Déjà vu

I had my NST this morning and the baby looked great - movements were as expected and no signs of contractions.  When I met with my OB following the NST, I mentioned that I have been having a lot of shortness of breath in the last week (more than previously), and not when I was doing anything.  At night when I try to read in bed, I cannot find a position (other than sitting up, criss-cross-applesauce) where I can get a "full" breath.

(I won't bury the lead - everything is fine)

Because of my history of blood clots in pregnancy, her concern was that, despite being on therapeutic anticoagulation (blood thinners - Lovenoax), I might have a pulmonary embolism (PE - a blood clot in my lungs).  Shortness of breath is completely normal in pregnancy, but you can't really be sure without getting a more thorough evaluation.  So, off to the ER I went.

I was initially pretty calm and felt certain that I didn't have a PE, but my EKG came back abnormal (which may be my normal, apparently EKGs are somewhat like fingerprints and each are different) and so the ER doctor felt that the abnormal EKG coupled with the shortness of breath meant I ought to have a CT scan.  I haven't had one before and when they ran through the litany of risks, I started to panic a bit (radiation exposure being the key risk for both Mom and baby).  

Mostly, the entire situation felt so similar to when I went to the ER with Q when I did have a clot and it went from being a normal day when I was pregnant to everything crashing down in a matter of moments.  I tried to stay calm, but I was alone and everything started to feel totally overwhelming.

In any event, my CT scan came back normal (no clots), the doctor recommended I have a follow-up EKG 2 months post-pregnancy to see if my EKG is still abnormal, and I went about my day, but the whole thing really shook me.  I am 12 days from meeting this baby and even being so very close, I know how many things can go wrong and yesterday just reminded me of that.

Needless to say, I'm looking forward to wrapping up work this week (Friday is my last day), and spending a week getting some rest -- and hopefully the week will be uneventful.

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One upside to spending 5 hours in the ER is that I finished the book I was reading, Everything Happens for a Reason by Kate Bowler.  I can't recall where I first heard about it, but Kate is in her 30s, a professor at the Duke Divinity School, a mother and wife, and battling Stage IV colon cancer.  The book interweaves her experience with cancer and motherhood with her religious background and I really enjoyed it (in the way one "enjoys" sad books).  There were a few passages that resonated with me that I wanted to share:

• The book is dedicated to her son, Zach: "Zach, my darling.  I can see now how my beautiful life was always for you."  I sometimes feel so completely overwhelmed by how much I love B (and Q of course) and that love has just shifted my perspective about so many aspects of my life.  I thought she expressed that sentiment so succinctly and perfectly.
• Kate describes the moment she learned she had cancer: "There was a before, and now there was an after.  Time slowed to a pulse.  Am I breathing? I wondered.  Do I want to?"  This reminded me of how I felt when I found out Q's heart was no longer beating.  My world stopped.  And for a long time, I wasn't sure I cared.
• Finally, these words: "I have had two perfect moments in my life.  The first was running down the aisle with Toban [her husband] on our wedding day, and we burst through the church doors and stood, breathless, alone as husband and wife, gazing at each other like complete idiots.  And the other was when they put Zach in my arms for the first time and we looked at each other like it was a conspiracy of mutual adoration.  These are my Impossible Thoughts.  These are my Can't-Live-Withouts.  I cannot picture a world where I am not theirs.  Where I am simply gone."  These words prompted me to think of the "perfect moments" in my life.

I highly recommend Everything Happens for a Reason and if you'd like to read something similar that may be the best book I've read in the past two years, I recommend The Bright Hour, another memoir written by a mother dying of cancer.  Both books really shook me to my core.

Spring in Japan

We've now been in Japan for 3 weeks and just settled into a home in Kyoto for two weeks. I listened to a podcast while running this week of an interview of a woman who traveled with her family of 5 around the world for 9 months.  She talked about how they had "slow and low" periods where they stayed put for an extended period of time.  2 weeks isn't that long, but it sounds like an eternity right now and I'm thrilled that we can explore Kyoto at our own pace.  We rented a bike with a kid's seat (and have another that came with our airbnb), we have a kitchen and I cooked dinner tonight, and I'm looking forward to having some "normal" days.  Today we found an awesome playground just a 5 minute walk from our house, too.

I'm still feeling all mixed up about pregnancies, babies, siblings, etc.  I have 2 rounds of Clomid with me and I decided to take one round this month because -- why not?  If I don't take it, I'm just toting it around the world for no reason.  I feel fine but it doesn't seem to be working as well this time around (based only on the fact that last time I had a lot of EWCM and I'm not having that as much this time around).  I'm taking COQ10, but not DHEA.  I just don't like how it makes me feel and I worry that I've taken too much of it these past few years.  Honestly, I feel pretty hopeless on the pregnancy front right now and maybe that's okay?  Perhaps I'm coming to grips with reality and acceptance is around the corner?  We'll see.

An aspect of our trip that has been very difficult for me is the utter lack of alone time.  I'm outgoing and enjoy spending time with friends, socializing, etc., but there is part of me that is extremely introverted. I love and need to be alone for some period of time each day and I am just not getting that.  With B not napping and spending every day with R, it's been challenging and I know it i isn't helping how I feel about pregnancy, myself, my body, etc.  I'm getting far afield from wanting another child here, but I have realized that not getting some time to myself is making me a worse wife and mother, making me less patient, and shortening my fuse when it comes to B, well, acting like a toddler!  I've started running every day, which I do alone, so hopefully that helps, and I'm hoping for some solo exploration time in the coming days.  

All of that said, I struggle lately with knowing why I'm feeling a certain way or what is impacting the strength of those emotions.  Is it hormonal imbalance?  Is it lack of alone time?  Is it the inconsistency and lack of routine that comes from travel?  Is it just how I'm feeling?  I don't know.

To end this on a happy note, the days are filled more often with happiness and joy than anything else, so I don't want to sound ungrateful or unhappy - I'm not.  I'm just parsing through what I am feeling, which I don't get to do these days with a girlfriend over coffee or wine, or with a therapist, which is probably what I should be doing...

Also, I wrote before about Sheryl Sandberg's heartbreaking missive after her husband's death.  She just published a book about grief and loss and finding strength in such circumstances called Option B.  I've just downloaded it, but in case you missed the news...

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Love You Forever

Have you all read the book "Love You Forever" by Robert Munsch?  We have a copy and it is one of those books that I read when I need a good cry and otherwise don't because it is a reminder of our mortality and how quickly these little kiddos grow up.

What I didn't know until this communication from Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep was that the author wrote the book about his two stillborn babies.  The verse that is repeated is actually a song:

I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

as long as I'm living

my baby you'll be.

I'm feeling extra emotional today, but this song and this book tug at my heartstrings and I feel so sad for the author and his two babies.  A company called Little Orchard Co. in Canada has started the "Love You Forever Project," which includes a line of t-shirts and onesies using a line from this book: "love you forever."  Proceeds from the sale of the clothes go to Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep.  From Little Orchard's website, they say the following about the Project:

This tee was inspired by my sister who lost both her precious son and daughter within 10 months. Until that happened, I didn't know much about stillbirth and infant loss.  This tee is meant to bring awareness to the issue of stillbirth and infant loss. To the army of warrior parents, grandparents and family members, who have lost their precious children, I hope it will start conversation, acknowledge stories, and inspire.  This tee was created for every person who has loved a child. Whether it was just 2 lines on a pregnancy test, whether it was before 40 weeks, whether they took them home from the hospital or not, whether they hold them in their arms, or only in their heart.

13 Months! (and random thoughts)

Where did the month of January go?  I'm big on resolutions and goal-setting and last night I finally made time to write my resolutions for 2016.  Better late than never, right?  After reading Better Than Before (which I love and highly recommend), I am trying to set quantifiable and measurable goals and have a mix of personal, professional, fitness, and emotional health-type resolutions.  We'll see.  Even when I don't keep all of my resolutions, I find them to be helpful reminders of what is important to me throughout the year.  Plus, I love looking back at them (I have paper copies back to high school and have kept them electronically since 2006). 

Enjoying a warm winter day at the park (in pigtails!)

I've been all over the place with posts I have wanted to write, so I'm going to stick to a bullet-point list so I can get it all down:

• I read this quote and it really resonated with me: “Here is a little secret about grief, catastrophe, loss, suffering: you are exactly the same after as before.  Only more so."  I'm not certain that I agree, but it made me think a lot about who I was before we lost Q and who I am now.  Perhaps the ways in which I have changed aren't really changes, but just that I feel and experience those feelings and behaviors in different ways?  Incidentally, this quote was from "After Birth," which I loathed.  I haven't read a book that made me so angry in such a long time.  The protagonist spent most of the book lamenting how terrible the birth of her son was (she had to have a c-section, it didn't go as planned, blah blah blah...) and it was so irritating.  
• In trying to find the title of "After Birth," I looked at my GoodReads list of books read for 2016 and realized that I seem to be on a grief-death kick.  I also read "The Opposite of Loneliness" (the author died just days after her graduation from Yale) and "When Breath Becomes Air".  I'd recommend both of those.  The latter is intense (the author writes it while dying of lung cancer), but so, so good.  And "The Opposite of Loneliness" is similarly heartbreaking... the author writes of her hopes and dreams, about how she'll be in the future as a parent, etc.  And all of that was taken away.  Both were a reminder of even when things are bad, how much worse they could be.  I know that no one wants to hear "It could be worse," but sometimes it is helpful to have a little perspective.
• Oh, did you come here for news about Baby B being a TODDLER and 13 months old?  Well, fine!  B is... amazing!  She is walking all over the place, babbling (mostly) unintelligibly, smiling, laughing, reading, loving her stuffed animals, and generally causing trouble in the best way possible.  I write this in every post, but she is such a joy.  When I get home from work, we often sit in the study (effectively her play room at this point) and she sits in my lap and looks at her books (she flips the pages super fast and doesn't let me read to her).  I snuggle her and smell her head and kiss her cheeks and generally just smother her with love.  Sometimes it just is too much and I get super emotional... I feel overwhelmed by how much I love her.
• I am running a marathon on February 14th. I feel under-prepared but I know I just need to get back out there and get it done.  We'll see how that goes.
• My thoughts are still often with getting pregnant again.  I think that is a subject for another post, but you all are probably sick of hearing about it.  
• I stopped nursing.  I thought I would be very sad about this, but it was okay -- it was time for us.  B loves milk and I was tired of pumping at work.   The only thing I miss about it now is the snuggle time and the ease of nursing vs. having to prepare a bottle.

I'll leave you with a few more photos.  Thanks to those of you who are still reading.  One of my resolutions is to blog more frequently, so we'll see if I can stick to that.  The bar is set pretty low...

Good morning!

With my favorite girl before a day of skiing with my husband
(she was unfazed by the ski resort daycare, which was awesome).

11 Months and Hawaii!

Whoa.  Where did the last few months go?  Summer ended and everyone seemed to remember they had a job and all of a sudden my work flow picked up and, frankly, got totally out of control!  I haven't made time for much outside of spending time with family, work (including lots of travel), exercising (occasionally), and sleep.  And let's be honest... most of my time outside of work is spent with this nugget:

I cannot believe she'll be 11 months old this week.  Apparently I am supposed to start thinking about her first birthday?  Where did the last year go?  Does anyone have any first birthday party tips?  I swore when I was pregnant that we'd always celebrate her birthday so she wouldn't resent the fact that it is sandwiched between Christmas and the New Year, but now I'm wondering what we should do.  Perhaps it is time to get on Pinterest so I can be reminded of my party planning inadequacy!

We've been doing a lot of traveling lately, both for work and pleasure.  I had work trips to Washington, D.C. and Boston and now we are in Hawaii for 2 weeks for vacation.  A break from work and "regular" life could not have come at a better time.  I haven't been checking e-mail or text messagand I feel so refreshed and refocused, which was much needed.  And I've spent a lot of time thinking about just how much we have to be thankful for this year... which is easy to do when I'm playing in the sand with the sweetest little girl.  I've been reading Better than Before (Gretchen Rubin and I seem to be on the same wave length) and trying to stick to good habits and quash bad ones, which includes blogging more frequently and running regularly (I signed up for the Austin Marathon in February so I better).  Does anyone else enjoy Gretchen's books or podcast?

So, as we kick off the holiday season later this week with Thanksgiving, I want those of you who read to know I am thankful for you and your support and your willingness to share and listen.  And if any of you have taken a red-eye with an 11-month-old baby, I'd love to hear any advice you have.  While this vacation has been absolutely amazing, I am dreading the flight home...

6 Weeks & A Weekend Getaway

Greetings from Vail!  We packed up the car this morning and are on our first "getaway" as a family.  Friends kindly lent us their beautiful home in the mountains and it is so nice to be out of the city and in new surroundings.  I can't ski this year because I still have to take blood thinners, but we'll snowshoe, hike, pursue the village, etc.

My dad calls this my jailbird outfit.

Baby B is 6 weeks old... almost 7, actually.  I can hardly believe it.  Time is flying.  There are some really, really hard moments, but mostly being home with her is absolutely wonderful.  I love when she falls asleep on my chest and I no longer feel like I should be doing something else (emptying the dishwasher, doing laundry, making the bed, making dinner). I just embrace it (and her) and enjoy the snuggles.  They are so precious and I am so very thankful for her.  I seriously spend a lot of time just marveling at her tiny fingers and toes, her eyelashes, her soft skin.  To say I'm obsessed is an understatement.

One thing I have been feeling that I didn't really expect is absolute dread about going back to work.  Is this familiar to any of you?  I'm a lawyer by day and love my job.  I don't work crazy hours anymore and I can absolutely have my career and be a Mom... but the mere thought of going back to work is terrifying to me!  I have another 6 weeks, but it just does not feel like enough and I can't bear the idea of leaving B with someone else (even though we are set to join a nanny share with a woman who seems fantastic).  I'm going to give it a try and see how things go being back at work, but for the first time in my life I am thinking that being home with B full time would be awesome. I've just never thought that was the path for me, but maybe it is?

I also had my 6-week appointment with my OB.  My c-section incision is healing and I'm cleared to exercise (I ran yesterday and it felt awesome).  She only briefly mentioned birth control to me and I told her I wasn't going to take any.  Given my history, AMH, FSH, etc., if we got pregnant again, even sometime soon, it would be a miracle.  My OB did ask that we give her a few month break from the stress of having me as a patient :)  The conversation went better than I thought -- I expected her to push a bit and suggest I take something for awhile.

Sometimes when I am feeding B in the wee hours of the night/morning, I read on my phone and I recently came across this article: "I'm 41, Single, and Pregnant."  Definitely recommend reading it.  I've also been reading all of your blogs (those of you who comment), but I can't seem to comment from my phone while breastfeeding so I'm hoping that this weekend I can catch up and actually leave comments.  You are all in my thoughts.

This piece appeared in the New York Times yesterday and just hit home in the most poignant way.  The author describes her experience having a stillborn son, specifically describing her feelings about having a photo of Dylan.  The last paragraph really struck a chord:

I have often looked at that photo when I have felt ungrounded and alone, because this is the life work of bereaved parents — learning to inhabit, from time to time, a kind of necessary solitude, one that permits us to cull grace from agony. It is in this exercise that we can beat back despair and permit absence to underscore a beautiful presence as we gather ourselves and move forward. I remember. David remembers. He existed; he was here; he is here still.  

I sometimes feel this way about L.  We have so few tangible things that represent her and so few people talk about her that sometimes I worry she will just be forgotten or that she didn't really exist to anyone but me and R.  The entire article is included below.

A Photo of a Stillborn Baby, Proof of Life, and Grief and Memory

By TARA SHAFER

 DECEMBER 11, 2014 9:38 AM

When I heard my brother, a writer, read an excerpt from his book about a character’s memory of the stillbirth of his baby sister, I almost fell to my knees. The scene was a gift; the private, unspoken and unseen blossoming into the public and documented. There was a him. My son Dylan, stillborn after days of labor, existed, and was remembered.

My brother, David Shafer, author of “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot,” wrote the scene based on a photograph taken by a forward-thinking member of the hospital staff after my labor with Dylan. I was well into my third trimester when a blood-clotting disorder caused placental abruption, and I knew he would not be born alive before I went into labor.

As I write this, I recall being in labor. I am struck by my fractured memories, of how much of my labor and delivery was spent fighting to be truly present in that room, of how aware I was that his stillbirth would result in the kind of metaphysical scar that forever changes us, and how dual was my struggle: to keep him and to birth him at the same time.

How do we hold on to what we have loved and lost? To help, the hospital gave me a memory box. There were so few items to share with others; to my mother I gave a tiny heart to be hung on a chain, but we kept everything else, including a photograph.

Immediately after my loss, just discharged from the hospital, I sat disheveled on my bed holding this photo out to my brother David, who had flown across the country instantly when I needed him in the full snowy depths of winter.

Why did hearing him read the scene affect me so deeply? For a decade since the stillbirth, I’d imagined a shared community around losses like mine, though such hope had been whittled away. When I heard the scene, the hope suddenly regained vivid and sharp focus. In permanently recording the loss of my son, David helped me with the sieve-like quality of memory and its impermanence, which operate within a wider social taboo telling us not to dwell on our loss, or infect others with our sorrow.

After “Whiskey Tango Foxtrot” was published, David wrote to me about the photograph that inspired the scene: “It was a Polaroid picture. Those always make the subject seem ephemeral, like a fleeting memory. So when I saw this Polaroid of a stillborn baby held by his still-living mother — my nephew; my sister — I was seeing as much a ghost, as much a spirit, as I will ever see. The image stayed with me for years; and one day I wrote it down. That is a picture of him, there was a him.”

Proof of existence is essential to integrating loss, and this is the power of documentation. About that photograph: I have been cautious about sharing such a particular treasure. Writing here is the first time I have ever revealed publicly that it exists. Cheryl Haggard is co-founder of Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, a nonprofit that provides remembrance photography for families facing infant death. She says that pictures may provide parents with a sense of peace and healing because they give the bereaved a way to share their child with family and friends. She explains that from these photographs people are able to learn that these babies are important in the life of a family even though they are not physically present.

Much is captured in my Polaroid shot. As I held my dead son, I tried to trace what the memory of his physical self would be for me. I knew that he was dead, but still in his body I saw all potential that had been and gone, and even that seemed beautiful to me; I felt his radiance pulsing from him like waves of heat from stone.

I have often looked at that photo when I have felt ungrounded and alone, because this is the life work of bereaved parents — learning to inhabit, from time to time, a kind of necessary solitude, one that permits us to cull grace from agony. It is in this exercise that we can beat back despair and permit absence to underscore a beautiful presence as we gather ourselves and move forward. I remember. David remembers. He existed; he was here; he is here still.

Husbands & Loss

R and I finally decided it was time to take a few classes at the hospital (prompted by the fact that this is the last opportunity before our induction... nothing like waiting until the last minute).  Last week we took Infant Safety together, I took Baby 101 (R was traveling and missed it), which taught swaddling, bathing, diapering, and basic newborn care, and R went to Daddy Boot Camp over the weekend.

To tell the truth, we were both reluctant to take any classes. I am an only child and neither of us baby-sat much or has a lot of experience with children, but I was really nervous about sitting in a class with a bunch of parents-to-be who can't relate to anything we've been through.  I dreaded our situation with L coming up somehow and not knowing how to respond (and frankly, to having to respond and totally freaking out all of the other parents - ha).

Past pregnancies, L, etc. did not come up at either Infant Safety or Baby 101.  But it did come up in Daddy Boot Camp.  The class is much more hands-on and personal and started with each guy giving a little background on themselves.  R would never have shared L's story without prompting (and he didn't share any details), but another Dad shared that he and his wife lost a baby at 22 weeks last year and this prompted R to mention our story.  Apparently the other Dad came over and talked to R and they are going to get drinks this week to talk further.

This is all a long introduction into the fact that I've thought on numerous occasions how differently R and I have handled everything in the last year.  I think he felt like he had to be strong and stable for me.  And he is a problem-solver by nature, so he wanted to assess the situation and figure out the steps we could take to "make things better."  He spoke to his family and maybe a friend or two about what happened, but he didn't go to a therapist or a support group.  And truthfully, we talk less about L at home than you might think - my suspicion is that we both hesitate to bring her up all the time because we don't want to upset the other person.

When R came home from class, he immediately shared that it was surprisingly emotional.  He said it was very hard to be back in the hospital again (the class was just off the labor and delivery floor), to talk about babies, and to hold the babies, particularly since they were all around the same age that L would be (as part of the class, alums bring in their babies so the men can practice comforting them, changing diapers, etc.).  It caught me off-guard to hear him express his emotions about the class and it also prompted a really good conversation about L, about how we are both still so apprehensive about getting excited about this pregnancy, about how we want to handle discussing L in the future, about how we might finally spread L's ashes somewhere, etc.  It was so nice to talk about our fears and worries and we both agreed that we need to do this more.

This has turned into quite the rambling post, but this week was a reminder that we are both actively grieving for L.  Even if it feels odd to talk about it when we are hopefully on the brink of something wonderful happening, we still need to do it.

Do any of you have thoughts on communicating about grief with your significant other?  Any tips or advice?

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On a different note, has anyone read the book "Someone Came Before You"?  I've been thinking of ordering it and would love to hear your thoughts.

A Terrible Tale from El Salvador & 24 Weeks

My husband shared this podcast with me last night.  Quintanilla, an El Salvandorian woman, lost a baby at 7 months.  She was accused of aborting the baby, even though it was stillborn, and was imprisoned as a result.  I can't even imagine being imprisoned after the trauma of having a stillborn baby - being accused of aborting your baby when you had a horrific medical event that caused your baby's death.  The following is an excerpt from the whole story, but if you want to read the whole story, you can do so here.  I know things aren't perfect in the United States, but this is a reminder of how good we have it relative to many others.

In Quintanilla's case, an anonymous hospital worker had called the police and accused Quintanilla of having an abortion. As a result, she was dragged into a court case that lasted almost 12 months. 

She and her family members say they'd been eagerly awaiting the birth of her second child. They'd even had a baby shower for her. Quintanilla says emphatically that she did not kill her baby. 

The hospital had found no evidence that she had intentionally aborted the pregnancy. But the district attorney pushed forward anyway, arguing that Quintanilla had terminated the pregnancy because she couldn't support another child.

During the trial, Quintanilla says, her public defender was awful and couldn't even remember her name.  In the end, she was sentenced to 30 years in prison. She served four years before a young lawyer stumbled across her case and managed to get her sentence overturned. He argued successfully that no one ever established the cause of her baby's death.

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In happier news, I had an appointment yesterday(24 weeks, 3 days) and our ultrasound looked good.  My office will only do measurements every 2 weeks, but the baby was moving everywhere and looked great and my ultrasound tech (who I love and see every time I go in), said she was so upset that Dr. G mentioned the small head.  She said that if she were worried, she would tell me and that everything looks great.  And my doctor didn't mention it at all and felt like things were going well.  I'm trying to just take that to heart and be as calm as possible about things.  Next Tuesday I'll get another growth scan and hopefully her head will be growing!

In the meantime, my favorite 3D image from Tuesday.  She is starting to look like a "real" baby!  Look at that nose and those lips!  The image is a bit blurry because she would not stay still, but I love it (and her).  Thanks to you all for your support with my freak out last week, it really means a lot to me.

Amy Klein's Blog

Have any of you followed Amy Klein's blog on the NY Times website over the last few years?  She's been writing "Fertility Diary" and today wrote a heartbreaking update about the five embryos she got from her last round of IVF and how all of them are genetically abnormal.  I obviously don't know Amy, but I've been following her journey for so long and my heart just breaks for her, the same way it does whenever I read another story of loss or of failed fertility treatments.  If you are going through IVF or other fertility treatments, you might give her posts a read -- she's a great writer and has quite a story.

On Motherhood

I just read a really lovely post on Darling about motherhood called "When Motherhood is Unknown."  

"Motherhood is absolutely one of the most precious gifts in this life. It is to be celebrated and revered. However, we also need to remember that, for some, the journey to motherhood doesn't often go as planned"

In the midst of loss and infertility, it is only natural to think about how unfair and terrible one's situation is.  But I try to remind myself that there are others going through a similar struggle for very different reasons, whether because they are unmarried and not wanting to have children alone, have battled or are battling an illness, or some other reason.  It is just another reminder to always be thankful for what you do have, even when that feels impossible.  

Separately, I really enjoy Darling magazine - it's worth checking out.

Return to Zero

26,000 stillbirths occur each year in the United States alone.  With a staggering statistic like that, I'm always amazed that prior to losing L, I didn't know anyone who had experienced stillbirth or even mentioned a friend / family member who had.  That's just one of the reasons I think a film like "Return to Zero" is so very necessary.

"Return to Zero" is a movie that just premiered on Lifetime about a couple who experience a stillbirth with their first child.  I had DVRed the movie when it premiered, but hadn't felt up for watching it until last night... and I am so glad that I did.  The films writer, director and producer, Sean Hanish, and his wife experienced a stillborn baby, which prompted him to write this script.  You can read an interview with him about the movie here and read his perspective on their loss here.

The movie touched on so many things that I think everyone experiences with a stillbirth.... all of the questions about what to do with your baby that you never thought you'd have to answer (holding him/her, funeral services, delivery, etc.), the awkward comments from people, the fact that friends are scared to see you and don't know what to say, the terrible depression that can occur afterward, how hard it is on your marriage, how terrifying the idea of being pregnant again is... I could go on and on.  I love Minnie Driver and thought she did a tremendous job playing the woman who loses her son.

I mentioned to my husband that I thought this was an important film for people to see so they could have some perspective.... he didn't necessarily agree with me and felt like, had this not happened to us, we most certainly wouldn't be watching this movie.  He may be right that we wouldn't seek out a movie like this, but I do think it makes one more compassionate and understanding.

There is also a book inspired by the film that I ordered but have yet to read called Three Minus One. Has anyone read it?  I'm planning to start reading it this weekend.  Has anyone else seen the movie?  What did you think?

Beta #3

I made a big mistake and took another one of those Clearblue Advanced Pregnancy Test with Weeks Estimator tests last week.  Despite me already having had a HCG beta at 417 (which should trigger the "2+ weeks according to this study), I still got 1-2 weeks, which caused me to panic and head in for Beta #3 last Thursday.

Thankfully, it looked great at 1727!  I threw out the remaining weeks estimator test because they do nothing but induce panic.  Unfortunately, I can't have my six week scan to look for a heartbeat until the Tuesday morning after Memorial Day, I'm keeping busy this week (taking all of your advice), getting exercise (the photo above was taken on a trail run/hike), and planning a getaway with my husband for the long weekend.  I'm very tempted to go back in this week for another beta...

My mood has been dramatically better since the two good beta results last week.  I feel more like myself than I have since L died.  I both love how I feel and am terrified -- I know how low the low will be if this doesn't work out and that is so scary.  I love feeling like myself (or close to it) for the first time in months.  Don't get me wrong - I don't, for one second, assume this will work out, that I'll have a healthy and live baby, etc. - but the glimmer of hope has shifted my mood dramatically and I fear the swing the other way.

In the meantime, I finished The Goldfinch and moved onto Delicious by Ruth Reichl, which is a light-hearted, easy, fun read -- just what I need.

The Fault in Our Stars

Image from Amazon

Over the weekend, I finished the book The Fault in Our Stars by John Green.  I knew the story line of the book (the protagonist is dying of cancer in her teens) so I wasn't surprised by the sadness I felt when reading.  I was struck by a particular line in the book, though (I'm paraphrasing) - Grief doesn't change us... it reveals us.

Since we lost L, people have repeatedly said that we won't return to normal, but that there will be a "new" normal.  I do feel fundamentally different.  I am not sure, though, whether that different feeling is because I am actually different or I am just exploring and dealing with an entirely new side of myself?  I've never before suffered such pain or sadness or grief - and perhaps this is just who I am when I am in the heart of things that are inconceivably horrible?

It saddens me to no end to think that I might never feel like "myself" again.  As much as I love to think about L, to imagine what my life would have been like with her, to envision how we would have just celebrated our first Easter, I hope there is a time in the future when I can think of her fondly rather than with feelings of despair and loss.  It just seems like that wouldn't be the way to go through life and that at some point there must be a shift.

What I don't want to be is someone who is so defeated by what has happened that I don't ever find the joy in living.  I know L wouldn't have wanted that and I owe it to myself, to my husband, to our family, to be a better and stronger person than that...

Has anyone read the book?  If so, did you enjoy it?  Did it resonate with you at all?

Stillbirth Reading

Something I have found incredibly helpful since we lost little L in December is reading about other people's experiences with stillbirth.  I can't decide whether its a terrible thing for my mental state to be reading about other's grief or really cathartic?  I think it is the latter - I don't feel as alone when I know that I am not the only person this has happened to.  Nothing else I've experienced in life has been so isolating.  I'll write more about this in the future, but today I just wanted to share the books/articles I have found most helpful.

• I can't tell you how many times I've read this beautiful piece by Kate Suddes for Cup of Jo.  Ironically, I first read this when it was published in November of 2013 when I was 5 months pregnant.  I got about 1/3 of the way through the post and stopped because I had not even considered that something so unspeakably awful could happen.  I re-read it just days after losing L and everything Kate wrote resonated with me and still does.  One thing particularly hit home - people pretending nothing had happened. We would run into friends who would just not say anything about our loss (nevermind that I was also hospitalized for 10 days including 3 in the ICU).  It was as if they didn't ask, we wouldn't think about it.  I think of L every minute of every day.  Read this piece!
• The first book I read was An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination.  Again, it just helped me put into words how I was feeling.  My husband also read this and it really helped him to understand some of the emotions I was feeling that he couldn't relate to.  NPR reviewed it in a way that summarizes the book well and there is an excerpt.
• The Art of Presence by David Brooks in the NY Times is an amazing article on being present for people going through a tragedy in life.  This isn't specific to infant loss, but we'd all be better off reading the article and taking it to heart.
• Knocked Up, Knocked Down - A funny and honest memoir of sorts from a woman with first-hand experience with stillbirth and miscarriage.
• Pregnant Chicken on Stillbirth -This is a good read for some basics on stillbirth.  For example, most people don't know that if you lose a  baby after 20 weeks you have to deliver the baby.  In my case, it was a natural birth without an epidural (not my choice - I couldn't have one because of other medications).  This will help explain some of the details and offers some advice about what you can do for others to help.

I've checked out a bunch of other books from the library on the subject, but these are my favorites.  Has anyone else read anything they found particularly helpful/meaningful?  If so, I'd love to know what it is.

Book Review - It Starts with the Egg

I don't know about you all, but I obsessed with reading the latest books and research about infertility.  I particularly enjoy those that offer some practical tips for things that we can do without drugs to improve our chances of conception.  It helps me to think I am doing everything I can to facilitate getting pregnant - it is nice to have control over something through this process.

Image via Amazon

Author Rebecca Fett just published It Starts with the Egg.  After being diagnosed with DOR prior to turning 30, the author, who has a degree in molecular biotechnology and biochemistry and is a practicing lawyer, wanted to do everything she could to improve her egg quality.  I thought I had read everything on this subject, but Ms. Fett opened my eyes to additional (easy) lifestyle changes to improve egg quality.  The following are the key takeaways:

• BPA - Recycle your plastic Tupperware and buy glass.  This article from The Kitchn offers reviews of various options. Drink from glass containers (Life Factory makes my favorites) instead of plastic water bottles.  Eliminate other plastic items from your kitchen.  Think mixing bowls, measuring cups, coffeemakers (switch to a French press).  This is particularly important if these items are ever heated as the heat releases more BPA.  Only purchase canned food if the can is specifically labeled BPA-free.  The only current product line that is completely BPA free is Eden Organics.
• Phthalates - Phthalates are known endocrine disruptors and you should do your best to eliminate these from your life.  You'll find most of them in your bathroom in nail polish, cosmetics, lotion, hair products, etc.  The Honest Company makes a number of products that are phthalate-free and this article offers helpful tips on how to eliminate them from your life.  Start with scrutinizing the labels on your perfume, deodorant, shampoo, conditioner, lotion, laundry detergent, etc.  You are looking for the terms phthalate (can be buried in a longer word), DEP, DBP or fragrance.
• Food - Generally eat organic fruits, vegetables, and meat and avoid processed food.  Depending on your specific issue, going gluten-free may be helpful.  Regardless, you want to stick to low glycemic index foods (particularly grains), which predominantly means whole grains such as quinoa, couscous, kidney beans, lentils, and chick peas. Avoid white flour, pasta, bread - anything that is a "simple carb" containing white flour.  Sugar should also be avoided.  Basically you should be eating the things you know you should eat and that are good for you.
• Caffeine & Alcohol - Studies vary and everyone has an opinion on this one, but best to avoid both, particularly if you are preparing for an IVF cycle.   
• DHEA -75 mg day from a reputable source (like a compounding pharmacy).  Mine is prescribed by my RE.
• COQ10 - 300 mg/day taken in the morning with protein.  
• Thyroid & Vitamin D - Get both of these checked and get them into normal ranges.

Even if you have read all sorts of books and blogs on this subject, I think there is new information to be gained by reading this book.  Do any of you have recommended reading?