Picking up the pieces

Picking up the pieces...I'm trying.

This week has been excruciating to say the least. The amount of disappointment and heartache I feel is almost unbearable at times.

When I found out that we were pregnant I told myself not to get so excited. When I told my family that the IVF was successful, I sent them a text saying, "no gifts, no cards, no celebrating, no congratulations...we're not there yet." Everyone followed my rules, except for me.

I told myself I wouldn't get ahead of myself, but then I picked out the crib...and then I started looking for names...and then I found a stroller I wanted...and then I planned the nursery out in my head....but worse, I thought of how we would tell Olivia that she was going to be a big sister- and that's the part that I just can't get over.

Everyone keeps offering to take Olivia out and occupy her so we can have a moment to ourselves. The truth is, she's the only reason I get out of bed every day.

I've always felt that we got extremely lucky with Olivia. When we were pregnant with her, we didn't know what the outcome would be. The odds were against her yet every week she got stronger and stronger and she fought harder and harder. I strongly believe that we were never suppose to have Olivia. She is a true miracle who just never gave up.

My brother sent me a message saying he admired my strength and that in time, the pain will start to ease up. There are moments in each day that I feel weak, but then I look at Olivia and think- no one had to be stronger than her. No one had to fight harder. It wasn't me, it was her. So when I feel weak, and when the pain takes my breath away, I look at this child and I tell myself to do it for her.

I use to pray every day. I'm not a big church goer, but for as long as I can remember, I've always prayed every single day. These days, I find myself so confused and bitter that I can't find myself to pray anymore. I have nothing nice to say. I've begged and pleaded, I've cried on my knees, I've made promises, I've proved myself to be a great mom- but that doesn't seem to count for anything. I often wonder if there is anyone up there listening to me. Can they hear me when I sit in the shower screaming so loud I get an instant headache? Maybe praying is silly- maybe I'm talking to no one. If there is a God, why would he allow pain to exist?  It's something I wonder every day.

Everyone has been extremely supportive this past week. Even though I haven't been answering my phone, I've listened to every message, I've read every text, email and card. All of the well wishes and support, the flowers, the hot meals, the visits...it means more than you'll ever know. If there is one thing that this whole experience has taught me- it's that we have an army of support. And for that, I am forever grateful.

Dr. Binor called me last Friday to check on me. We had a conversation that I'll keep private, but it was sincere and heartfelt and for as much as we are hurting, I know he is hurting as well. I mentioned that when we started up this past round, I told myself and everyone else that this was it for us. I can't for the life of me imagine going through this again. We've had one loss too many and it's getting harder to accept and harder to move on. He told me to pause those thoughts, grieve and then make that decision once I have my head together. I agreed.

The unknown is hard for me to deal with. I can say life isn't fair, but I have Olivia and that's more than what most people have. I can't for the life of me figure out why we're not meant to have more kids and why Olivia can't have a sibling. It kills me, but deep down I know that it's something I need to come to terms with. As hard as this miscarriage took me down, it hurts more knowing that I can't give Olivia what she wants most in life.

I was laying on the couch the other day and Olivia decided to lay with me. We worked on a project that was due the next day and she held my hand and told me, "We did such a good job. Mama and monk! Best team ever!" (monk is short for monkey)

I got so lucky Olivia Hope. You gave me the gift of being a Mom and I will forever be grateful for the team that we've become. What ever the future brings, we will be together.

Heartbroken

This is the hardest blog post I think I've ever had to write. I'm finding it hard to find the words. I have so many thoughts, but I can't figure out how to process those thoughts.

6 weeks, 5 days.

We made it 6 weeks, 5 days...and that's all God would give us.

On Thursday, January 18 I suffered a miscarriage.

On Wednesday I started to bleed right before my weekly appointment with Dr. Binor. Sherri did an ultrasound and assured me that everything was alright. Cervix was closed, lining was thick, baby was sitting cozy and heartbeat...yes, there was a heartbeat.

"Listen to this, Courtney"

She turned up the volume and let me take in the sounds of that beautiful heartbeat.

"I know you're scared, but everything looks great. Go home, relax and enjoy"

I went home, laid down, but I couldn't relax. Something wasn't right.

Come Thursday I started feeling a bloated pressure that I've felt one too many times. I couldn't shake the feeling because I knew, deep down, what was to come our way and sure enough, Thursday evening the bleeding increased.

Don and I went to the emergency room and needless to say we were both a wreck. When I get nervous I have full blown conversations with myself in my head. I kept trying to assure myself that there was a heartbeat and that this is going to be a rollercoaster of a pregnancy which in the end would deliver a trouble maker of a baby. My guess was that it was a boy.

After my initial exam in the ER, the doctor had a more positive tone to his voice.

"Cervix is closed Courtney. This is a great sign. Let's get you in for an ultrasound and see what that shows."

Cervix closed. Thank God! Just what I thought, a bad baby.

The wait was too long for a couple who were struggling to cling on to hope. We tried making small talk to pass the time and every once in a while one of us would make the other laugh. After what seemed like forever, they finally wheeled us into ultrasound.

I always try my best to read the ultrasound tech's face. I look for any expression that could possibly give a clue as to what they see, but this ultrasound tech was wearing her poker face and I couldn't get a good read as to what chance we had. I kept looking at Don who was studying the monitor profusely.  No one was making any faces and no one would look at me. The dark room was filled with silence and it killed me.

This ultrasound took longer than most that I've had. Once the tech left I looked at Don who said, "I saw something. I saw the baby." 

Oh, thank God. I'm two days shy of being 7 weeks pregnant and have already had 3 decent heart attacks thanks to this bad baby!

Once we got back into the room we waited for the doctor to confirm what Don saw. We were already there for a few hours and I was getting more than antsy. At this point I was shaking off the cramps and bleeding and was ready to get home to bed.

In walks the doctor.

"I'm sorry, I was hopeful. Baby doesn't have a heartbeat and you're still a couple days from miscarrying." 

He knocked the wind out of me. I guess I knew all along, but didn't want to believe it.

Don hurried the nurse up to get me discharged. I was hanging on by a thread and he knew I was about to flip. The nurse said sorry countless times and gave me a pitiful, poor soul smile that I wanted to slap off her face. She handed me the ultrasound results and discharge papers and told me to follow up with my OB.

As we were walking through the ER I started to read the ultrasound results.

"Twin pregnancy."
"Baby A- no heartbeat"
"Baby B- no heartbeat"

I stopped in my tracks and shouted "twins" to Don.

This is how we find out that we had twins? What. The. F*ck.

Unfair is not the right word. It's putting it too lightly and I have yet to find the words to explain the devastation, hurt, anger, hopeless, heartbroken feeling that I feel all at once. There's no word.

I met with my OB the next day and we decided that a D&C would be best. The cervix was still closed and we were days away from the actual miscarriage. My OB thought it would be best that we get the D&C so we can grieve and not prolong the whole process. I agreed and went in yesterday for the procedure.

As they wheeled me into the OR I started to cry. My OB tried making small talk and said, "tell everyone your daughter's name"

"Olivia."
"What's her middle name?"
"Hope."

A nurse, who I've never met before, smiled and said, "well isn't that a fitting middle name"
and just like that, I went to sleep.

The past few days have been brutal. As soon as I think I can catch my breath I just about lose it again. All I want to do is sleep, but I find myself wishing that once I wake up I realize that it's all been a nightmare and that all will be alright again.

My OB told me that once a healthy heartbeat has been detected, 94% of pregnancies turn out successful. Of course, I fall into that 6%.

The pain is still very much raw. This is the 6th baby we've lost and let me tell you, it doesn't get any easier.

My heart is broken and I don't know how to make the pain go away.

6 weeks, 5 days...and I loved every second.

Baby Steps

December 20th we transferred two viable, healthy embryo's. It was our 7th IVF attempt to have another child. It's brought bumps in the road that we didn't expect, countless tears, too many injections to count, multiple bruising, swelling, nausea and the list goes on. We've prayed. On our knees, in our cars, in the shower, before bed. We begged and pleaded. Our faith has been tested since this process first began. We crumbled. More than once. But we always got back up. We did bed rest and we waited the long 2 weeks that IVF couples have to wait before learning their fate. We counted days, hours, minutes, seconds.

We won.

On January 2nd we got our positive.

Before the celebration begins, we have a ways to go. You see, we've been here before. We are thrilled to overcome the first major hurdle, but we still have some work to do. Like Dr. Binor said, we are cautiously optimistic. HCG, estrogen and progesterone numbers look good. Everything is where it needs to be.

We have so many people who follow our story that it was hard to keep this one to ourselves. So, even though we want to scream from the rooftops...it's not time...not yet. This pregnancy has already brought some minor complications. Last week I was in the hospital with pancreatitis and ulcers due to the meds I'm on. Yesterday, I was in panic mode due to moderate bleeding. Fortunately the bleeding is coming from outside of the cervix- which means it's most likely due to the medication as well.

IVF does a number to your body. My body has a mind of it's own and in less than a week, I've been once again reminded that this won't be a cakewalk. There's part of me that feels a little frustration that I can't just take our positive for granted and enjoy the ride. Everything has been a battle for us. We will take this on together as a family and deal with anything and everything that comes our way.

Until we get the green light, we will not be telling Olivia. God forbid things don't go our way, I wouldn't want to hurt her heart.

So, as of today we are 5 weeks and 3 days pregnant. We are thankful and blessed, but we're holding our breath.

When we were pregnant with Olivia, Dr. Alexander would set short term goals for us. Every time she would set a goal I would well up and think it was impossible for us to reach the goal. She always smiled and would say, "baby steps".

So, that's what we are doing. Trying to slowly get through each day, setting short term goals. The green light feels like forever away, but I know we'll get there.

Baby steps.