Baby Shetler - Redux

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.

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.

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.

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.

Uber Suckage Beyond All That Which Hath Sucketh Before

So the ultrasound confirmed my fears. Not my worst fears, because my worst fears included ending up with a child so severely disabled that we ended up like one of those families on Extreme Home Makeover whose houses are falling down around them and have no money and their child is dying and their other child is getting the shit end of the stick because of it. But Ty wouldn't come to my house and fix up my house all nice and send us all to Disneyland and we would just have to live with the suck. But anyway, where was I? Oh yes. There was no heartbeat on the ultrasound.

So thank you, everyone, for your kind words, and thoughts and prayers. It meant more than I can say that everyone was pulling for us. I now know what "walking around in a fog" means, because I've been doing it since yesterday afternoon. I'm not quite sure what to do with myself.

Oh, and then the suckiest of the suck is that the procedure to remove the baby is not until next Friday. So I get to walk around for a week all big and fat and pregnant (or not-pregnant - I'm not even sure what I'm considered now) with a dead baby inside me.

What the hell was I depressed for last time?

Oh, and today's Darren and my tenth anniversary. Happy anniversary to us.

23 Weeks 1 Day

Nothing new to report. Still haven't felt the baby. Having bad cramps but can't tell if they're intestinal or baby-related. And today I feel sick to my stomach. Not sure if it is the lack of sleep, the stress, or all the goop dripping down from my nose and sinuses.

Edit: Hee hee - Just re-read and had to edit because it said, "Having bad craps." That would have been funny if I hadn't caught that. Well, at least I can still amuse myself. All it takes is potty humor.

23 Weeks, 0 Days

Followup at RWJ showed that the Teratoma grew from 7cm to 11cm in 2 weeks. This is not good. The heart also had the beginnings of fluid around it. We're going back to RWJ on Thursday and down to CHOP next Monday for a full workup and to talk to their people to see what our options are.

Oh, and I haven't really felt the baby kick since Sunday.

21 Weeks, 4 Days

Met the OB. He was nice, but older than I expected since they said he was friends with my OB and my OB is young. They did the BP/weight/urine/doppler thing and that was it. I think I scared the nurse away, but the doctor had read my chart and knew what was going on and just asked if I had any questions for him and I was like, "Not really."

And the doctor from St Clares called yesterday morning with the full results of the amnio and they're fine. She's awesome. I know they say she's the best in Morris County, but she's also really nice. Actually, everyone's been really nice. I guess they have to be, or else I may turn into Crazy-Stressed-Pregnant-Lady. I wonder if I could get a cape with that title.

21 Weeks, 2 Days

I get to meet my new OB tomorrow. Yay. Nothing else much is going on except I moved our vacation from the end of August to the July 4th weekend. Hopefully we'll be able to go. I'm not sure since it's still 7 weeks away. (In case you can't tell I'm a little nervous about premature labor or something going wrong where they have to take the baby early). Keep your fingers crossed.

Then we have another appointment at RWJ next Friday and another fetal echo the Tuesday after. More updates after that.

21 Weeks, 1 Day

Ok, close your eyes and pretend with me for a minute that I have a normal pregnancy and I'm not just eternally grateful that my baby is still alive and kicking. Ok? Got it? Normal pregnancy, normal baby. Ok, great.

I AM SO FREAKING MISERABLE!!!!!! OWWWWW!!!!! EVERYTHING FREAKING HURTS!!!!!!

Thank you. I now return you to your regularly scheduled, high-risk pregnancy.

20 Weeks, 6 Days

Yes, you read that right. I have re-adjusted my due date yet again. I have no idea when it is, so why should anyone else.

Thursday night we had our Fetal Echo at Morristown. The heart was well formed and had good function, but they couldn't get a picture of the pulminary arteries and the septum dropped off in the picture. The doctor said not to worry as this was common, but they wanted to see me back in a few weeks.

Friday we went to Robert Wood Johnson where I had another Ultrasound, a Fetal MRI and back again for another Ultrasound. After all that, they believe it is a Cervical Teratoma. There is good news and bad news:

Good News:
- the doctor I'm dealing with has managed 3 of these cases, 2 with excellent results and 1 with lesser results. In that case, the baby survived, but with brain damage and facial deformity, but his teratoma was growing into his brain.
- at this time, the heart is not straining and I do not have an excess of amniotic fluid
- they saw the pulminary arteries and they were formed fine
- there are not a lot of blood vessels going into the teratoma, so it may not grow fast

Bad News
- the teratoma is very large and at any time the baby's heart could start having probems
- the baby's mouth was not open at any time during the ultrasound. This could indicate that the teratoma is keeping him from being able to open his mouth and therefore, he will not be able to drink the amniotic fluid.

They want to see me again in 2 weeks, to continue to monitor how this is progressing. Best case scenario, if I make it to 36-37 weeks they will do an EXIT surgery on me at that point. In the meantime, they are monitoring to make sure the heart is ok and the fluid doesn't build up. If the fluid builds up, they can do a half-hour long amnio to remove fluid, which sounds like a joy. If the heart starts having trouble, then we have to assess whether the baby can be delivered at that time or if something else has to be done. I'm not quite sure what "something else" is, but there was talk about in-utero surgery.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I have my first OB appointment with my shiny new OB. I'm sure he's going to love me. "Hi, nice to meet you. By the way, you won't be delivering my baby, so just have fun taking my blood pressure and dopplering my stomach. Thanks."

So, I will leave you with a conversation we had getting into the car after dinner this Saturday at Friday's. Just to lighten things up a bit.

Me: I know I said I wasn't going to complain about pregnancy...
Darren: I'm sensing a big "but"
Me: Ha ha - yeah - that's my big but.
Darren: Mommy's got a big ol' butt.
Me: Oh yeah!
Dylan: (what sounds to me like) Mommy has a little butt.
Me: Aww! Dylan, I think that's one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me! Thank you for saying I have a little butt!
Dylan: I said Daddy. Daddy has a little butt.

This was very amusing to Darren.

21 Weeks, 3 Days

So, apparently the due date is a moot point, so I'll keep it where it is.

Got back the results of the amnio. There are no genetic defects and we're having a boy. So that's good, at least.

Tonight we have a fetal echocardiogram at Motown. Tomorrow we spend the day at Robert Wood Johnson getting ultrasounds and fetal MRI and talking to doctors.

I did more research on the internet, and apparently there is also this thing called Cystic Hygroma, which can be caused by chromosomal abnormalities (hence the amnio, I'm guessing), but doesn't have to be, and MRI is used to distinguish it from Cervical Teratoma. I'm not sure which is worse, it was difficult to tell. Basically, they both suck, so there you go. I eventually stopped reading stuff because it's better not to drive myself crazy until we talk to the doctors and have these tests. Besides, LOST was on last night and I had to read all the new theories about what happened on the show.

Anyway, I am still remaining hopeful. There is a chance of a healthy kid and that is what I'm holding on to. And I so miss whining about pregnancy. Life was so much more simple when I was complaining about how much I dislike being pregnant. (For the record, I still detest being pregnant, but I'm not complaining anymore).

21 Weeks, 1 Day?

Possibly incorrect, because my due date is anywhere from the 14-21. I have no clue. But that is not the worst of it.

Went for my "routine" 20 week ultrasound today. And by "routine" I mean, "ha ha ha ha - yeah right." We're having a boy. And we'll know for sure this time because I had an amnio also, but I'll get to that.

During the ultrasound, they detected an "abnormality" by the baby's neck. An abnormality that is roughly the size of the baby's whole head, if not bigger. The doctor (who is now acting as my doctor since my doctor is undergoing chemo and the new doctor doesn't know me from adam) says she thinks it is a Cervical Teratoma, which ends in -oma and sounds like cancer to me, but she says a lot of times they are benign.

Of course, I brought Dylan with me to the ultrasound so he could see the baby. Perfect.

So I called Darren, who was at work, and he came to the hospital and brought Dylan to school. I got an amnio, which was not as bad as I thought, but didn't feel like a blood test like they told me it would. It felt more like the spinal I had for my c-section, except in the belly instead of the spine. It was more upsetting and scary than painful. Then we had a 3D ultrasound and got to see the baby's face, which would have been cool had it not been for the circumstances.

And now we're waiting. I won't be delivering at the hospital where I had Dylan - so it is kind of a moot point that my doctor isn't able to deliver this baby. I have to have a c-section, like it or not (which is fine with me). We're waiting to hear from Morristown to schedule a baby EKG, because when they detect this kind of abnormality, they want to check the heart as well. Then the doctor is calling around to find out who does baby MRIs because we have to do that to determine what exactly this thing is and where exactly it is growing.

According to what I'm reading on the internet, "An uncommon tumor. More than 150 cases have been reported." One fifty?? Perfect. Why couldn't it be like, 5000 or something big where they take care of this a lot?

Anyway, that's that. I'm sure there will be more to come. I'm still waiting to wake up and find out this too is a dream, like the one where I had pre-eclampsia. I would so trade for that right now.

EDIT: "I don't want some stranger cutting me open in September." ... HA HA HA HA HA HA! Oh, that's funny now.

21 Weeks, 0 Days

Yay! More than halfway there!!!

I got to cross a few more things off the list. Daycare is taken care of. The baby will go to the same daycare Dylan started out at. The teachers were very excited about that, but disappointed that Dylan wasn't coming back. I had forgotten how much they loved him.

Registry - done. Although there are only like 3 things on it since we already have most everything.

Choosing names - done. But we are not sharing until the baby is born and named.

I'm feeling kicks now, although compared to Dylan's they are nothing. Thank goodness, because I think another crazy child would be too much.

I think I may go order birth announcements. I am that bored today.

Peace out.

19 Weeks, 3 Days

I am so bored with being pregnant. There is a big bottle of wine in my fridge and I want some. I want my Mountain Dew. I want to do real exercise. I want to diet. I want my body back. I don't want to be tired anymore. I want coffee. I want to purge my attic of all the crap that I'm keeping because I don't know if I'm having a boy or a girl. Oh, and also all the other baby crap that I'm holding onto because we'll need it in a few months. I want to be able to do work around the house like painting and building a rock wall. I want to go shopping for clothes in a regular, non-maternity store (because Old Navy has some really cute stuff).

Bleh. Cranky. Bloated. Tired. Blehness.

I am SO not the picture of happy glowy pregnantness.