Surgery Day

The next morning I woke up and saw the whole lamanaria kit sitting on the windowsill, which meant I was getting them taken out and getting new ones put in. Noooo. L

The doctor came in around 8 in the morning and told me that we still weren’t sure what time they were doing the surgery, since I was an add on, but they were hoping for mid day. I went through the whole lamanaria insertion hell once again. I asked for percocets to hopefully offset that pain, but nope. That speculum was so brutal for some reason! So after that, there was nothing for us to do but wait.

I want to say that I couldn’t have done any of this without Matt by my side. He was amazing. Running home to take care of the dogs, returning back at midnight, sleeping in that awful chair next to my bed, watching crap tv with me, and bringing his laptop so we could watch Friends on Netflix. Love that guy so much.

The waiting wasn’t so bad, because I wasn’t really thinking about the sadness of the whole situation. It was all so medical, it was a distraction. I knew I had to do what I was about to do. Our whole entire pregnancy was a long drawn out series of disappointments and fear, that we were just relieved to finally have answers, even if the diagnosis was so terrible. It was out of my control, and I finally gave that control up. I was in the hands of my great doctor, my great nurses, and whatever path was laid out for me.

We got called for surgery around mid day. It felt like TV, getting wheeled down to the OR on my bed, with those big circular futuristic lights above me. The anesthesiologist was going to give me an epidural to numb me, but my doctor must have argued that and I would up getting gassed to oblivion, with a breathing tube down my throat. Next thing I knew, I woke up in recovery, with an irritated throat, and freezing like crazy again. All these random bouts of freezing must have been because they took so much blood from me, I have no idea. As groggy as I was, I tried to see if I felt any different physically. Maybe just a little.

They wheeled me back upstairs, and Matt found me, along with my mom, sister and her boyfriend, who were waiting in the waiting room during the surgery. I told them to go get some food while I woke up a little, and they brought me back ice cream and funnel cake. I was so happy to eat!  Matt’s family and my friend Gina and her mom came to visit me a little later. It definitely was a welcome distraction. One of the nurses came in while everyone was there with paperwork that needed to be signed, but she said she would come back later.

I can see why she did, they were cremation forms.

I stayed one more night, so they could keep an eye on my blood pressure as they took me off the medicine. I was happy to, I wasn’t ready to be on my own just yet. Unfortunately the air conditioner broke in our room, so that was a little rough. I insisted Matt go home and sleep in a real bed, but he didn’t want to leave me. Love him.

A few hours later, lots more bloodwork, vitals checked, and a birth control shot later, they released me and Matt took me home.

The hardest part was that I was leaving, on my own, and I felt like wasn’t a mom anymore.

Recovering the week after.

I thought coming home would be the hardest part of the whole experience. It wasn't easy.

Physically that week after, it wasn't so bad. I was able to go to the mall with my mom, little errands, nothing super strenuous but I felt okay, and distractions helped a lot. Mid week was really crampy and I felt really sick to my stomach at times, which is normal. Bleeding, of course. I tried to relax as best I could, but being home all week isn't something I'm used to, and I started to get restless. I was allowed to have wine again though, so that helped the relaxation a bit!

Emotionaly, it was hard. Sadness came in waves, but I felt like I was doing pretty well. Everyone was really sympathetic and supportive. But then I would feel like something was wrong with me if I wasn't crying all day. The fact that we both went through such a long period of ups, downs and disappointments really wore us down. I spent so much time trying so hard to be strong and optimistic, I just don't think I had much left in me. I was just somewhat thankful for a conclusion, even if it was the worst conclusion possible.

I still have triggers for sure. That week we tried to avoid most family functions, just because it was too much. I felt like there were a million more pregnant women and newborn babies in public than there ever were before, and of course it just felt so unfair. I knew I couldn't hold it against them, and how did I know they didn't have problems of their own? Things like a cereal commercial with a mom and daughter would bring me to tears, or a little girl riding her bike on the sidewalk as I drove to the bank one day. It makes me wonder what my little girl would have been like if she was that age.

I went back to work after about a week, and that morning was so hard. I felt like everything was going back to normal, even though I wasn't. I took a few minutes to cry on the bathroom floor while doing my makeup, like I've done many times over the past weeks. I'm not someone who feels okay crying around other people, and I've managed to prefect my game face throughout all this, unless it was with Matt. I didn't know what it would be like facing people in person. Would they act like nothing happened? Would they ask me questions? Would I melt into a pile on the floor?

I couldn't help but wonder if everyone I know knew the whole story, whether I lost the baby or terminated it, and whether that would really affect anyone. I think I'm still prepared for judgements if they come, I feel like it's inevitable.

Terminated a wanted pregnancy is just so different.

Choosing a name

I found that it was really difficult to choose a name for our baby girl. It took me weeks. Friends and family had been asking if we decided on a name. I wasn’t settled on a name before all he hard times started, and I almost felt like I would know her name when I saw her. But I never got to see her. 

She had been through so much, and so I felt like her name should represent her strength and her short, delicate life. Many babies with her diagnosis don’t make this far, but she did. She was strong, like her mom and dad. I never got to see her or even feel her move, but I felt connected to her in that way. 

We decided on the name Lily, one of my favorite flowers. 

It’s been crazy how many people I know have told me their stories of loss, and one thing in particular stuck with me. A father with two daughters was telling me how him and his wife lost their first pregnancy. They only ever planned on having two children, and if that first child had made it, they never would have had their youngest daughter. They couldn’t imagine life without her. 

I really believe that everything happens for a reason. Right now this is such a hard thing to deal with, but I do believe that sometimes bad things happen for bigger things to come. 

It’s one of the many things I hang on to so I can make it through this. 

3 weeks later.

I'm currently almost a month post D & E. I'm doing okay for the most part. Last week I had my surgical follow up, and things are looking good. My HGC levels are coming down nicely. They told me that my liver enzymes were almost quadrupled right before the surgery because of the placenta, but those are coming down down as well.

We're also waiting on the pathology report of the placenta, to see if it was a partial molar pregnancy, which can be caused by the triplody.

I had to get a depo provera birth control shot before I left the hospital, which lasts 3 months. I have to get that again in another 3 months. They wanted to be sure all my pregnancy hormones go back down to zero before I try to conceive again, because of the partial molar pregnancy. With the PMP, the tissue can begin to come back and cause the levels to go back up, which can also lead to cancer. So, this means weekly blood tests! Once they level out, I'll get monthly blood tests. We can start trying to get pregnant again once they stay steady for a certain amount of time. It feels like such a long time, but thinking about going through all that pregnancy stuff again just gives me crazy anxiety right now!

Meanwhile, the nursery we never started working just sits empty :-( I try to not get stressed out about being too late to have kids, but my doctors all reassure I have plenty of time.