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.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Feeling Powerless
When I got home from the hospital, I felt completely powerless. I had lost my babies and didn't know why. I now had at least two weeks off from work on disability leave and nothing to do. Before leaving the hospital, my mother and I had decided that we would make things (me hats and her quilts) to donate to the hospital in appreciation of the items that had been given to our babies.
Once at home, I did two things: I started looking into March of Dimes and I started knitting tiny hats. I found that March of Dimes had a walk coming up in less than a month, so I threw myself into that. It gave me something to put my energy into and I felt like I was making a difference because I was raising money to help prevent tragedies like ours. I recruited a few walkers and started posting for donations on facebook. Incredibly, in about three weeks, with only six walkers, we were able to raise over $1,800!!
During those few weeks, I did some knitting, but mostly focused on the walk. However, once the walk was over, I needed to take up something else to help take away the powerless feeling. I started doing more knitting and started talking to others about it. A lot of people who I told what I was doing were interested in participating too. I found that we would soon have more items to donate than we could use for just a one-time donation, so I started thinking about making ongoing donations and forming an organization to make it happen. I worked on the idea with a friend and that's how An Angel's Love was born.
Once at home, I did two things: I started looking into March of Dimes and I started knitting tiny hats. I found that March of Dimes had a walk coming up in less than a month, so I threw myself into that. It gave me something to put my energy into and I felt like I was making a difference because I was raising money to help prevent tragedies like ours. I recruited a few walkers and started posting for donations on facebook. Incredibly, in about three weeks, with only six walkers, we were able to raise over $1,800!!
During those few weeks, I did some knitting, but mostly focused on the walk. However, once the walk was over, I needed to take up something else to help take away the powerless feeling. I started doing more knitting and started talking to others about it. A lot of people who I told what I was doing were interested in participating too. I found that we would soon have more items to donate than we could use for just a one-time donation, so I started thinking about making ongoing donations and forming an organization to make it happen. I worked on the idea with a friend and that's how An Angel's Love was born.
The Verdict
The afternoon after the funeral, I received a call from my doctor's office. The doctor told me that they had received preliminary pathology results back and that both placentas showed signs of bacterial infection. I had a doctor's appointment scheduled for the following week and I should find out more then.
At the doctor's appointment the following week, the doctor went through each line of the pathology report with us. Essentially four things happened, any of them could have happened first and caused all of the others: (1) my cervix dilated, (2) the membranes ruptured (my water broke), (3) Kaylie's placenta abrupted (separated from the uterine wall), (4) a bacterial infection formed from bacteria normally present in the birth canal (but usually prevented from entering the uterus by the cervix). The doctor suggested that perhaps Kaylie's placenta abrupted first, then the blood clot that would have formed between the placenta and the uterine wall would have attracted the bacteria, but said that we would probably never know for sure what happened. He said that placental abruption is a rare occurance and having had it happen once does not make it more likely to happen again. He also noted that whatever happened was likely caused by the extra stress of carrying twins and that a singleton pregnancy would be likely to have no complications.
A couple months later, we decided to consult with a high risk obstetrician to see if they could provide any more insight, so that we would be well prepared when we were ready to try again. This doctor had the same pathology report, but suggested a different cause. She also said that we may never know exactly what happened, but "the good news is" that it almost certainly happened because we were having twins ("a woman's body is only made to carry one baby, it's not made to carry multiples") and that we would likely have no trouble with a singleton pregnancy. She suggested what may have happened was that the babies were growing too fast for my uterus to keep up and the pressure forced my cervix to open a tiny bit, thus allowing the bacteria to enter. Once the bacteria was inside the uterus, my body detected an infection and, in an effort to protect me, initiated labor. She recommended cervical measurements weekly from week 18 to 24 next time around.
At the doctor's appointment the following week, the doctor went through each line of the pathology report with us. Essentially four things happened, any of them could have happened first and caused all of the others: (1) my cervix dilated, (2) the membranes ruptured (my water broke), (3) Kaylie's placenta abrupted (separated from the uterine wall), (4) a bacterial infection formed from bacteria normally present in the birth canal (but usually prevented from entering the uterus by the cervix). The doctor suggested that perhaps Kaylie's placenta abrupted first, then the blood clot that would have formed between the placenta and the uterine wall would have attracted the bacteria, but said that we would probably never know for sure what happened. He said that placental abruption is a rare occurance and having had it happen once does not make it more likely to happen again. He also noted that whatever happened was likely caused by the extra stress of carrying twins and that a singleton pregnancy would be likely to have no complications.
A couple months later, we decided to consult with a high risk obstetrician to see if they could provide any more insight, so that we would be well prepared when we were ready to try again. This doctor had the same pathology report, but suggested a different cause. She also said that we may never know exactly what happened, but "the good news is" that it almost certainly happened because we were having twins ("a woman's body is only made to carry one baby, it's not made to carry multiples") and that we would likely have no trouble with a singleton pregnancy. She suggested what may have happened was that the babies were growing too fast for my uterus to keep up and the pressure forced my cervix to open a tiny bit, thus allowing the bacteria to enter. Once the bacteria was inside the uterus, my body detected an infection and, in an effort to protect me, initiated labor. She recommended cervical measurements weekly from week 18 to 24 next time around.
The Funeral
As soon as the doctor confirmed that my water had broken, we started making funeral plans. I was too overwhelmed to think about it much, but luckily I was surrounded by people who could.
My husband called a funeral home. At first, the only option they offered was cremation, but after we talked to the staff at the hospital who told us there was no reason we couldn't do a burial, we called the funeral home back and arranged for a burial. My sister-in-law donated her cemetery plot to us (both she and my husband were given plots when they were teenagers by their mother), so that we didn't have to find a plot.
After that, I was asked what I thought of a number of ideas, and I agreed with whatever. My mother-in-law took the whole week off from work when we came home from the hospital and she made the majority of the arrangements.
Both of our families chipped in and paid for the entire funeral and made significant contributions for the headstone.
The funeral itself was lovely, but heart wrenching. Just seeing the tiny little casket broke my heart. We buried our babies with their bears (the day we found out the sexes, my husband went shopping and got them each a bear - one pink, one blue). We let them keep their hats and blankets and we wrote a note to each of them to go into the casket.
My husband called a funeral home. At first, the only option they offered was cremation, but after we talked to the staff at the hospital who told us there was no reason we couldn't do a burial, we called the funeral home back and arranged for a burial. My sister-in-law donated her cemetery plot to us (both she and my husband were given plots when they were teenagers by their mother), so that we didn't have to find a plot.
After that, I was asked what I thought of a number of ideas, and I agreed with whatever. My mother-in-law took the whole week off from work when we came home from the hospital and she made the majority of the arrangements.
Both of our families chipped in and paid for the entire funeral and made significant contributions for the headstone.
The funeral itself was lovely, but heart wrenching. Just seeing the tiny little casket broke my heart. We buried our babies with their bears (the day we found out the sexes, my husband went shopping and got them each a bear - one pink, one blue). We let them keep their hats and blankets and we wrote a note to each of them to go into the casket.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
The Delivery
Sunday morning was Easter. We were supposed to be visiting with my family (Saturday we were supposed to have taken the dogs to a Mets game, but we missed that). On Saturday, I had asked family members to bring my things to the hospital so that I could start to knit some hats for the babies. I started working on Caiden's early Sunday morning. After getting through a few rows, I felt a gush of water. We called the nurse who came in and checked on things. I don't have a good sense of time because everything was so overwhelming, but I am sure we waited hours for the doctor to come in. Eventually, the doctor came in and said that they were now sure that my water had broken (until then they were unsure) and that there was nothing more we could do and I would need to deliver the babies. They recommended inducing labor to speed things along so that I wasn't in labor for days. We agreed.
They gave me a pill to initiate the labor. While the medicine went to work, the family started trying to get someone to come and pray with us. Since it was Easter Sunday, it took a lot of calling to reach anyone. But all the calling eventually paid off... The hospital produced their chaplain who said a couple prayers with us. A short while later, the hospital also produced a Catholic priest who was tied to the hospital. Shortly after that, our church's deacon (whose son my husband grew up with) stop in and said a few prayers. After that, our old priest (who had moved to a new church) arrived to say prayers and give us a blessing. We joked that we were the most blessed people on earth that day because of all the praying and blessings.
After taking the pill, I started freaking out because I hadn't decided yet how to handle the pain of labor (I was only 20 weeks pregnant and labor had seemed so far away). The nurse told me I could have anything I wanted. They had been giving me Oxycodone for my back (it was very sore from the uncomfortable position I had been laying in), so I ended up requesting that in the end.
Just after taking the Oxycodone, I started shivering violently. The nurse quickly brought blankets from the warmer and wrapped me up. Unbeknowst to me, this was the start of labor. (What does shivering have to do with labor? I still don't understand it, but apparently it is a common sign...) After shivering for a few minutes, my water burst. The doctor came in and with one push Caiden was born. The doctor wanted me to concentrate on delivering Kaylie, so he would not let me see Caiden at first, but when it appeared Kaylie was not quite ready to make her exit, the doctor introduced us to our son. Just before pushing, the doctor had warned us not to expect our children to look like full-term babies, so we steeled ourselves for the unexpected. He looked nothing like what we had prepared ourselves for; I would never have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes: other than being off-pigmented (dark) because of the early stages of development, he was a perfect looking tiny little baby with 10 tiny fingers and 10 tiny toes, his mouth opened and he had a tongue! His little ears were in perfect proportion to his head. It was the littlest things that amazed me.
Kaylie decided to come into the world with a burst! When her water broke, it soaked the resident who was sitting at the edge of the bed (though my doctor had enough experience to back up). She was born 27 minutes after her brother. She amazed us with her strength by taking several breaths. Her heart beat for a while, though again I have no sense of time...
The priest who had given us the final blessing came back to baptize the babies. Then the nurse brought in tiny hats and small quilts. She put the hats on them and my husband wrapped them very meticulously in their quilts. Our wonderful nurses took the babies to get their hand and footprints and take pictures. (And when we asked for clearer footprints because my husband wanted to get the footprints in a tattoo, they went off and did more footprinting.) They also weighed the babies: Caiden weighed a little over 12 ounces and Kaylie weighed about 10.5 ounces. We were not ready to say goodbye, so we kept the babies with us for the night.
They gave me a pill to initiate the labor. While the medicine went to work, the family started trying to get someone to come and pray with us. Since it was Easter Sunday, it took a lot of calling to reach anyone. But all the calling eventually paid off... The hospital produced their chaplain who said a couple prayers with us. A short while later, the hospital also produced a Catholic priest who was tied to the hospital. Shortly after that, our church's deacon (whose son my husband grew up with) stop in and said a few prayers. After that, our old priest (who had moved to a new church) arrived to say prayers and give us a blessing. We joked that we were the most blessed people on earth that day because of all the praying and blessings.
After taking the pill, I started freaking out because I hadn't decided yet how to handle the pain of labor (I was only 20 weeks pregnant and labor had seemed so far away). The nurse told me I could have anything I wanted. They had been giving me Oxycodone for my back (it was very sore from the uncomfortable position I had been laying in), so I ended up requesting that in the end.
Just after taking the Oxycodone, I started shivering violently. The nurse quickly brought blankets from the warmer and wrapped me up. Unbeknowst to me, this was the start of labor. (What does shivering have to do with labor? I still don't understand it, but apparently it is a common sign...) After shivering for a few minutes, my water burst. The doctor came in and with one push Caiden was born. The doctor wanted me to concentrate on delivering Kaylie, so he would not let me see Caiden at first, but when it appeared Kaylie was not quite ready to make her exit, the doctor introduced us to our son. Just before pushing, the doctor had warned us not to expect our children to look like full-term babies, so we steeled ourselves for the unexpected. He looked nothing like what we had prepared ourselves for; I would never have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes: other than being off-pigmented (dark) because of the early stages of development, he was a perfect looking tiny little baby with 10 tiny fingers and 10 tiny toes, his mouth opened and he had a tongue! His little ears were in perfect proportion to his head. It was the littlest things that amazed me.
Kaylie decided to come into the world with a burst! When her water broke, it soaked the resident who was sitting at the edge of the bed (though my doctor had enough experience to back up). She was born 27 minutes after her brother. She amazed us with her strength by taking several breaths. Her heart beat for a while, though again I have no sense of time...
The priest who had given us the final blessing came back to baptize the babies. Then the nurse brought in tiny hats and small quilts. She put the hats on them and my husband wrapped them very meticulously in their quilts. Our wonderful nurses took the babies to get their hand and footprints and take pictures. (And when we asked for clearer footprints because my husband wanted to get the footprints in a tattoo, they went off and did more footprinting.) They also weighed the babies: Caiden weighed a little over 12 ounces and Kaylie weighed about 10.5 ounces. We were not ready to say goodbye, so we kept the babies with us for the night.
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