it's so scary being pregnant after pPROM. they call us PROM queens. a title i wish i could erase from my history. every little tinge of anything which most would consider normal alarms me and causes me to run through a chain of rationale in my head. for example, at about 9 weeks i felt something going on around my left ovary. most people would say it was the uterus stretching, but i was pretty concerned that it was a cyst or an enlarged ovary left over from the IVF cycle. it wasn't. it was normal. no cause for alarm. i am 17w, 3d today. i have had no spotting. everything about this pregnancy has been different. i am bigger than i was, i was bigger earlier, i have felt the ligaments stretching, i was nauseous, the gas was horrendous, no spotting in the second trimester, my hair is falling out, my gums have bled, and i am sure i could keep on going. but none of this has helped me to relax enough to let my loss go.
most moms worry and all babies are special, but there is nothing in the world like knowing that bad things -- i mean really bad things can happen. you tend to look at everything in a whole new light. with cooper, i was calm. and i was proud of that. i wasn't one of those spas-case moms who worried about everything. pregnancy was normal and women have been doing it successfully for millions of years. but i have managed to explore the darkness now and make it through. everything looks quite different on the other side.
i get aches and pains that are normal and i take myself back to my first pregnancy. i try to find as many differences as i can. i know all about positive thinking and the power of the mind over the body. i know that my negative thoughts can most certainly turn into reality. i try like hell to control them, but it's just so powerful. i want nothing more than to hold this baby in my arms and have him look up at me and his dad. cooper's eyes were still fused closed and i cried for his whole life. i want this baby to hear me laugh and to see me smile. in buddhism, we are taught to let go of attachments. that suffering is caused by desires. and that you can end that suffering if you stop wanting. but this is something that i cannot believe it is humanly possible not to want.
i was and am still fearful of the meds i was prescribed for my infections. i don't want any meds in my body with this baby. he had enough with the IVF cycle. so far, i have been able to avoid putting anything unnatural into my body (aside from the random dorito that i may steal from one of my students). but i did it. i took something that i know will make it to my baby. i hate that. i absolutely hate it. but in the end, the risk is too big to take. and today, after consulting with my midwife, i finally used the suppository. it is the same script i had used the night before my water broke. it's fucking terrifying. as i pushed on that little plunger, i was literally shaking and holding my breath with fear. but i know that realistically, there is no connection. cooper was born because there was something wrong in my body that forced him out too early.
maybe he was meant to come early. i have really come to believe that. and most people would cringe to hear me say that i am actually thankful that i was only able to be cooper's mommy here on earth for a short time. i have learned so much from him. this pregnancy, though often full of fear, has been so different. i see everything in a new light -- the good and the bad. this little soul who has chosen us like his brother did before him will have a completely different experience than we had planned for his brother. maybe that is part of cooper's purpose. this little one will be brought into the world in a way that josh and i could never have imagined and didn't even know existed. his life will begin in a place of comfort with only love and safety to greet him. that's just another lesson learned from little cooper. none of these experiences that i have written about would have occurred without cooper's guidance. i believe that in some way, he, or even we, planned all of this.
07 May, 2009
06 May, 2009
i just want to be normal
after the decision to use a midwife was made, we realized that we would of course need a back up plan in case of a hospital transfer. so i went to the midwife (CNM) at my NEW OBs office. i had transferred to them after cooper's delivery. she seemed ok with it. but when i asked that my pregnancy records be shared with my midwife, i was told in no uncertain terms that these docs would not work on a team with a direct entry midwife. they even tried to tell me that giving birth at home in nj is illegal, which it certainly is not. so i said, "well if i arrive at the hospital in labor, what happens then?" and she said, literally word for word, "don't ask for our doctors". un-fucking-believable.
so i left and asked for a transfer of my records to my midwife and high-tailed it out of there. i sent a few informational articles to the office about the safety of homebirth and the risks of hospital deliveries. i wonder if anyone actually read it.
that same week i decided to finally mail the letter to Dr. W. she is the one who was there when my baby died but then didn't remember. i told her how it made me feel and that i would hope that in the future she would read the charts before walking into a room. she actually called me and left a really really long message full of "ums" and apologies. i felt really good about that.
so then we switched docs. my midwife suggested a home-birth friendly OB in the area. i couldn't get an appointment with her until my 18th week, though, so i had to see someone else. yes, i am high-risk, as much as i hate to admit it. i do need a bit extra. maybe for my body, or maybe for my mind, but either way, i need it.
prior to the first appointment at the new OB, we went to our first appointment with the MFM. the high-risk docs. they did an U/S, which hopefully we won't have many more of. i'd like to avoid any risk of exposure to the waves as much as possible. anyway, while we were there we accidentally saw a little penis on the screen. we (well, i) had wanted to wait until the little one popped out until we knew if it was a boy or a girl. but the picture looked just like cooper's and we figured it out. even though we had wanted to wait, we were both elated at the surprise. this surprise just came a little bit early. at least this time it was a pleasant early arrival. the doc there also made us feel pretty low-risk. she did encourage the use of the progesterone shots (17p). we are also going back this friday for a check on my cervical length. if it is ok, which i am positive that it is, as my membranes ruptured. i did not have preterm labor and i have no problem with my cervix. so i think that after friday we should be done at the high-risk docs, which feels again pretty damn good.
so back to the new OB -- dr. a -- we will just call him that and if you want you wish to assume that the "a" stands for asshole, that would be more than appropriate. i had a friend go with me for the visit b/c hubby couldn't make it. this is the same friend who also lost her baby due to prematurity a few months before i lost cooper. she was amazing. she stayed with me for the whole thing.
anyway, we waited in the waiting room for over an hour. then we waited in the little cubby of an exam room for another half hour. when dr. a came in, he proceeded to talk to me as if i had no idea what happened. as if i haven't spent more hours researching my specific situation than even he has. he was a complete dick-head. i couldn't wait to get out of there. the only reason i was there was for my 17p script. i wanted so badly to tell him that, but i had to play the game.
so i got the script written and that led to a whole new adventure. hubby would describe it as a nightmare. i guess i would, too, depending on my mood. the insurance co. counts it as a specialty med so i had to get it in the mail. in the end, it was fine. it got to me in time because of the debacle that was caused by dr. a. now let me first explain that i have two friends who have used this same shot. their husbands both gave it to them. when i had my appointment with him, i asked if hubby could give it to me. his response was' "is your husband a doctor?" what the fuck? is that what you spent all of those years in school learning -- how to stick needles in someones ass cheek?
i asked my school nurse if she could give me the shot and she said no problem. i called to cancel all the appointments that i had scheduled to get the poke. they checked with the doc who was in the office that day and she said no problem. the next day, i got a call back. dr. a had discovered the plot and wanted to squash it. he and his power trip couldn't allow some lay person to be giving out progesterone shots in the real world. shots cannot happen anywhere but in the doctors office. needless to say, hubby had poked me day and night for days on end during our IVF process with no problem. but according to dr. a, this is a difficult shot to deliver. hmmm...
i went in yesterday for the shot and to have a swab taken of cells from my crotch to make sure there was no yeast or BV developing. hubby came with this time and we waited in the waiting room for one hour and 13 minutes. i was getting more and more pissed off as the seconds ticked by. i don't understand this about doctors. why do we have to wait for them while they make hundreds of dollars? is their time more valuable than ours. no. it is not.
so i finally got into the exam room. we waited there for another 25 minutes or so. by the time the doc came into the room, i felt as if i would not be able to control my anger. i was pretty mean for the first few minutes. but then i began to lighten up. he was an older indian man with a happy demeanor.
i had asked if i could take the swab myself so that i didn't have to undress and sit there with my legs in stirrups. but of course that was a big fat no. it's just a long q-tip like thing. my midwife says that if i had gone to her for the check, she would have me do it myself. but, she is woman centered and i am her client. to the doc, pregnancy is a medical emergency and i am a patient.
so he spent a good amount of time talking to me and the hubby about the birth of cooper. he really wanted to understand what happened. he wanted to know why we left that practice. he made suggestions that made sense and helped me to understand certain things. he was talking from a very yogic perspective about everything and i really liked it. he even pondered whether or not i am high-risk. he concluded yes, but i love that he thought about it.
he checked my cervix -- long, closed and very thick. but i knew that because i can check my own cervix. he took a swab. again, which i could have done, but whatever. i liked him so i let it go. he checked the heartbeat. strong as usual. he was moving all around as the doc had to chase him with the doppler. we heard him kick the mic. he's a feisty one. much more feisty than his big brother. dr. mama (i had to say his name; i think it's spelled differently, but how appropriate) actually checked where my uterus was with his fingers and showed hubby and me. he pointed out the sounds in my womb as only my midwife has done. it was such a fresh experience.
he checked the swab under the scope...yup, yeast and bacteria. not a ton, but with my history, enough to treat. he gave me two prescriptions. once is category C, not exactly sure about the other. C means that it's a risk/benefit situation. here, risk is too high if i don't take it. i am pretty much convinced that it is the yeast and bacteria that caused my rupture. so we treat it and then we are good to go.
i am still confident that we made the right decision in using a midwife. i haven't gotten into one of her visits yet, but once you see the comparison, you'll understand why.
so i left and asked for a transfer of my records to my midwife and high-tailed it out of there. i sent a few informational articles to the office about the safety of homebirth and the risks of hospital deliveries. i wonder if anyone actually read it.
that same week i decided to finally mail the letter to Dr. W. she is the one who was there when my baby died but then didn't remember. i told her how it made me feel and that i would hope that in the future she would read the charts before walking into a room. she actually called me and left a really really long message full of "ums" and apologies. i felt really good about that.
so then we switched docs. my midwife suggested a home-birth friendly OB in the area. i couldn't get an appointment with her until my 18th week, though, so i had to see someone else. yes, i am high-risk, as much as i hate to admit it. i do need a bit extra. maybe for my body, or maybe for my mind, but either way, i need it.
prior to the first appointment at the new OB, we went to our first appointment with the MFM. the high-risk docs. they did an U/S, which hopefully we won't have many more of. i'd like to avoid any risk of exposure to the waves as much as possible. anyway, while we were there we accidentally saw a little penis on the screen. we (well, i) had wanted to wait until the little one popped out until we knew if it was a boy or a girl. but the picture looked just like cooper's and we figured it out. even though we had wanted to wait, we were both elated at the surprise. this surprise just came a little bit early. at least this time it was a pleasant early arrival. the doc there also made us feel pretty low-risk. she did encourage the use of the progesterone shots (17p). we are also going back this friday for a check on my cervical length. if it is ok, which i am positive that it is, as my membranes ruptured. i did not have preterm labor and i have no problem with my cervix. so i think that after friday we should be done at the high-risk docs, which feels again pretty damn good.
so back to the new OB -- dr. a -- we will just call him that and if you want you wish to assume that the "a" stands for asshole, that would be more than appropriate. i had a friend go with me for the visit b/c hubby couldn't make it. this is the same friend who also lost her baby due to prematurity a few months before i lost cooper. she was amazing. she stayed with me for the whole thing.
anyway, we waited in the waiting room for over an hour. then we waited in the little cubby of an exam room for another half hour. when dr. a came in, he proceeded to talk to me as if i had no idea what happened. as if i haven't spent more hours researching my specific situation than even he has. he was a complete dick-head. i couldn't wait to get out of there. the only reason i was there was for my 17p script. i wanted so badly to tell him that, but i had to play the game.
so i got the script written and that led to a whole new adventure. hubby would describe it as a nightmare. i guess i would, too, depending on my mood. the insurance co. counts it as a specialty med so i had to get it in the mail. in the end, it was fine. it got to me in time because of the debacle that was caused by dr. a. now let me first explain that i have two friends who have used this same shot. their husbands both gave it to them. when i had my appointment with him, i asked if hubby could give it to me. his response was' "is your husband a doctor?" what the fuck? is that what you spent all of those years in school learning -- how to stick needles in someones ass cheek?
i asked my school nurse if she could give me the shot and she said no problem. i called to cancel all the appointments that i had scheduled to get the poke. they checked with the doc who was in the office that day and she said no problem. the next day, i got a call back. dr. a had discovered the plot and wanted to squash it. he and his power trip couldn't allow some lay person to be giving out progesterone shots in the real world. shots cannot happen anywhere but in the doctors office. needless to say, hubby had poked me day and night for days on end during our IVF process with no problem. but according to dr. a, this is a difficult shot to deliver. hmmm...
i went in yesterday for the shot and to have a swab taken of cells from my crotch to make sure there was no yeast or BV developing. hubby came with this time and we waited in the waiting room for one hour and 13 minutes. i was getting more and more pissed off as the seconds ticked by. i don't understand this about doctors. why do we have to wait for them while they make hundreds of dollars? is their time more valuable than ours. no. it is not.
so i finally got into the exam room. we waited there for another 25 minutes or so. by the time the doc came into the room, i felt as if i would not be able to control my anger. i was pretty mean for the first few minutes. but then i began to lighten up. he was an older indian man with a happy demeanor.
i had asked if i could take the swab myself so that i didn't have to undress and sit there with my legs in stirrups. but of course that was a big fat no. it's just a long q-tip like thing. my midwife says that if i had gone to her for the check, she would have me do it myself. but, she is woman centered and i am her client. to the doc, pregnancy is a medical emergency and i am a patient.
so he spent a good amount of time talking to me and the hubby about the birth of cooper. he really wanted to understand what happened. he wanted to know why we left that practice. he made suggestions that made sense and helped me to understand certain things. he was talking from a very yogic perspective about everything and i really liked it. he even pondered whether or not i am high-risk. he concluded yes, but i love that he thought about it.
he checked my cervix -- long, closed and very thick. but i knew that because i can check my own cervix. he took a swab. again, which i could have done, but whatever. i liked him so i let it go. he checked the heartbeat. strong as usual. he was moving all around as the doc had to chase him with the doppler. we heard him kick the mic. he's a feisty one. much more feisty than his big brother. dr. mama (i had to say his name; i think it's spelled differently, but how appropriate) actually checked where my uterus was with his fingers and showed hubby and me. he pointed out the sounds in my womb as only my midwife has done. it was such a fresh experience.
he checked the swab under the scope...yup, yeast and bacteria. not a ton, but with my history, enough to treat. he gave me two prescriptions. once is category C, not exactly sure about the other. C means that it's a risk/benefit situation. here, risk is too high if i don't take it. i am pretty much convinced that it is the yeast and bacteria that caused my rupture. so we treat it and then we are good to go.
i am still confident that we made the right decision in using a midwife. i haven't gotten into one of her visits yet, but once you see the comparison, you'll understand why.
04 May, 2009
the power of positive thinking
so the second journey begins. or third, i guess.
we decided after much back and forth to use a midwife this time. we had taken a birthworks class in the fall and we loved it. we learned so much about birth that we didn't even know. i walked in on the first day and we talked about waterbirth. that is something i had always wanted. but when we lost cooper i figured a hospital birth was the only way for me to go. what if something happened? i would never forgive myself. but the more i learned and the more another pregnancy became a reality, the more anger and fear i had towards the whole medical world.
take it back to the day cooper was born. remember i mentioned the many things that ended up my crotch after my water had broken? and then the infection. i think back to that day and picture it all going down with a midwife. i knew from the moment the peds told me that 22-weekers have very little chance of survival. and if they survive, they have the major risk of all kinds of problems. i wouldn't do that to my little boy. he wasn't that kind of kid. he was a gentle soul. i just knew that if we strapped him down in that isolette and stuck tubes and needles in him, we would end up with the ashes of our little boy sitting at home in the end anyway. so let's say he was born at home at 22-weeks. maybe he wouldn't have been born so early. maybe i wouldn't have gotten an infection because we were safe at home with our own germs and no hands going up the crotch but my own. and even is he was born it would have been peaceful, with only family and friends around in our own bed. this is one time in my life where i really wish i had a time machine.
i had forgotten how awful that was. the docs were basically asking me if i wanted to try to save my baby's life or if i wanted to just let him go. who ever thinks they will have to make that decision. and it was on the spot. there was really no time to think about it.
so anyway, the midwife was secured after our first consultation. she was wonderful. we chatted for over an hour and she really cared. her father is an OB so we are kind of getting the best of both worlds. she is so calming. her tone of voice, the way she speaks at a bit above a whisper. we made the right decision. there is no doubt in my mind. after all of the different negative experiences we have had with docs, this is the way i will feel comfortable.
we decided after much back and forth to use a midwife this time. we had taken a birthworks class in the fall and we loved it. we learned so much about birth that we didn't even know. i walked in on the first day and we talked about waterbirth. that is something i had always wanted. but when we lost cooper i figured a hospital birth was the only way for me to go. what if something happened? i would never forgive myself. but the more i learned and the more another pregnancy became a reality, the more anger and fear i had towards the whole medical world.
take it back to the day cooper was born. remember i mentioned the many things that ended up my crotch after my water had broken? and then the infection. i think back to that day and picture it all going down with a midwife. i knew from the moment the peds told me that 22-weekers have very little chance of survival. and if they survive, they have the major risk of all kinds of problems. i wouldn't do that to my little boy. he wasn't that kind of kid. he was a gentle soul. i just knew that if we strapped him down in that isolette and stuck tubes and needles in him, we would end up with the ashes of our little boy sitting at home in the end anyway. so let's say he was born at home at 22-weeks. maybe he wouldn't have been born so early. maybe i wouldn't have gotten an infection because we were safe at home with our own germs and no hands going up the crotch but my own. and even is he was born it would have been peaceful, with only family and friends around in our own bed. this is one time in my life where i really wish i had a time machine.
i had forgotten how awful that was. the docs were basically asking me if i wanted to try to save my baby's life or if i wanted to just let him go. who ever thinks they will have to make that decision. and it was on the spot. there was really no time to think about it.
so anyway, the midwife was secured after our first consultation. she was wonderful. we chatted for over an hour and she really cared. her father is an OB so we are kind of getting the best of both worlds. she is so calming. her tone of voice, the way she speaks at a bit above a whisper. we made the right decision. there is no doubt in my mind. after all of the different negative experiences we have had with docs, this is the way i will feel comfortable.
29 April, 2009
now try this...
after returning home from the hospital empty-handed...oh yes, there was the teddy bear that was supposed to take the place of our baby...i had quite a road to tread. i spent the first week crying. there was a point in those first few days that i had eyes so black it looked as if i had been beaten in an alley somewhere. j went back to work after a week. i stayed home for three more after that. it was hell. pure hell.
but then life began to go on. i went back to the doc for a check up after 4 weeks. she said go ahead and try again if you are emotionally ready. we were. but then i started spotting. i went back to the doc. this doc (the one who had been there to catch when i delivered coop) asked if i was breastfeeding. what the fuck? is she fucking serious. it was six weeks ago. you watched my baby die ten minutes after i delivered him and you can't remember. don't you look at charts? i think that was when i first began hating doctors.
we waited another month so i could have an u/s to make sure all was clear. it was and we started the journey. remember, it only took three months last time. this would be no problem. we would be on the road to second-time-parenthood in no time. months passed. i bought every book about fertility i could find. we tried everything. i mean everything but the egg whites. after five months i knew something was wrong with me. something got screwed up in the process of carrying and delivering cooper. we went to see an RE.
nope. nothing is wrong with me. they tested me for everything. nothing. two more months. no luck. let's check j. somehow over the course of the pregnancy a vein had taken over in the sperm-making zone and we were not only qualified to attend "my baby died" support groups, but we could also attend "we can't make babies easily on our own" groups. wow. how things had changed. in the course of six months, what a new perspective we had on life.
two months of IUI. nothing but tears. and stress. and hatred. then we decided "why waste our time on this since according to the docs it probably won't work anyway and let's just take the plunge and move to IVF -- the mother of all IF treatments.
in the meantime, i had tried everything. applied kinesiology. ayurvedic herbs. acupuncture. supplements. eveing primrose oil. preseed. chinese herbs. meditation. yoga. everything. and nothing happened. i cried a lot. we fought a lot. but we didn't make a baby.
december 2008 -- began our first IVF cycle. january 19 -- egg retrieval. i had acupuncture leading up to it. two treatments that day. drank the chinese herbs. they got 11 eggs. i think. 9 fertilized. 7 made it overnight. in the end we had five. five little babies in the making sitting in an incubator all alone in a dark fertility center. january 23 -- transferred one blast. froze 3. then we waited. february 1 -- cooper's bday. february 2 -- we're pregnant. perfect timing for once.
25 April, 2009
who gives a sh--?
i have always wondered what draws a person to write a blog. why post information on the internet for everyone to read? it's no so much the privacy that boggled my mind, it was the who-the-hell-cares concept that i couldn't get past. why would someone want to read about a person's daily activities? is my life so boring that i have to check in on yours?
then i made a new friend. a "net friend", shall we say? she is a friend of a friend who is also an IF-survivor. two years. two long years she has been trying to make a baby. and her story helped me feel more sane and more connected to real people with real struggles. wait a minute. i was already connected to the real people in my grief support group. a group in which the parents met twice a month to share our feelings about how much we HATED pregnant people and how much we longed to have our little babies back in our arms. real people. together. in real life. in a room. not on the internet. so what brings me here?
another friend is a blogger. you know, one of the people i used to wonder about. who cares about the progress of your wedding planning? we have all planned weddings. it's really not that exciting to anyone but you. and now you want to share with everyone the daily goings-on of your pregnancy. we have all been pregnant. well, not all of us. some of us hate those of you who can just have babies. you know who you are. "it worked on the first try" or even better "we weren't even trying"...yeah. must be f-ing nice. so who the f wants to hear about that? don't you know that making a baby and actually carrying a baby until it's ready to be in this world is a total god-damned miracle. show some appreciation of that miracle and keep the shit off the web. christ.
but yes, here i am writing a blog about my pregnancy. i still feel angry that people share their little stories about the miracle of birth when they really have no clue what a miracle it truly is. and i laugh at their adventures in baby-land...you know what i'm talking about. babies-r-us and buy-buy-baby and baby-depot and whatever other warehouse names people have come up with for the business of baby-making. it actually enrages me to the point that i want to tell them all about it. but if i ever do they won't get it. they will just chalk me up as being wounded and bruised and feel so sorry for me and wish their was a support group for weirdos like me.
we're 15 weeks and 6 days pregnant today. again. this time last year i was tracking my fertility charts wondering why the hell it hadn't happened yet. cooper was born in february. at 22 weeks and 3 days. too early. he could breathe. he breathed. he snuggled. he slept on mommy's chest for his whole life with daddy stroking his head. i told him how sorry i was. it as all so wrong. so fucking wrong.
so here's how it started.
july '06 -- went in to school in the summer to meet the new guy and help him with curriculum. pretty cool guy. he had tattoos and earrings so i knew we would be just fine.
october '06 -- first kiss, already planning to make babies together.
november '06 -- bought a condo, living together.
january '07 -- engaged. can't wait to marry this guy, it seems as if we've been married since we met.
april '07 -- no more BCPs. we'll start trying when that nasty chemical is out of my system.
september '07 -- getting married in two months. and -- guess what? we're pregnant. and "it only took us three months". no problem. this having a baby thing is going to be easy.
november '07 -- we're married. contracted pneumonia on our honeymoon. was in the hospital. sick for a month with my little boy along for the ride. but he was just fine. no sweat. nothing to worry about.
january 31, 2008, 1:27 PM -- my membranes ruptured. i was 22 weeks and 2 days pregnant. right smack in the middle of the second trimester. no one worries during the second trimester. because "once you hear a heartbeat as strong as that, there is less than a 1% chance anything will go wrong" (docs LOVE percentages, especially when they make ya feel good). it's actually referred to as preterm PROM. preterm premature rupture of the membranes.
february 1, 2008 -- the best and worst day of our lives. cooper thomas was born. i got an infection. of course i did. since my water had broken a speculum and i think three other hands had entered my vagina. were they trying to make me go into labor? but hell, what did we know? they induced. oh, we're so sorry, we're going to have to induce she said with her hands over her mouth. she was really sorry. and she should have been. they all should have been. i should have been. i didn't know any better. how the hell didn't i know any better. this making of a baby is a god-damned miracle and it needs to be protected. i should have learned more. i should have taken more responsibility for knowing everything that was going on. i shouldn't have believed that an OB knows everything about pregnancy and childbirth. i should have stayed out of the fucking hospital. so he was born and i was medicated so i couldn't bathe him or dress him even once. we held him and we cried and we apologized because he really got screwed.
february 2 and beyond -- we began learning our lessons from cooper.
then i made a new friend. a "net friend", shall we say? she is a friend of a friend who is also an IF-survivor. two years. two long years she has been trying to make a baby. and her story helped me feel more sane and more connected to real people with real struggles. wait a minute. i was already connected to the real people in my grief support group. a group in which the parents met twice a month to share our feelings about how much we HATED pregnant people and how much we longed to have our little babies back in our arms. real people. together. in real life. in a room. not on the internet. so what brings me here?
another friend is a blogger. you know, one of the people i used to wonder about. who cares about the progress of your wedding planning? we have all planned weddings. it's really not that exciting to anyone but you. and now you want to share with everyone the daily goings-on of your pregnancy. we have all been pregnant. well, not all of us. some of us hate those of you who can just have babies. you know who you are. "it worked on the first try" or even better "we weren't even trying"...yeah. must be f-ing nice. so who the f wants to hear about that? don't you know that making a baby and actually carrying a baby until it's ready to be in this world is a total god-damned miracle. show some appreciation of that miracle and keep the shit off the web. christ.
but yes, here i am writing a blog about my pregnancy. i still feel angry that people share their little stories about the miracle of birth when they really have no clue what a miracle it truly is. and i laugh at their adventures in baby-land...you know what i'm talking about. babies-r-us and buy-buy-baby and baby-depot and whatever other warehouse names people have come up with for the business of baby-making. it actually enrages me to the point that i want to tell them all about it. but if i ever do they won't get it. they will just chalk me up as being wounded and bruised and feel so sorry for me and wish their was a support group for weirdos like me.
we're 15 weeks and 6 days pregnant today. again. this time last year i was tracking my fertility charts wondering why the hell it hadn't happened yet. cooper was born in february. at 22 weeks and 3 days. too early. he could breathe. he breathed. he snuggled. he slept on mommy's chest for his whole life with daddy stroking his head. i told him how sorry i was. it as all so wrong. so fucking wrong.
so here's how it started.
july '06 -- went in to school in the summer to meet the new guy and help him with curriculum. pretty cool guy. he had tattoos and earrings so i knew we would be just fine.
october '06 -- first kiss, already planning to make babies together.
november '06 -- bought a condo, living together.
january '07 -- engaged. can't wait to marry this guy, it seems as if we've been married since we met.
april '07 -- no more BCPs. we'll start trying when that nasty chemical is out of my system.
september '07 -- getting married in two months. and -- guess what? we're pregnant. and "it only took us three months". no problem. this having a baby thing is going to be easy.
november '07 -- we're married. contracted pneumonia on our honeymoon. was in the hospital. sick for a month with my little boy along for the ride. but he was just fine. no sweat. nothing to worry about.
january 31, 2008, 1:27 PM -- my membranes ruptured. i was 22 weeks and 2 days pregnant. right smack in the middle of the second trimester. no one worries during the second trimester. because "once you hear a heartbeat as strong as that, there is less than a 1% chance anything will go wrong" (docs LOVE percentages, especially when they make ya feel good). it's actually referred to as preterm PROM. preterm premature rupture of the membranes.
february 1, 2008 -- the best and worst day of our lives. cooper thomas was born. i got an infection. of course i did. since my water had broken a speculum and i think three other hands had entered my vagina. were they trying to make me go into labor? but hell, what did we know? they induced. oh, we're so sorry, we're going to have to induce she said with her hands over her mouth. she was really sorry. and she should have been. they all should have been. i should have been. i didn't know any better. how the hell didn't i know any better. this making of a baby is a god-damned miracle and it needs to be protected. i should have learned more. i should have taken more responsibility for knowing everything that was going on. i shouldn't have believed that an OB knows everything about pregnancy and childbirth. i should have stayed out of the fucking hospital. so he was born and i was medicated so i couldn't bathe him or dress him even once. we held him and we cried and we apologized because he really got screwed.
february 2 and beyond -- we began learning our lessons from cooper.
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