Today's the day. It's like the continental divide of pregnancy loss. . .you get to this day and you stop thinking "I should be pregnant right now" and start thinking "I should be holding my baby right now."
Just how do you handle a day like this? We had William's body cremated, so we don't have a gravesite to visit. But I do have his garden, and that's where I spent the better part of my evening. As I was digging around, moving out rocks and pulling up old roots, I found that there were some old bricks at the bottom of the bed, put there decades ago by some previous owner. I had to laugh at this discovery. . .years ago I saw a pathway paved with old bricks, and I became instantly infatuated with the concept of "salvaged brick", as the magazine article called them. When I found these bricks today, it felt like a little gift from William to me. Silly, I know, but I'm going to take comfort wherever I can find it.
I could go on about what this day has been to me, delve into the thoughts that have been swimming around my head since I first woke up. But I'm tired. I understand now why they call it "griefwork"--it takes a surprising amount of energy. So I'll finish up this post now and leave myself some time to work on the blanket I'm making to give to the hospital, in William's memory.
Momma loves you, little guy.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Reasons
After I lost William, the biggest thought looming in my head was "WHY?" I'm not talking about a spiritual, metaphysical why-do-bad-things-happen-to-good-people why. That really didn't concern me too much. I knew that I have a deal with my Heavenly Father, and that it's not part of that deal that nothing bad will ever happen to me, no matter how "good" I may be. It was the logical, mathematical what-went-wrong why that kept me up at night. Why did my body just give up on my perfect, healthy baby and go into labor?
I played back the last week of my pregnancy over and over. I combed the internet looking for information, for stories like mine. At my checkup the week after I delivered William, my OB had kept talking about doing a cerclage next time around--since my placenta "looked fine" and it didn't seem like I had an infection, he'd said I probably just had an incompetent cervix. This really didn't sit right with me (my cervix had been plenty competent during my first two pregnancies, for starters), but I included IC in my ever-growing list of conditions to research.
I finally worked up the nerve to go in to my OB's office and request a copy of my records--included was the results from the pathology exam. A little background here: This was my first baby with "Dr. W."--we'd moved just before Anna was born and I finished out that pregnancy with the same OB I'd seen with Elizabeth. I hadn't felt great about the "vibe" I got from Dr. W--in fact, I had been looking for a new doctor when everything fell apart. I need to be straight here: I don't blame Dr. W. for my loss. There was nothing he did or didn't do to make this happen. But that said, I wish he'd been a little more proactive--at least sending me in for a thorough ultrasound when I kept bleeding long after the first trimester. It would've been nice to know that I did indeed have a sizeable subchorionic hematoma, as the pathology report noted. It would've been nice to know that this put me at a higher risk for P-PROM, infection, and early labor.
Or maybe I should thank my lucky stars that I didn't know any of that. If I had known, maybe I would've ended up on hospital bedrest and IV tocolytics and antibiotics, only to delay the inevitable. Maybe I should be grateful that my little boy didn't have to hang around for extra days or weeks slowly getting sick from the infection that, according to the pathologist's report, had begun to invade.
Marginal hematoma. Signs of early acute choriamnionitis. Inflammation of the basal plate and decidua. I have my reasons, these hollow answers to my "why". But, of course, now I have a whole host of new questions.
I played back the last week of my pregnancy over and over. I combed the internet looking for information, for stories like mine. At my checkup the week after I delivered William, my OB had kept talking about doing a cerclage next time around--since my placenta "looked fine" and it didn't seem like I had an infection, he'd said I probably just had an incompetent cervix. This really didn't sit right with me (my cervix had been plenty competent during my first two pregnancies, for starters), but I included IC in my ever-growing list of conditions to research.
I finally worked up the nerve to go in to my OB's office and request a copy of my records--included was the results from the pathology exam. A little background here: This was my first baby with "Dr. W."--we'd moved just before Anna was born and I finished out that pregnancy with the same OB I'd seen with Elizabeth. I hadn't felt great about the "vibe" I got from Dr. W--in fact, I had been looking for a new doctor when everything fell apart. I need to be straight here: I don't blame Dr. W. for my loss. There was nothing he did or didn't do to make this happen. But that said, I wish he'd been a little more proactive--at least sending me in for a thorough ultrasound when I kept bleeding long after the first trimester. It would've been nice to know that I did indeed have a sizeable subchorionic hematoma, as the pathology report noted. It would've been nice to know that this put me at a higher risk for P-PROM, infection, and early labor.
Or maybe I should thank my lucky stars that I didn't know any of that. If I had known, maybe I would've ended up on hospital bedrest and IV tocolytics and antibiotics, only to delay the inevitable. Maybe I should be grateful that my little boy didn't have to hang around for extra days or weeks slowly getting sick from the infection that, according to the pathologist's report, had begun to invade.
Marginal hematoma. Signs of early acute choriamnionitis. Inflammation of the basal plate and decidua. I have my reasons, these hollow answers to my "why". But, of course, now I have a whole host of new questions.
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