THE Question: Do you have any kids yet?
Recently I was volunteering with some people I haven't seen in a while. I was catching up with one who I was pretty sure did not know our story. I danced around the subject of children as much as I could - focusing on where we were working now and joking about old times. I was so afraid that he would ask the dreaded question, but luckily we did not have a lot of time to talk so the question did not come up.
Also during this volunteering session, I saw an old roommate from a distance. She was there with her young son. I turned my face away as much as I could to avoid her recognizing me because I was afraid that she would introduce me to her son and ask if I had any children yet.
The problem is: how do you answer that question? There are three choices: no, yes, or yes, but they are in heaven. If you say no, you feel guilty for denying your children, but avoid any further uncomfortable conversation. If you say simply yes, you open yourself up to more questions (how many, how old, etc.). And if you say "yes, but they are in heaven", the mood of the conversation totally changes and both parties are likely uncomfortable: the other person doesn't know what to say, you just want to move on to the next topic.
I have read as well as heard from many people that it really does not get easier. This seemingly innocent question will always be hard to answer: how do you handle strangers asking the question? Do you tell people about your loss when you first meet them? If not, when do you tell them?
I have yet to be asked this question, but I dread the day that it happens. I'm not sure yet how I will respond. I guess it will depend on who asks it and the situation we are in at the time. Only time will tell...
Friday, September 16, 2011
The D&C
The week after the walk I started bleeding heavily. I called my doctor and she told me it was probably just my first period after the pregnancy. She said it was nothing to worry about as long as the bleeding didn't get worse. But then it did...
The next morning I called my doctor's office at 8. They didn't open until 8:30 that day, so I called the on call number. Before I even explained my problem, the woman who answered the phone asked if it was an emergency. I tried to explain that it wasn't life threatening, but I did need to talk to someone. She said if it was not an emergency I needed to wait until the doctor's office opened a half hour later and call them. I reluctantly agreed and waited a half hour.
I called the doctor's office exactly at 8:30 and left a message for the doctor to call back. At noon, I still hadn't heard anything, so I called back. They told me that the message was on the top of the stack on her desk and she would call me back as soon as she could. Finally at 3:30, I got a call back. The doctor suggested that I make an appointment for the next day. The only doctor available at the time was one I had never seen before.
The next day, the doctor was not able to determine anything at the appointment, so she asked if I would wait around for the ultrasound machine to become available so that they could see what was going on. I waiting in the waiting room and watched a couple of happy couples go in for ultrasounds to see their babies. Then finally they were ready for me. One of the worst parts of the whole experience was laying there looking at a baby-less uterus. They did however discover leftover tissue and suggested that I have a D&C the same day. The doctor on call at the hospital happened to be the same doctor who had delivered Caiden and Kaylie a month earlier.
When I talked to the doctor before the surgery, I told him that I was supposed to leave for New York City the next morning. The day before Caiden and Kaylie were born, we were supposed to be at a baseball game. Since I was lying in the hospital, we were unable to go. The team had generously offered us four free tickets to any game in May to make up for the game we missed, but the upcoming weekend was the last opportunity for us to use the vouchers. The doctor said we would see how the surgery went, but if everything went okay, I could go on the trip as long as I promised to carry my cell phone with me at all times and know how to contact the nearest hospital.
When preparing for the surgery, the nurse asked for my weight to determine the amount of anesthesia needed. The last time I had been weighed was at my 20 week appointment, so I had no idea what to tell her. I made a guess and she asked how sure I was. I said "not very". (It turns out I was very generous with the amount of weight I thought I had lost, though I didn't find that out until a month and a half later when my doctor's office weighed me again.) The anesthesiologist came over and the nurse asked if he wanted to run any blood tests. He said "no, she looks nice and pink to me". I'm sure that he was very good at his job, but it was frightening how flippant he was being.
When the OR was ready for me, they tried to reach my doctor. He had told them he was going into a meeting and they should call him on his cell phone when the OR was ready, but then he turned off his cell phone. They ended up paging him over the hospital intercom. Meanwhile, I was trying to reach my husband who was still at work because I wasn't supposed to go in for surgery for another couple hours (another reason the anesthesiologist's flippant attitude terrified me, since they told me I couldn't go in for surgery until after 5 because I had eaten breakfast, and now they were ready to take me in at 3). I started crying and told them I couldn't go anywhere until my husband arrived. Luckily he only works just down the road from the hospital, and he arrived before they found the doctor.
In the end, they removed the "residual products of conception" and I came out of the surgery just fine. We left for New York City the next morning and had a very nice and totally uncomplicated trip. I carried my cell phone and the phone number of the nearest hospital with me, but never needed to use either.
The next morning I called my doctor's office at 8. They didn't open until 8:30 that day, so I called the on call number. Before I even explained my problem, the woman who answered the phone asked if it was an emergency. I tried to explain that it wasn't life threatening, but I did need to talk to someone. She said if it was not an emergency I needed to wait until the doctor's office opened a half hour later and call them. I reluctantly agreed and waited a half hour.
I called the doctor's office exactly at 8:30 and left a message for the doctor to call back. At noon, I still hadn't heard anything, so I called back. They told me that the message was on the top of the stack on her desk and she would call me back as soon as she could. Finally at 3:30, I got a call back. The doctor suggested that I make an appointment for the next day. The only doctor available at the time was one I had never seen before.
The next day, the doctor was not able to determine anything at the appointment, so she asked if I would wait around for the ultrasound machine to become available so that they could see what was going on. I waiting in the waiting room and watched a couple of happy couples go in for ultrasounds to see their babies. Then finally they were ready for me. One of the worst parts of the whole experience was laying there looking at a baby-less uterus. They did however discover leftover tissue and suggested that I have a D&C the same day. The doctor on call at the hospital happened to be the same doctor who had delivered Caiden and Kaylie a month earlier.
When I talked to the doctor before the surgery, I told him that I was supposed to leave for New York City the next morning. The day before Caiden and Kaylie were born, we were supposed to be at a baseball game. Since I was lying in the hospital, we were unable to go. The team had generously offered us four free tickets to any game in May to make up for the game we missed, but the upcoming weekend was the last opportunity for us to use the vouchers. The doctor said we would see how the surgery went, but if everything went okay, I could go on the trip as long as I promised to carry my cell phone with me at all times and know how to contact the nearest hospital.
When preparing for the surgery, the nurse asked for my weight to determine the amount of anesthesia needed. The last time I had been weighed was at my 20 week appointment, so I had no idea what to tell her. I made a guess and she asked how sure I was. I said "not very". (It turns out I was very generous with the amount of weight I thought I had lost, though I didn't find that out until a month and a half later when my doctor's office weighed me again.) The anesthesiologist came over and the nurse asked if he wanted to run any blood tests. He said "no, she looks nice and pink to me". I'm sure that he was very good at his job, but it was frightening how flippant he was being.
When the OR was ready for me, they tried to reach my doctor. He had told them he was going into a meeting and they should call him on his cell phone when the OR was ready, but then he turned off his cell phone. They ended up paging him over the hospital intercom. Meanwhile, I was trying to reach my husband who was still at work because I wasn't supposed to go in for surgery for another couple hours (another reason the anesthesiologist's flippant attitude terrified me, since they told me I couldn't go in for surgery until after 5 because I had eaten breakfast, and now they were ready to take me in at 3). I started crying and told them I couldn't go anywhere until my husband arrived. Luckily he only works just down the road from the hospital, and he arrived before they found the doctor.
In the end, they removed the "residual products of conception" and I came out of the surgery just fine. We left for New York City the next morning and had a very nice and totally uncomplicated trip. I carried my cell phone and the phone number of the nearest hospital with me, but never needed to use either.
The Walk (and a new friend!)
I mentioned the walk and our success before. Here are the details of the walk and the beginning of my relationship with March of Dimes.
The day we got home from the hospital, I found out about the walk and started thinking about walking in it. After recruiting some family members to participate, I signed up about a week later. We formed our team and started fundraising.
About a week before the walk, the Family Teams coordinator at the local chapter of the March of Dimes called me. She was calling all team captains to find out why they were walking. I gave her a brief synopsis of our story. I also indicated that I was interested in volunteering with March of Dimes doing something behind the scenes. She suggested we meet after the walk to discuss.
For our team walkers, we ordered matching shirts online at the last minute. There were six shirts, four different sizes, all the same color. I paid extra for rush shipping to make sure that they arrived in time. What I received was five shirts, three different sizes and four different colors. I called to have the order corrected and they informed me that they could not have them here in time for the walk. In the end, I was able to buy shirts at a craft store and have a local jersey maker screen print the design (and I got a full refund for my online order, but was not required to return the shirts they sent). On the back of the shirts we printed the quote "they gave so much for being so little, but Angels always do".
On the day of the walk, everything was so overwhelming. I felt like we were newcomers to a group that had been getting together for years. (I don't know why I felt this way - it wasn't like we were on the outside of a big circle of friends, I think it was just my emotions.)
My husband had to be to work by noon and we were concerned about him making it on time, so we got to the front of the line and walked very quickly. At the start of the walk, a marching band lined the walkway and played music to kick off the walk. All of the emotions of the past few weeks, paired with all of the effort coming to a head, welled up inside me and spilled over in tears. I cried the first quarter mile or so.
After the walk, we gathered to eat the food that was donated. The Family Teams coordinator came over to meet us in person. She mentioned that there was another mother at the walk with a very similar story to mine. She had lost her son at 20 weeks and 2 days less than two weeks before we lost our twins. She suggested that I try to find the mother to connect with her. I did not find her before leaving, but I found a teammate of hers. We were later able to connect by e-mail. It turns out that we both used the same funeral home for our babies' funerals. We found a lot of similarities in our stories and comfort in each other.
The day we got home from the hospital, I found out about the walk and started thinking about walking in it. After recruiting some family members to participate, I signed up about a week later. We formed our team and started fundraising.
About a week before the walk, the Family Teams coordinator at the local chapter of the March of Dimes called me. She was calling all team captains to find out why they were walking. I gave her a brief synopsis of our story. I also indicated that I was interested in volunteering with March of Dimes doing something behind the scenes. She suggested we meet after the walk to discuss.
For our team walkers, we ordered matching shirts online at the last minute. There were six shirts, four different sizes, all the same color. I paid extra for rush shipping to make sure that they arrived in time. What I received was five shirts, three different sizes and four different colors. I called to have the order corrected and they informed me that they could not have them here in time for the walk. In the end, I was able to buy shirts at a craft store and have a local jersey maker screen print the design (and I got a full refund for my online order, but was not required to return the shirts they sent). On the back of the shirts we printed the quote "they gave so much for being so little, but Angels always do".
On the day of the walk, everything was so overwhelming. I felt like we were newcomers to a group that had been getting together for years. (I don't know why I felt this way - it wasn't like we were on the outside of a big circle of friends, I think it was just my emotions.)
My husband had to be to work by noon and we were concerned about him making it on time, so we got to the front of the line and walked very quickly. At the start of the walk, a marching band lined the walkway and played music to kick off the walk. All of the emotions of the past few weeks, paired with all of the effort coming to a head, welled up inside me and spilled over in tears. I cried the first quarter mile or so.
After the walk, we gathered to eat the food that was donated. The Family Teams coordinator came over to meet us in person. She mentioned that there was another mother at the walk with a very similar story to mine. She had lost her son at 20 weeks and 2 days less than two weeks before we lost our twins. She suggested that I try to find the mother to connect with her. I did not find her before leaving, but I found a teammate of hers. We were later able to connect by e-mail. It turns out that we both used the same funeral home for our babies' funerals. We found a lot of similarities in our stories and comfort in each other.
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