Our ultrasound was this morning and we did not receive good news. It appears that our baby is in my right tube. We are devastated........a clear yolk sac could be seen in-between my right ovary and my uterus. Our doctor tried to get in closer to see if we could see a heartbeat flickering but we could not distinguish between mine and what could have been our babies. We are waiting for my beta count and we have to make a decision. I am either going to have the methotrexate shot or be scheduled for surgery. Either way, we will lose this child. This is my second ectopic on my right side. I don't know what to do, and I don't have a lot of time to think about it. I could have the shot, and because my last beta was 2144 (Friday), my tube could rupture and I would need surgery. I may be too far along for the shot to work at this point. On the other hand, I could have the shot and not have surgery but have a risk of this happening again (it has been 8 years between my ectopics). I could have surgery to remove my tube, but risks come with surgery.
None of this is fair....... this will be our 11th loss in our 10 years of marriage. I'll try and update as to what we are going to do. When I left the doctor's office, I said I wanted my tube removed......now I just don't know. Please pray for me!
Monday, August 14, 2006
Friday, August 11, 2006
First of all my doctor called me and it was close to 1PM........so I thought immediately I was going to get bad news (usually good news travels fast and through the nurse).
My beta is 2144 which is a really good number.......normally good enough to see something on the ultrasound but we saw nothing but a really fat lining today. He did tell me that he has had several patients not have anything show up on u/s until their betas reached 3000. That made me feel better. I go back on Monday for ultrasound and repeat beta......if nothing shows up then it is most likely an ectopic (tubal pregnancy). We will deal with that when the time comes. Right now, I am not cramping, nor bleeding.
Please hold us in your prayers today and throughout the weekend and especially on Monday. We've never had a beta this high on our own before (our first ectopic was much lower) I know that HE is in control and has plans for this child. It's going to be a long, long, weekend! We'll be going out of town (to VA) for my nephew's bday so that will take my mind off of things.
My beta is 2144 which is a really good number.......normally good enough to see something on the ultrasound but we saw nothing but a really fat lining today. He did tell me that he has had several patients not have anything show up on u/s until their betas reached 3000. That made me feel better. I go back on Monday for ultrasound and repeat beta......if nothing shows up then it is most likely an ectopic (tubal pregnancy). We will deal with that when the time comes. Right now, I am not cramping, nor bleeding.
Please hold us in your prayers today and throughout the weekend and especially on Monday. We've never had a beta this high on our own before (our first ectopic was much lower) I know that HE is in control and has plans for this child. It's going to be a long, long, weekend! We'll be going out of town (to VA) for my nephew's bday so that will take my mind off of things.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Friday, August 04, 2006
We have some good news to report. Our second beta is 113 Praise the Lord......we are over one hurdle! That means my numbers have doubled and is a good sign. All morning I just couldn't help shake that I was going to get "the dreaded call" that my numbers went down. I just don't "feel" as pregnant as I did with our last pregnancy. The doctor and his nurse said the number was really good and I scheduled for an ultrasound next Friday morning. They think that I am around 4 weeks along right now. Please continue to pray for me and our baby.....I have a history of ectopic (tubal) and early miscarriage so this is one hurdle of many we have to get over. One good thing is that this is the only pregnancy that I've not spotted with....so I feel good about that.
I think I am still in shock.....and we are still guardedly optimistic. We can feel your prayers and are still comforted in knowing that it's by God's grace that this is happening.
Thank you for all your prayers, kind words, and responses. One of my favorites was "I pray that your hand is on this child you have created and know the days ordained for it. I pray the days are many on this earth and they can proclaim your name through this miracle baby" I have read that over and over again!
I think I am still in shock.....and we are still guardedly optimistic. We can feel your prayers and are still comforted in knowing that it's by God's grace that this is happening.
Thank you for all your prayers, kind words, and responses. One of my favorites was "I pray that your hand is on this child you have created and know the days ordained for it. I pray the days are many on this earth and they can proclaim your name through this miracle baby" I have read that over and over again!
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
I have more good moments than bad these days. My body seems to think it is still pregnant.....I have a poochy belly as if I am 2 months pregnant. I guess it is still all those hormones! Jonathan and I feel that this m/c was a miracle, we never thought we could conceive again without ivf/icsi. We will be trying and just see what happens. We had been doing that for the past 2 years without any success, but I've been reading that I am more fertile now. I am going to try and not get on a month to month roller coaster of emotions and over analyzing every symptom. I believe with all of my heart that we will be blessed again. I just can't believe that I am sane after losing 10 babies during the course of our 10 year marriage.....God's grace is surely keeping me full of peace! Despite everything, I have never lost hope and seem to bounce back. But there is always that fear that I'll never see two lines on an hpt or deliver another healthy child. I feel so blessed that God chose me and Jonathan to parent our twin boys. They are more than just a blessing or miracle to us.....but it still doesn't make the losses any easier. Sometimes I think about those that have lost children of all ages and their loss is of a memory that they have of a face and times they had together.......and I get sad thinking of all the babies we've lost, wondering if they were boys/girls, what they would have looked like, what their personalities would be like and I get overwhelmed that so many of us have losses.......But I am so grateful for Hannah's Prayer forum because I know there are so many who understand and will not judge.....especially when my feelings are so raw at times.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Respecting that all losses are worthy of their own individual grief.
"I just talked to our friend Jane, she sounded pretty down.", My girlfriend shared with me over coffee recently.
"Oh, did she say why?", I replied. Not really thinking about it.
"She had a miscarriage over the weekend." My girlfriend sipped her drink.
"How awful. I should give her a call." I said, my heart sinking.
"Oh, I am sure she's fine, she was only 7 weeks along. Yeah well... did you want to go shopping this weekend?"
I don't care to count how often conversations like this one have been had. Why is it that an early pregnancy loss is somehow deemed ok to be minimized? Would my friend have found more compassion if this loss happened at 14 weeks? 28 weeks? 40 weeks? What are the criteria that a loss must meet before others deem it worthy of grieving and respecting?
Is this a religious thing? Does it matter where you stand on that question of when life begins? Is it a result of people's positions politically? Is it just a fact that unless you've been there too, you simply don't have any context within which to understand the crushing anguish that follows the loss of a child? The gracious side of me chooses to believe that it is the latter. I believe that generally, people just are not aware that they are doing so when they diminish a loss.
The moment you find out that you are pregnant, you don't call up your partner and say, "Honey guess what? I am carrying a fetus that is not viable yet, but will be in 28 weeks if we are lucky." You say, "We are having a baby." The second you see the positive result on that home test, or your doctor confirms with a test at the office, your mind fast forwards to a huge growing belly, maternity clothing, decorating the nursery, dreams and hopes about the baby who is alive inside you, their gender, who they will look like, what you will name them. A lifetime of these things passes through your mind in the first moments! You are going to be a mother and a father. You are going to have a baby.
For anyone who has suffered the loss of a wanted baby during pregnancy at any stage or as an infant - it is devastating. Period. Why is this heirarchy allowed to perpetuate that quantifies the value of our loss, and then sets a limit on the depth and the longevity of the subsequent mourning and grief? What can we as individuals to do dispell the widely held beliefs that the earlier the loss, the easier it will be?
It seems though, that this strange and ambiguous cloud hangs only over these early pregnancy and infant losses. I don't think I have ever heard anyone say, "Well, thank goodness the child was only three years old when they died, the parents were not as attached as they would be if he was ten." Followed by the token statement: "Well, at least they can have more children." Of course, statements like these, when viewed against the backdrop of a toddler death are so clearly inappropriate, and would never be spoken or hopefully even cross the mind. Why then, does it happen so often for early losses?
Whenever we hear about someone losing a child, we almost always want to know how old they were. As if the loss of a newborn is somehow harder than the loss where the child was stillborn late-term or whose heartbeat was never located in ultrasound at 12 weeks. Do people reserve their reaction to the news of the loss for a time when they can place the loss on a rung of the loss ladder? Are they unsure how to respond without knowing the age of the baby that was lost? Does a miscarriage earn a "Oh, well that is sad." where a full-term loss deserves "Oh, they must be devastated." and then any losses of a child who was born alive deserves tears? Of course not.
The moment we learn that we are pregnant we are all on equal ground. We are all in the same place, having the same thoughts and dreams. Learning that your child is gone is equally difficult regardless of the stage at which the loss has occurred. Prior to my experiences with my own losses, I would never have thought that I too was guilty of measuring others' losses by ladder rungs. Yet, I was. But no more; for my part, I pledge to speak up in defense of a loss that is about to be dismissed. I believe that one of the duties that is bestowed upon us as bereaved parents is to extend a glimpse into the depths of our loss onto others. We have a unique opportunity to offer the understanding we have to those who have not been touched by these experiences.
© 2006 Rowan Tree Foundation
"I just talked to our friend Jane, she sounded pretty down.", My girlfriend shared with me over coffee recently.
"Oh, did she say why?", I replied. Not really thinking about it.
"She had a miscarriage over the weekend." My girlfriend sipped her drink.
"How awful. I should give her a call." I said, my heart sinking.
"Oh, I am sure she's fine, she was only 7 weeks along. Yeah well... did you want to go shopping this weekend?"
I don't care to count how often conversations like this one have been had. Why is it that an early pregnancy loss is somehow deemed ok to be minimized? Would my friend have found more compassion if this loss happened at 14 weeks? 28 weeks? 40 weeks? What are the criteria that a loss must meet before others deem it worthy of grieving and respecting?
Is this a religious thing? Does it matter where you stand on that question of when life begins? Is it a result of people's positions politically? Is it just a fact that unless you've been there too, you simply don't have any context within which to understand the crushing anguish that follows the loss of a child? The gracious side of me chooses to believe that it is the latter. I believe that generally, people just are not aware that they are doing so when they diminish a loss.
The moment you find out that you are pregnant, you don't call up your partner and say, "Honey guess what? I am carrying a fetus that is not viable yet, but will be in 28 weeks if we are lucky." You say, "We are having a baby." The second you see the positive result on that home test, or your doctor confirms with a test at the office, your mind fast forwards to a huge growing belly, maternity clothing, decorating the nursery, dreams and hopes about the baby who is alive inside you, their gender, who they will look like, what you will name them. A lifetime of these things passes through your mind in the first moments! You are going to be a mother and a father. You are going to have a baby.
For anyone who has suffered the loss of a wanted baby during pregnancy at any stage or as an infant - it is devastating. Period. Why is this heirarchy allowed to perpetuate that quantifies the value of our loss, and then sets a limit on the depth and the longevity of the subsequent mourning and grief? What can we as individuals to do dispell the widely held beliefs that the earlier the loss, the easier it will be?
It seems though, that this strange and ambiguous cloud hangs only over these early pregnancy and infant losses. I don't think I have ever heard anyone say, "Well, thank goodness the child was only three years old when they died, the parents were not as attached as they would be if he was ten." Followed by the token statement: "Well, at least they can have more children." Of course, statements like these, when viewed against the backdrop of a toddler death are so clearly inappropriate, and would never be spoken or hopefully even cross the mind. Why then, does it happen so often for early losses?
Whenever we hear about someone losing a child, we almost always want to know how old they were. As if the loss of a newborn is somehow harder than the loss where the child was stillborn late-term or whose heartbeat was never located in ultrasound at 12 weeks. Do people reserve their reaction to the news of the loss for a time when they can place the loss on a rung of the loss ladder? Are they unsure how to respond without knowing the age of the baby that was lost? Does a miscarriage earn a "Oh, well that is sad." where a full-term loss deserves "Oh, they must be devastated." and then any losses of a child who was born alive deserves tears? Of course not.
The moment we learn that we are pregnant we are all on equal ground. We are all in the same place, having the same thoughts and dreams. Learning that your child is gone is equally difficult regardless of the stage at which the loss has occurred. Prior to my experiences with my own losses, I would never have thought that I too was guilty of measuring others' losses by ladder rungs. Yet, I was. But no more; for my part, I pledge to speak up in defense of a loss that is about to be dismissed. I believe that one of the duties that is bestowed upon us as bereaved parents is to extend a glimpse into the depths of our loss onto others. We have a unique opportunity to offer the understanding we have to those who have not been touched by these experiences.
© 2006 Rowan Tree Foundation
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Let me Hold You Longer
Long ago you came to me,
a miracle of firsts:
First smiles and teeth and baby steps,
a sunbeam on the burst.
But one day you will move away
and leave me to your past
And I will be left thinking of
a lifetime of your lasts..........
The last time that I held a bottle
to your baby lips.
The last time that I lifted you
and held you on my hip.
The last night when you woke up crying
needed to be walked,
When last you crawled up with your blanket,
wanting to be rocked.
The last time when you ran to me,
still small enough to hold.
The last time that you said you'd marry
me when you grew old.
Precious, simple moments and
bright flashes from your past--
Would I have held on longer if
I'd known they were your last?
Our last adventure to the park,
your final midday nap,
The last time when you wore your favorite
faded baseball cap.
Your last few hours of kindergarten,
those last days of first grade,
You last at bat in Little League,
last colored picture made.
I never said goodbye to all
your yesterday's long passed.
So what about tomorrow--
Will I recognize your lasts?
The last time that you catch a frog
in that old backyard pond.
The last time you run barefoot
across our fresh cut lawn.
Silly, scattered images
will represent your past.
I keep on taking pictures,
never quite sure of your lasts......
The last time that I comb your hair
or stop a pillow fight.
The last time that I pray with your
and tuck you in at night.
The last time when we cuddle
with a book, just me and you.
The last time you jump in our bed
and sleep between us two.
The last piano lesson,
last vacation to the lake.
Your last few weeks of middle school,
last soccer goal you make.
I look ahead and dream of days
that haven't come to pass.
But as I do, I sometimes miss
today's sweet, precious lasts.......
The last time that I help you with
a mathing or spelling test,
The last time when I shout that yes,
your room is still a mess.
The last time that you need me for
a ride from here to there.
The last time that you spend the night
with your old tattered bear.
My life keeps moving faster
stealing precious days that pass.
I want to hold on longer--
want to recognize your lasts.
The last time that you need my help
with details of a dance.
The last time that you ask me for
advice about romance.
The last time that you talk to me
about your hopes and dreams.
The last time that you wear a jersey
for you high school team.
I've watched you grow and barely noticed
seasons as they passed,
If I could freeze the hands of time,
I'd hold on to your lasts
For come some bright fall morning,
you'll be going far away.
College life will beckon
in a brilliant sort of way.
One last hug, one last good-bye,
One quick and hurried kiss.
One last time to understand
Just how much you'll be missed.
I'll watch you leave and think how fast
Our time together passed.
Let me hold on longer, God,
to every precious last.
by Karen Kingsbury
Long ago you came to me,
a miracle of firsts:
First smiles and teeth and baby steps,
a sunbeam on the burst.
But one day you will move away
and leave me to your past
And I will be left thinking of
a lifetime of your lasts..........
The last time that I held a bottle
to your baby lips.
The last time that I lifted you
and held you on my hip.
The last night when you woke up crying
needed to be walked,
When last you crawled up with your blanket,
wanting to be rocked.
The last time when you ran to me,
still small enough to hold.
The last time that you said you'd marry
me when you grew old.
Precious, simple moments and
bright flashes from your past--
Would I have held on longer if
I'd known they were your last?
Our last adventure to the park,
your final midday nap,
The last time when you wore your favorite
faded baseball cap.
Your last few hours of kindergarten,
those last days of first grade,
You last at bat in Little League,
last colored picture made.
I never said goodbye to all
your yesterday's long passed.
So what about tomorrow--
Will I recognize your lasts?
The last time that you catch a frog
in that old backyard pond.
The last time you run barefoot
across our fresh cut lawn.
Silly, scattered images
will represent your past.
I keep on taking pictures,
never quite sure of your lasts......
The last time that I comb your hair
or stop a pillow fight.
The last time that I pray with your
and tuck you in at night.
The last time when we cuddle
with a book, just me and you.
The last time you jump in our bed
and sleep between us two.
The last piano lesson,
last vacation to the lake.
Your last few weeks of middle school,
last soccer goal you make.
I look ahead and dream of days
that haven't come to pass.
But as I do, I sometimes miss
today's sweet, precious lasts.......
The last time that I help you with
a mathing or spelling test,
The last time when I shout that yes,
your room is still a mess.
The last time that you need me for
a ride from here to there.
The last time that you spend the night
with your old tattered bear.
My life keeps moving faster
stealing precious days that pass.
I want to hold on longer--
want to recognize your lasts.
The last time that you need my help
with details of a dance.
The last time that you ask me for
advice about romance.
The last time that you talk to me
about your hopes and dreams.
The last time that you wear a jersey
for you high school team.
I've watched you grow and barely noticed
seasons as they passed,
If I could freeze the hands of time,
I'd hold on to your lasts
For come some bright fall morning,
you'll be going far away.
College life will beckon
in a brilliant sort of way.
One last hug, one last good-bye,
One quick and hurried kiss.
One last time to understand
Just how much you'll be missed.
I'll watch you leave and think how fast
Our time together passed.
Let me hold on longer, God,
to every precious last.
by Karen Kingsbury
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