM | Comments (5)

June 11, 2009

What's In A Name?

It is frustrating. His name is not "Baby Boy" or "Male" or "Fetus." Apparently no medical people care about your baby's name when he does not survive. Of course, thinking back, I don't think the medical people care much about your baby's name even when he does survive. I recall a lot of stuff for Dylan saying "Baby Boy." I remember during the C-section after he was born I kept asking Darren, "Can we tell people his name now? Can we tell people now?" I'm never sure when the right time is. Now even more than then. At least I told the funeral director his name so it will be on record at the cemetary. I will put it here eventually, but not now. Saying (or writing) his name makes me even more sad because it makes him even more of a real person.

Posted by Terri at 05:00 PM | Comments (2)

June 09, 2009

Still Here

So apparently my boobs did not get the memo that there is no baby for whom to produce milk. Either that or they're 3 years late. On the positive side of this, I have a great rack right now.

Obviously, I survived the procedure/surgery. I'll write about that eventually. I just don't feel like it right now. I'm off for the next two weeks, so maybe I'll get to it soon.

Oh, and my feet are all swollen now too. Joy.

Posted by Terri at 10:03 AM | Comments (3)

June 02, 2009

Just Trying To Get Through The Days

Went to ER last night - couldn't breathe. Put on Nebulizer treatment.
Went to PCP today - throwing up all day. He wouldn't give me the awesome anti-nausea shot, in case the nausea is indicative of another problem. But I got Xanax, so I'm feeling a little better.
Tomorrow is the beginning of the end. The first "D" of the D&C or D&E, depending on who you talk to. I would be lying if I said I wasn't terrified. Well, as terrified as you can get when you're stoned on Xanax.

Posted by Terri at 05:56 PM | Comments (2)