It's New Year's Eve. It's actually nearly 11pm and Ben and I are both still up, but we had fully expected to be in bed by now, so we've already opened the envelope that contained the results of our chromosomal tests. We already knew that the baby had tested "negative" for all the abnormalities, but we had asked the nurse to put the results in an envelope and mail them to us so that we could find out the sex of the baby on New Year's Eve. This was a good day to do it, too, since I just had my first appointment with my midwife today, after transferring our care back to my midwives after seeing the OB for the first trimester. She found the heartbeat right away and we heard the baby zooming around in there, just like Greta used to do. It's a good day to find out the sex of the baby, when I am feeling a little less anxious overall.
I gotta say, it's totally surreal to know this information though. We haven't even made the pregnancy fully public yet. This post, for example, is one of the ones that I will be saving as a draft for another week or so before publishing, because we are not "out" on the blog yet.
For us, it's not only bizarre to know the sex so early in the pregnancy, but it's just plain strange to know the sex! And to have found out on a piece of paper, without even looking at the baby. I still feel a little skeptical, like we just received the results of a virtual psychic reading instead of a lab report on cell-free DNA.
I have to say, I am more excited to know than I had thought I would be. I was very worried that I would immediately lose interest in the pregnancy, having been deprived of the remaining months of anticipation and wonder. Although I do worry a little about whether the remaining 6 months of pregnancy are going to drag more slowly, I'm still excited. It's nice to be able to have a picture in my mind of our complete family.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
And how was our Christmas? Did she get it?
The holidays this year were a bit crazy. I got sick right as my winter break was starting. Literally, the Sunday night before my first day off I got hit with a killer cough. It was like my body was saying, "Hey, aren't you supposed to be stressed out with planning right now? Oh no? You're on vacation? Well, let's see if we can find another way to add a little stress to your system!"
But other than that, things went really well. My mom was in town starting on Monday evening and then my Dad came into town on Christmas day. My mom and I went to the Science Museum for more "butterfly exposure therapy" for Greta. Poor kid. She really, really likes butterflies. Just not when they are too close.
On Christmas Eve, before I put Greta to bed, I showed her the empty stockings. We looked inside hers and saw that it was empty and I told her that sometimes special things happen on Christmas Eve and that tomorrow there might be something inside her stocking. On Christmas morning, I introduced Greta to the contents of her stocking -- a mandarin orange and a booklet of stickers. She was excited about the stickers and gently pushed away the mandarin orange. (I found this very funny, since she loves oranges, but I guess maybe it was her way of saying she didn't want to eat it right now.)
I think opening her stocking was fun and worth it, even at her young age. Over the next few days, though, she occasionally has pointed excitedly at the empty stocking and indicated that she wants to take it down and look inside. This has made me feel a little guilty for raising her expectations that, at any moment, it might be filled with treats again. It's a little hard to explain to a 21-month old that she has to wait a whole year for that trick to be performed again. But maybe it's a sign that it's time to take down the stockings and put them away for next year.
As far as her other education on the topic of Christmas, I used a pad of stickers to help explain the nativity story to her. I explained what was going on in each step as I stuck the different major characters on a piece of paper. Stickers are a great way to interact with Greta. They provide a visual aid for whatever you're talking about, and she's just generally fascinated by any information that comes in sticker form. After I'd told the Christmas story once, she wanted to use the next sheet of the same stickers again, and so she got a second rendition of the Christmas story on the back of the same sheet of paper. Then she wanted to use her other pad of stickers -- the secular stickers -- but I didn't have another piece of paper handy and so we had to just add to the nativity scene. Suddenly, there were snowflakes, polar bears, Santa Claus and stockings at the birth of Jesus. So . . . yeah . . . I may have botched that lesson a bit. Oh well, she's 21 months. I have time to clear up any confusion.
I have pictures that go with this post, but I am having trouble getting them off my phone. We'll see if I can add them later.
Sunday, December 21, 2014
Next Steps
It's December 21st, the winter solstice will occur in about a half hour, and I feel the impending return of sunshine like never before.
This week I am 12 weeks pregnant and feeling less terrified every day. We've made several personal announcements and are waiting to make just a few more before making this pregnancy public. I am excited and nervous, but also filled with hope and relief. Last week we had the NT scan and the results looked great. The next day, we got the results back for the Maternit21 testing that we'd had done and all of those came back negative (meaning no signs of any of the trisomies or microdeletions that that test screens for). The next day, I officially turned 12 weeks. In those three days, I felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.
I also have been feeling tiny flutters this week -- starting around 11w6d. I know a lot of people would say that that's crazy, but it doesn't really surprise me. I started feeling similar flutters in my first pregnancy probably around 12-13 weeks, but didn't realize what they were. At 15 weeks was when I felt my first kick from Greta, but I didn't feel it again until 17 weeks. Both of those times, I felt the kick on the outside as well as the inside. And since I have heard that you are more likely to feel the baby earlier in subsequent pregnancies, feeling the baby now seems appropriate and in line with its development, since we saw Piccol@ jumping and twitching during the ultrasound last week.
Speaking of the "@" symbol (I know we weren't, but I just typed it, so now I'm thinking about it), we will be finding out if we can call our little baby Piccolo or Piccola this time around -- and pretty soon. The Maternit21 test results are sitting on the dining room table and although we know that the contents of the envelope says that the baby screened negative for all the genetic abnormalities that it tests for, we asked the nurse not to tell us the sex and to let us open the results ourselves. We don't know how or when we're going to do this, though. It feels strange to me that we haven't even publicly announced the pregnancy and we could already know the sex. I feel a bit anxious about the fact that many people might not have time to get excited about the pregnancy or wonder whether we're having a boy or a girl before being told the sex. We waited so long with Greta -- the entire pregnancy we had no idea. It feels bizarre to know this early this time around and so I'm hesitant to open the envelope.
Obviously, there can be mix-ups or errors -- for example, if a Y-chromosome is detected I'm not sure that I'll entirely believe it quite yet, since there's a possibility that it will not be from this baby, but from cells that are left in my body from the baby boy that we lost last summer. Although it didn't flag this baby as having Trisomy 22 -- which also would have been present in cells left over from the baby we lost last summer. The lab knows my history -- so I'm not sure if they take the diagnoses and sex of the baby from the recent pregnancy into account when calculating the relative presence of the chromosomes. I've just heard that a recent boy pregnancy can throw off the results. But overall, the test accurately identifies fetal sex at a rate of 99.4%, which is definitely better odds than are given by most ultrasound technicians. So we'll see.
This week I am 12 weeks pregnant and feeling less terrified every day. We've made several personal announcements and are waiting to make just a few more before making this pregnancy public. I am excited and nervous, but also filled with hope and relief. Last week we had the NT scan and the results looked great. The next day, we got the results back for the Maternit21 testing that we'd had done and all of those came back negative (meaning no signs of any of the trisomies or microdeletions that that test screens for). The next day, I officially turned 12 weeks. In those three days, I felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.
I also have been feeling tiny flutters this week -- starting around 11w6d. I know a lot of people would say that that's crazy, but it doesn't really surprise me. I started feeling similar flutters in my first pregnancy probably around 12-13 weeks, but didn't realize what they were. At 15 weeks was when I felt my first kick from Greta, but I didn't feel it again until 17 weeks. Both of those times, I felt the kick on the outside as well as the inside. And since I have heard that you are more likely to feel the baby earlier in subsequent pregnancies, feeling the baby now seems appropriate and in line with its development, since we saw Piccol@ jumping and twitching during the ultrasound last week.
Speaking of the "@" symbol (I know we weren't, but I just typed it, so now I'm thinking about it), we will be finding out if we can call our little baby Piccolo or Piccola this time around -- and pretty soon. The Maternit21 test results are sitting on the dining room table and although we know that the contents of the envelope says that the baby screened negative for all the genetic abnormalities that it tests for, we asked the nurse not to tell us the sex and to let us open the results ourselves. We don't know how or when we're going to do this, though. It feels strange to me that we haven't even publicly announced the pregnancy and we could already know the sex. I feel a bit anxious about the fact that many people might not have time to get excited about the pregnancy or wonder whether we're having a boy or a girl before being told the sex. We waited so long with Greta -- the entire pregnancy we had no idea. It feels bizarre to know this early this time around and so I'm hesitant to open the envelope.
Obviously, there can be mix-ups or errors -- for example, if a Y-chromosome is detected I'm not sure that I'll entirely believe it quite yet, since there's a possibility that it will not be from this baby, but from cells that are left in my body from the baby boy that we lost last summer. Although it didn't flag this baby as having Trisomy 22 -- which also would have been present in cells left over from the baby we lost last summer. The lab knows my history -- so I'm not sure if they take the diagnoses and sex of the baby from the recent pregnancy into account when calculating the relative presence of the chromosomes. I've just heard that a recent boy pregnancy can throw off the results. But overall, the test accurately identifies fetal sex at a rate of 99.4%, which is definitely better odds than are given by most ultrasound technicians. So we'll see.
Do toddlers "get" Christmas?
Recently, several people have mentioned to me that Greta must be so excited for Christmas this year, now that she actually "gets it."
It has made me wonder whether my child is more oblivious than most, whether others' understanding of a 21 month old is inaccurate, or whether there is more that I should be doing to "prep" her for the magic of the season. It is most likely one of those things, though, because my child definitely does not "get" Christmas.
The closest we've come to that is that she has gazed in wonder at the Christmas tree a few times and has furtively touched the strand of beads that wraps around it. I guess she's also pointed at the nativity scene on our mantle and vocalized some of the animals' noises. She also is obsessed with a board book that my mom gave her that is basically the song of Jingle Bells set to pictures of adorable mice riding in a sleigh. It is fun to sing to her and certainly makes me feel like I'm involving her in the festivities more, but she just doesn't understand that there is anything particularly remarkable that she should anticipate on Christmas morning, much less, the Christmas story or anything of that ilk.
Should we be doing something differently?
She definitely got into the spirit of things on Halloween. We dressed her up as a puppy, which she mostly ignored, but she very much enjoyed the ritual of waiting for the children to arrive at her grandparents' house, going to get the silver bowl of candy, etc. I don't think she would have "gotten" Halloween without the tutelage of her grandmother, though, who explained the procedure to her while they waited at the door.
So should we be doing the same with Christmas? Telling her the Christmas story? Showing her the stockings and explaining that treats would appear (we have not yet bought any presents for her stocking -- oops) on Christmas morning? Or is she too young to understand this in advance and it is best to explain it in-process, the way that she was explained the rituals of Halloween? Or, should we appreciate the fact that our child currently has no expectations of this holiday -- whereas she likely will for the rest of her life -- and enjoy the fact that we don't have to stress about meeting her expectations?
Thursday, December 11, 2014
Milestone
It's December 11 and I am 11w1d pregnant with our new little addition, who we've nicknamed Piccol@ Bambin@, or just "Piccol@" for short. This was the last day of my second pregnancy -- I was 11w1d when we found out that Sparkie had passed away at 7.5 weeks. I can't believe how long it took us to get to this milestone. Since our miscarriage was a "missed miscarriage" (first diagnosed via ultrasound and not due to any signs such as bleeding), it's hard to feel confident that we've "made it." Instead, I still feel anxious.
However, we do know that the baby has made it to at least 10w1d, since that was when I had my most recent ultrasound and the baby was measuring on-track and had a good heartbeat. As if in response to my anxiety at this time, I also am feeling more pregnant than ever. I am more nauseated this week, and much, much more exhausted. I don't remember ever feeling this exhausted or nauseas with Sparkie, although my belly was protruding as much as it is now.
Even with the reassurance of ultrasounds and symptoms, my anxiety levels are high. Last week they drew my blood to do the MaterniT21 testing -- a non-invasive test that examines the baby's chromosomes in the mother's blood and can test for trisomy disorders like the one that Sparkie had. I know that I should feel relieved, knowing that we will have some pretty solid information about the baby's health within a week or so. However, instead I find myself feeling more nervous, knowing that amidst all the busyness of pre-Christmas work, we might be getting a phone call with some devastating news.
I feel very lucky that, since our first OB appointment at 8 weeks, we haven't had to go more than about 2 weeks at a time without further confirmation of viability. We had an ultrasound at 8 weeks, one at 10w1d (when I went in for the blood draw and to discuss the tests with the OB) and we'll have another on Monday at 11w5d. This has helped a lot. One of the hardest parts of losing Sparkie was the overwhelming feeling that I "should have known." That Sparkie had died for nearly a month and I was walking around blissfully unaware. Even though I worry about whether Piccol@ is still okay, I at least know that s/he was okay as of just last week. That brings this mama some peace of mind . . . and belly.
However, we do know that the baby has made it to at least 10w1d, since that was when I had my most recent ultrasound and the baby was measuring on-track and had a good heartbeat. As if in response to my anxiety at this time, I also am feeling more pregnant than ever. I am more nauseated this week, and much, much more exhausted. I don't remember ever feeling this exhausted or nauseas with Sparkie, although my belly was protruding as much as it is now.
Even with the reassurance of ultrasounds and symptoms, my anxiety levels are high. Last week they drew my blood to do the MaterniT21 testing -- a non-invasive test that examines the baby's chromosomes in the mother's blood and can test for trisomy disorders like the one that Sparkie had. I know that I should feel relieved, knowing that we will have some pretty solid information about the baby's health within a week or so. However, instead I find myself feeling more nervous, knowing that amidst all the busyness of pre-Christmas work, we might be getting a phone call with some devastating news.
I feel very lucky that, since our first OB appointment at 8 weeks, we haven't had to go more than about 2 weeks at a time without further confirmation of viability. We had an ultrasound at 8 weeks, one at 10w1d (when I went in for the blood draw and to discuss the tests with the OB) and we'll have another on Monday at 11w5d. This has helped a lot. One of the hardest parts of losing Sparkie was the overwhelming feeling that I "should have known." That Sparkie had died for nearly a month and I was walking around blissfully unaware. Even though I worry about whether Piccol@ is still okay, I at least know that s/he was okay as of just last week. That brings this mama some peace of mind . . . and belly.
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Dude, where's my period?
So my period was due today. It's 8:22pm on Thursday, October 23, and there are no signs of it.
I wasn't expecting it either. On Sunday, I got a positive pregnancy test. Actually, I got five of them. And then ten more between Sunday and today. I think with each of the previous two pregnancies, I took about 3 tests each. But this was the first time that I had a supply or Internet "cheapie" strip tests, as well as a few boxes of the more traditional plastic stick tests. And who doesn't want to see the word "pregnant" on a digital? And then I had heard of these cheap tests at Walmart where you get to use an eye-dropper, and so my scientific interest was piqued.... I may have gone a little overboard with purchasing pregnancy tests in the weeks after ovulation. But now that I have all of them, I feel like it would be pessimistic of me not to pee on them, right? Like I'm assuming that I'll need them for a future pregnancy?
Anyway, I don't feel a need to justify myself. This pregnancy is different. With my other two, I thought I would be a "crazy peestick lady" if I took a test before my period was late. And I was shaking in my shoes when I took those tests. This time, I tested early. 8 DPO: negative. 9 DPO: negative. 10 dpo, 2am while visiting our friends in Stevens Point: just barely a line -- so faint that Ben couldn't see it and I have to hold it just so in order to spot it. 10 DPO 6pm, after getting home from our road trip back from Wisconsin: clear positives on five tests.
There has been a downside to testing early, which is that once I had tested, I was pregnant (yay!) and had to adjust to all the pregnancy taboos (nay!), but still didn't feel like it was real. I strongly suspected that my period would come right on time and it would be like it had never happened. My abundant supply of cheap pregnancy tests has helped, though, and I have enjoyed watching the lines get darker each day. It's fascinating!
It also helped when the scheduling person at the OB-GYN clinic didn't hesitate to schedule me for an intake appointment at 8 weeks, despite the fact that it had been less than 4 weeks since my last menstrual period when I called. I was so surprised! I have never had an appointment that starts with an ultrasound before, as this is not how my midwife practice works. I had expected the first appointment to not be until 10 weeks, and that I would have to call ahead and claim "confusion" over my dates in order to get an ultrasound at 8 weeks for my own reassurance. I was very pleased that I could come in for a routine ultrasound and intake at 8 weeks -- exactly when I had hoped to have my first ultrasound, since our second pregnancy loss occurred at 7 and a half weeks, but wasn't discovered until 11 weeks, and that discrepancy had played a large role in the trauma of our loss.
As strange as it may sound, I actually feel less anxious then I thought I would have. I'm not sure how to explain that, as I had expected to feel absolutely terrified. And I am feeling even fewer symptoms than last time. And when I went in for the ovarian cyst, the urgent care doctor seemed to suggest that he thought I had a low chance of conceiving that cycle and should have waited because my lining would not yet be able to sustain a pregnancy. (He's not an OB-GYN, but the last thing I needed to hear on the day of ovulation was that any conception that might occur was unlikely to be followed
by healthy implantation.)
I can't explain it. So much seems stacked against us. But in the end, I think I just have a lot more trust that things will be okay. No matter what might happen tomorrow, my pregnancy test is pinker today than it was yesterday, and I am going to try not to let fear prevent me from enjoying my little poppyseed.
I wasn't expecting it either. On Sunday, I got a positive pregnancy test. Actually, I got five of them. And then ten more between Sunday and today. I think with each of the previous two pregnancies, I took about 3 tests each. But this was the first time that I had a supply or Internet "cheapie" strip tests, as well as a few boxes of the more traditional plastic stick tests. And who doesn't want to see the word "pregnant" on a digital? And then I had heard of these cheap tests at Walmart where you get to use an eye-dropper, and so my scientific interest was piqued.... I may have gone a little overboard with purchasing pregnancy tests in the weeks after ovulation. But now that I have all of them, I feel like it would be pessimistic of me not to pee on them, right? Like I'm assuming that I'll need them for a future pregnancy?
Anyway, I don't feel a need to justify myself. This pregnancy is different. With my other two, I thought I would be a "crazy peestick lady" if I took a test before my period was late. And I was shaking in my shoes when I took those tests. This time, I tested early. 8 DPO: negative. 9 DPO: negative. 10 dpo, 2am while visiting our friends in Stevens Point: just barely a line -- so faint that Ben couldn't see it and I have to hold it just so in order to spot it. 10 DPO 6pm, after getting home from our road trip back from Wisconsin: clear positives on five tests.
There has been a downside to testing early, which is that once I had tested, I was pregnant (yay!) and had to adjust to all the pregnancy taboos (nay!), but still didn't feel like it was real. I strongly suspected that my period would come right on time and it would be like it had never happened. My abundant supply of cheap pregnancy tests has helped, though, and I have enjoyed watching the lines get darker each day. It's fascinating!
It also helped when the scheduling person at the OB-GYN clinic didn't hesitate to schedule me for an intake appointment at 8 weeks, despite the fact that it had been less than 4 weeks since my last menstrual period when I called. I was so surprised! I have never had an appointment that starts with an ultrasound before, as this is not how my midwife practice works. I had expected the first appointment to not be until 10 weeks, and that I would have to call ahead and claim "confusion" over my dates in order to get an ultrasound at 8 weeks for my own reassurance. I was very pleased that I could come in for a routine ultrasound and intake at 8 weeks -- exactly when I had hoped to have my first ultrasound, since our second pregnancy loss occurred at 7 and a half weeks, but wasn't discovered until 11 weeks, and that discrepancy had played a large role in the trauma of our loss.
As strange as it may sound, I actually feel less anxious then I thought I would have. I'm not sure how to explain that, as I had expected to feel absolutely terrified. And I am feeling even fewer symptoms than last time. And when I went in for the ovarian cyst, the urgent care doctor seemed to suggest that he thought I had a low chance of conceiving that cycle and should have waited because my lining would not yet be able to sustain a pregnancy. (He's not an OB-GYN, but the last thing I needed to hear on the day of ovulation was that any conception that might occur was unlikely to be followed
by healthy implantation.)
I can't explain it. So much seems stacked against us. But in the end, I think I just have a lot more trust that things will be okay. No matter what might happen tomorrow, my pregnancy test is pinker today than it was yesterday, and I am going to try not to let fear prevent me from enjoying my little poppyseed.
Monday, October 13, 2014
Update
So it's been awhile.
Greta is approaching her 19 month birthday. We've had many ups and downs since our last post. Life has been full of new challenges, joys and sorrows and it's been difficult to keep up on here.
On July 4th, we found out that we were expecting another baby. We spent the next few months toughing out the morning sickness, preparing for a two-year age gap between kiddos, and announcing the pregnancy to some friends and family as we saw them.
We were devastated when we found out at an 11-week ultrasound that the baby had passed away a few weeks earlier. I had had no bleeding. No warning signs except the fact that my midwife couldn't find the heartbeat at my 10-week appointment. This hadn't surprised me, since the same thing had happened when I was pregnant with Greta and our follow-up ultrasound with her had revealed a squirming baby. We had gone into our ultrasound this time with the expectation that we would be reassured, not blindsided.
I could write a vivid entry on the painful experience of that day. As much as it is all a blur, I also remember elements with exquisite detail. The sound of the tech's voice. The images on the ultrasound. Staring blankly at Zoe Saldana's smiling face on the cover of a magazine while we waited for the OBGYN to come explain to us our options. Calling my mom to tell her what had happened. But reliving those memories only brings me more stinging tears, so I'm going to stop myself there.
I got a D&C the same day and we prepared to return to life as a family of three.
Everything since then has been a bit of a mess. A week later I nearly fainted at work and had to go to the Urgent Care to get checked out. Everything was fine -- just out of whack. A couple weeks after that, I had a dentist appointment and found out that I needed a root canal, which I got. That same week, my first period came and there were more tears. It was a very painful (literally -- I've never had cramps that bad before) reminder of what we had lost. A few weeks after that we received the pathology report telling us why the baby had died (an extra copy of chromosome 22) and that he had been a little boy. More tears. Last week I was having severe abdominal pain and found out that I'd had a ruptured ovarian cyst that was hemorrhaging fluid.
Are we feeling broken? Yes.
Greta is considerably less-broken than the rest of us. I am grateful that she is too young to understand what anguish we are suffering. Aside from a few nasty rounds of teething, she's actually thriving.
She is surprising me everyday with what she understands and what she uses her voice to say. A few examples:
She frequently requests help with getting into her little chair and being pushed in against her matching table. She then gestures to the other (tiny) chair and commands that you "sit, sit" as well. She continues this until you pretend to sit on the tiny chair, fearing all the while that you will break it.
She is starting to pronounce more "p" sounds. She says "papa" now instead of "baba" when referring to Ben. She also says "hop" more often, rather than her previous "ha." It seems as though everyday there is a new sound that she makes that sounds closer to the actual word than it did previously.
She is also walking with much more confidence. When I hold her hand and walk down the sidewalk, I don't feel like I have to slow down for her very much anymore. I can walk along with her at a nice stroll. She loves holding hands while walking down the street -- particularly if she gets one parent's finger in each of her hands and we walk with her between us. Ironically, this hand-holding interest sometimes fades at the moments when we approach an intersection, and there is some whining when she loses her walking privileges for not holding hands at the street.
Similar mini-tantrums also occasionally break out when she is required to sit in the stroller or the carseat. I am looking forward to the age at which this will pass -- particularly for the carseat, since there is no other option but to fight her until she is seated and buckled. I knew this day was coming, but it's no fun for anyone until she grows out of it. It's so frustrating to have to limit your mobility because outings aren't easy or fun with an upset toddler. Fortunately, though, she typically settles quickly after she is buckled. Whether it is the stroller or the carseat, she's actually a pretty easy-going kid.
This laid-back attitude has also made it very easy to wean, which we've just recently accomplished. I actually don't think I even did anything to wean her, per se, so it's not much of an "accomplishment." I don't even remember exactly when it was that I nursed her last. Yesterday I just turned to Ben and said, "Oh wow. I think Greta's weaned." Just like that. She'd been requesting to nurse less frequently. I'd been offering to nurse less frequently. Gradually, and yet all of a sudden, it happened. I feel bittersweet about this transition. It feels sad to stop nursing just as it gets natural and easy. On the other hand, it's nice to be fully done, rather than worrying about being forever stuck in a half-weaned limbo. I think the most important thing to me is that Greta seems totally content. Just now, I put her to bed on my own because Ben was at a work event. It was probably the first time I've done the entire bedtime routine on my own and not nursed her. It was as close to effortless as a toddler's bedtime can be. She doesn't even seem to remember that we used to nurse at this time -- which is, of course, a relief and a rejection all at the same time.
So that's our update. Joys and sorrows.
Greta is approaching her 19 month birthday. We've had many ups and downs since our last post. Life has been full of new challenges, joys and sorrows and it's been difficult to keep up on here.
On July 4th, we found out that we were expecting another baby. We spent the next few months toughing out the morning sickness, preparing for a two-year age gap between kiddos, and announcing the pregnancy to some friends and family as we saw them.
We were devastated when we found out at an 11-week ultrasound that the baby had passed away a few weeks earlier. I had had no bleeding. No warning signs except the fact that my midwife couldn't find the heartbeat at my 10-week appointment. This hadn't surprised me, since the same thing had happened when I was pregnant with Greta and our follow-up ultrasound with her had revealed a squirming baby. We had gone into our ultrasound this time with the expectation that we would be reassured, not blindsided.
I could write a vivid entry on the painful experience of that day. As much as it is all a blur, I also remember elements with exquisite detail. The sound of the tech's voice. The images on the ultrasound. Staring blankly at Zoe Saldana's smiling face on the cover of a magazine while we waited for the OBGYN to come explain to us our options. Calling my mom to tell her what had happened. But reliving those memories only brings me more stinging tears, so I'm going to stop myself there.
I got a D&C the same day and we prepared to return to life as a family of three.
Everything since then has been a bit of a mess. A week later I nearly fainted at work and had to go to the Urgent Care to get checked out. Everything was fine -- just out of whack. A couple weeks after that, I had a dentist appointment and found out that I needed a root canal, which I got. That same week, my first period came and there were more tears. It was a very painful (literally -- I've never had cramps that bad before) reminder of what we had lost. A few weeks after that we received the pathology report telling us why the baby had died (an extra copy of chromosome 22) and that he had been a little boy. More tears. Last week I was having severe abdominal pain and found out that I'd had a ruptured ovarian cyst that was hemorrhaging fluid.
Are we feeling broken? Yes.
Greta is considerably less-broken than the rest of us. I am grateful that she is too young to understand what anguish we are suffering. Aside from a few nasty rounds of teething, she's actually thriving.
She is surprising me everyday with what she understands and what she uses her voice to say. A few examples:
She frequently requests help with getting into her little chair and being pushed in against her matching table. She then gestures to the other (tiny) chair and commands that you "sit, sit" as well. She continues this until you pretend to sit on the tiny chair, fearing all the while that you will break it.
She is starting to pronounce more "p" sounds. She says "papa" now instead of "baba" when referring to Ben. She also says "hop" more often, rather than her previous "ha." It seems as though everyday there is a new sound that she makes that sounds closer to the actual word than it did previously.
She is also walking with much more confidence. When I hold her hand and walk down the sidewalk, I don't feel like I have to slow down for her very much anymore. I can walk along with her at a nice stroll. She loves holding hands while walking down the street -- particularly if she gets one parent's finger in each of her hands and we walk with her between us. Ironically, this hand-holding interest sometimes fades at the moments when we approach an intersection, and there is some whining when she loses her walking privileges for not holding hands at the street.
Similar mini-tantrums also occasionally break out when she is required to sit in the stroller or the carseat. I am looking forward to the age at which this will pass -- particularly for the carseat, since there is no other option but to fight her until she is seated and buckled. I knew this day was coming, but it's no fun for anyone until she grows out of it. It's so frustrating to have to limit your mobility because outings aren't easy or fun with an upset toddler. Fortunately, though, she typically settles quickly after she is buckled. Whether it is the stroller or the carseat, she's actually a pretty easy-going kid.
This laid-back attitude has also made it very easy to wean, which we've just recently accomplished. I actually don't think I even did anything to wean her, per se, so it's not much of an "accomplishment." I don't even remember exactly when it was that I nursed her last. Yesterday I just turned to Ben and said, "Oh wow. I think Greta's weaned." Just like that. She'd been requesting to nurse less frequently. I'd been offering to nurse less frequently. Gradually, and yet all of a sudden, it happened. I feel bittersweet about this transition. It feels sad to stop nursing just as it gets natural and easy. On the other hand, it's nice to be fully done, rather than worrying about being forever stuck in a half-weaned limbo. I think the most important thing to me is that Greta seems totally content. Just now, I put her to bed on my own because Ben was at a work event. It was probably the first time I've done the entire bedtime routine on my own and not nursed her. It was as close to effortless as a toddler's bedtime can be. She doesn't even seem to remember that we used to nurse at this time -- which is, of course, a relief and a rejection all at the same time.
So that's our update. Joys and sorrows.
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