No news is good news

I know things have been really quiet here. There has been a lot going on for me locally. Lots of loss in my local community and I have been trying to help out how I can here, and trying to get ready for the holidays and for Sam.

I’ve stepped back a lot online right now, not just here, but my online presence in general, where I was very, very active just a few months ago.

Part of it may be that I’m holding my breath – waiting for the shoe to drop. I now know all the ways thing can go wrong. And I go back and forth between the occasional excitement and belief that Sam could arrive safely, and sure that disaster will strike at any moment.

I’m ostrich-ing myself a little. I remember how raw everything was at the holidays last year. I try not to let myself go to that dark place. And not being as involved online is part of that right now. My emotional energy is low, and it is tied up a lot locally. I’m involved in a local support group, and there have been two late term losses in the last few months. I also have some very close friends dealing with repeat loss and infertility. I do think of many of you, and appreciate those who check in. I’m sorry I don’t post/comment more. I also worry about being a negative to those struggling right now, while things with Sam are going so well at the moment.

I will say that trying not to go to the dark place doesn’t mean forgetting our road. I still think of Noah all the time and am working to include him in our holidays. It’s so hard to do anything that feels like enough. One small way was this ornament I bought in etsy. My whole family. <3

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Happy Halloween. Wish you were here.

Holidays. Even when you don’t think they will, they get you.

I expected to be nervous about Sam today. After all, with previous due dates of mid November and mid March and never having made it to Halloween still pregnant, who wouldn’t be a little superstitious?

And yes, I had nightmares all last night about being at he hospital, trying to keep him in, just days before the point at which they would try to save him.

But that wasn’t what got me today. It was the realization that this would have been Noah’s first “outside” Halloween. His first costume. And he’ll never get that. He never got Halloween. He was stillborn a week and a half before.

He never got most holidays. He was here from 4th of July to just before Halloween. No “big” cultural holidays. (Though he was here for High Holidays, I was just still on bed rest.)

We’ve been through all the first holidays without him. I thought I was done having loss hit me like a ton of bricks every holiday. But now, we still have 6m of the holidays that should have been his first. The first thanksgiving we should have had two to feed. The first Chanukah and Christmas of presents for two. The first valentines day with matching outfits.

I’m realizing today there will always be more firsts that we don’t get to have. Knowing so many babies born within a month of his due date I’ll see them all clearly. The first steps he’ll never take. First words. First scraped knee. First day of preschool, kindergarten, middle school, high school, first date, graduation. The first of those peers to get married and have babies of their own. Because that’s the thing. We didn’t just lose a baby, we lost everything. We lost seeing him stand up in his brothers’ weddings. Bringing a partner home for the holidays for the first time.

I know I need to take it one day at a time, but it seems insurmountable right now. Looking forward and wondering if there will ever be a holiday where I don’t cry because Noah isn’t here. If each first won’t take my breath away as much as this one.

We will alway wonder who you would have been.

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Microblog Monday 2

IMG_2267.PNGI feel Sam move all the time now. I never felt Noah move this much. I hardly felt him move at all. Part of it was his anterior placenta. Was another part because he had so much brain damage, it was hard for him to move?

I am 18w1d. That’s how far we were when we got Noah’s diagnosis. Tomorrow we have another ultrasound to look at Sam’s brain.

Microblog Mondays

18w, again

This picture was taken when I was exactly 18w pregnant with Noah. Exactly where I am now with Sam. It’s the last pregnancy picture where I was smiling. The next day we got Noah’s fatal diagnosis.
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The next picture was taken in the hospital, the morning of my induction.

I didn’t think this picture would bring up so much emotion.

Shanah Tovah and a reflection on Rosh Hashanah’s past.

Shanah Tovah to all my Jewish friends out there. I wish you all a sweet new year. May this year bring hope, love, and (for those of you wishing it) a baby.

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This is the 3rd time I have been pregnant on Rosh Hashanah.

The first time, I was in the hospital. I was 33w5d and they were desperately trying to give me medicine to stop the contractions, and to help mature his lungs. But the medicine that was supposed to keep him in, put him into distress, and we started the new year by having an urgent cesarean and a baby in the NICU. And exciting, if traumatic start to the year.

But the next year was sweet. We spent the first 18 days in the NICU, before we finally got to come home. There was a lot of change that year. Having a baby, going back to work, going down to part time, and then finally deciding to stay home.

The second time I was pregnant on Rosh Hashanah, I was 13 weeks pregnant with Noah. Not in the hospital, but home hooked up to a zofran pump and IV fluids, we still didn’t make it to services. Rosh Hashanah was early last year, early September. We still had a whole month before we found out there was a problem with Noah’s brain. The last year has been some of the darkest times of my life. Severe HG. Noah’s diagnosis. Delivering him knowing he was dying. Getting through those first few months without him. The pain of TTC again. All of our infertility testing and bad news, after bad news. Early losses. And then finally, Sam. Being terrified of another early loss. And then of losing him like we did Noah. We spent the final days of 5774 afraid again.

On Sunday we went to town to celebrate my birthday (hello there thirty). We did a lot of walking. The HG has subsided a bit, and it’s the first trip to town I’ve had in months. Towards the end I started having contractions. Three pretty close together. I’ve been having 5-10 Braxton hicks contractions a day for about a week, but these were much closer together. I sat down for most of the rest of our trip. But they started up again the next morning before I even got out of bed. By the time I had been awake 3 hours, I had had close to 10. I started timing them and for awhile they were 10 minutes apart. Not good when you are 17w. I played a lot of phone tag with my doctors before they finally brought me in for a cervical length check around 3:30. At that point I had lost count at 30. But thankfully my cervix was still nice and long. 3.74cm to be precise. While I was there I got my first P17 shot, and since then, my uterus has been much calmer.

But still, this is my 3rd time being pregnant on Rosh Hashanah, and yet, I have never been pregnant by Halloween. Hopefully this will be the first time.

And I am starting to have hope. I have been taking out maternity clothes, and today, I started packing away clothes that were too small. And despite my scare this week. And my 18w ultrasound on Tuesday, it wasn’t until later that I thought of what a leap of faith that is. Faith that Sam won’t be coming out in the next month. So that hope and faith thing? Maybe I have it after all. I figure it’s a good way to ring in the new year. To believe that 5775 will be different. That it won’t have a terrifying pregnancy complication like 5574 and 5572.

We still didn’t go to services tonight. Apparently that just doesn’t happen when I’m pregnant. But this time, it’s not because I’m pregnant. Nope, this to me it is because our almost 3 year old woke up last night with a fever of 101. And at it’ s high today it was up to 102.5. But at least this year, there are no IVs.

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Please let the ending be different

342 days ago I was 17 weeks with Noah. Today I am 17 weeks with Sam. 342 days ago, the ultrasound tech said everything that she could see looked fine and to come back in 3 weeks. The next day we got a call from the specialist who reviewed the pictures saying he wasn’t so sure. Three weeks later we got a call that we could pick up Noah’s ashes the next day.

There is nothing I can do but wait. Our next ultrasound is at 18w2d on September 30th. We got Noah’s diagnosis at an ultrasound at 18w1d on October 1st. I realized those dates don’t make sense. October 1st was when I was 17w and we first found out there was a problem. We got Noah’s diagnosis at 18w2d on October 9th.

I am reliving every step of the worst time in my life. And trying to have hope that this time, the ending will be different.

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So far, so good

I am exhausted, but just wanted to update.

Thankfully, there was no sign of the cyst that Noah had! and the ventricles in the brain were within the normal range. The doctor told us that there is still a lot of brain development going on at this stage. They feel that if a problem like Noah’s will develop, it will be 20w. So we have another ultrasound in 2 weeks at 18w (the point at which we got Noah’s fatal diagnosis) and again at 20w.

We left the house for the appointment a little after 9, and didn’t get home until 2. A really long day, particularly with HG and the emotional stress. So I’m just exhausted. Thank you everyone for your thoughts and prayers.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow we have the first of 3 ultrasounds to look at the brain. To find out whether or not this baby has a chance at life. I’ve been counting down, but now I’m afraid to know. As long as I don’t know there is the possibility that he is ok.
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