Some of you may already have guessed, but I am pregnant once again. It's been a journey getting here. I wasn't expecting it to be quite so soon, but I've given up trying to plan/control things.
I haven't spoken much about it because at first I was terrified. Terrified that I would have a repeat experience of last time. So I waited until the initial test results were clear. They were. Then the scans. They were also normal. Everything looked good. But I still wasn't comfortable talking about it. So many things could still go wrong.
Also, this pregnancy has been hard. It's been the polar opposite of when I had my son. That pregnancy was easy. No complications, and I didn't even really "feel" physically pregnant until a few weeks before I delivered. I was able to go about my normal daily routine with minimum adjustments.
This time?
I. am. miserable.
I have non-stop nausea that is barely managed with medication. I ran out of my prescription a few weeks ago, and was right back to vomiting multiple times a day until I got it refilled again. I've vomited on myself while driving. It's awful, and it kept me from gaining any weight. The medication helps, but I have to stay on top of it. If I miss a dose, I am right back to vomit-central. I was hoping that it would fade after the first trimester, but nope. It's just as strong as ever.
On top of that, I also have pregnancy-related erythema nodosum. It's a pretty uncommon condition. Basically I have inflamed "nodes" on my lower left leg that are excruciatingly painful. When they flare (which is a couple of times a day), it literally feels like my lower leg is on fire. It wakes me at night and can make it difficult to walk or stand. I can't use the usual treatment (NSAIDs) because of the pregnancy. Instead, my dermatologist has me using a cream that is supposed to shrink the nodes. It does NOTHING. Basically, I gotta wait until the pregnancy is over and the hormones level out.
And now I have vertigo too. It comes and goes, but I have to be careful. No bike rides for me, and I have to be really careful on stairs.
Both the medication for the nausea and the erythema nodosum leave me exhausted. I have to plan my day in short bursts. Walking from the sofa to the kitchen. From the kitchen to the upstairs. From the garage to the car. Car to work. Office to the bathroom. etc. I'm still working full time, and it is difficult. I've had to be very clear on boundaries and expectations at work. I don't have a choice. I literally cannot do certain tasks, so I've had a lot of practice telling colleagues "no, I'm not doing that." (Not that my work has been overly difficult, but there have been situations where I had to let go of the guilt and feelings of incompetence because I haven't been able to do the work I usually do.)
Because of all this, I've had to think carefully about my expectations and plans. I dropped out of the Maryland Master Naturalist certification class because I just couldn't attend the classes with the nausea & exhaustion. I opted out of the promotional test at work, because I don't have the energy to study. With a newborn & a 2-year old, I couldn't risk taking on a new schedule/workload that would leave me with less flexibility. My goal is to just get through each day, honestly.
I know this all sounds miserable, and honestly? It sometimes is. Which is why I haven't spoken much about it. I don't want to come across as ungrateful. I don't want to jinx it. I still think about my last pregnancy every day (especially lately, as I was pregnant and happy this time last year). But as the weeks pass, this pregnancy gets more real and solid. I finally feel comfortable enough to really start believing that we will have another baby in the winter. I don't want to share due dates or anything, but I have passed the point in pregnancy where it is no longer a "miscarriage" if something goes wrong. We have another child to prepare for! A baby is coming, and that reality gets more real every day.
Meanwhile, kiddo is growing into a sweet, silly little boy. I feel bad about not being able to be as active with him as I would like (pretty much most of my down-time is spent on the couch), but I know it's temporary. We'll be back to playground trips and time in the backyard soon. I just wish he would quit growing so fast! He's starting to talk, and my heart melts with every "thank you mama! hi mama!".
Speaking of, someone is awake from his nap. So I will be signing off for now.
(P.S. my macbook's screen is slowly dying. I usually write my blogs on my macbook, so blogging will definitely be sparse until I can replace it. As it is, trying to write this on a screen that is messed up is giving me a headache.)
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
Monday, October 9, 2017
5th Annual Boundary Stone Ride
My laptop at home is busted, so I haven't been able to post much. Hopefully I can get that remedied soon. I also haven't been riding much, but that probably won't change in the near future (but for a good reason! I'll get to that another time). But that doesn't mean you shouldn't get out!
5th Annual Boundary Stone Bike Ride – October 14th
What: 5th Annual Boundary Stone Bike Ride
Where: Jones Point (Alexandria, VA)
When: Saturday, October 14, meet at 9am, wheels up at 9:30am
Who: All ages and abilities welcome
How: Register now! https://www.bikereg.com/
What: 5th Annual Boundary Stone Bike Ride After Party
Where: Boundary Stone Public House (116 Rhode Island Ave NW, DC)
When: Saturday, October 14, 8pm til close
Who: All riders and supporters 21+
Event details
History buffs, bike nerds, and adventure junkies unite! On October 14th, join us for the annual bike ride around the original perimeter of DC to check out the oldest federal monuments, the DC boundary stones. Each side of the diamond is approximately 15 miles of biking - join us for 1, 2, 3, or all 4!
The ride is sponsored by Boundary Stone DC, and all participants get a free beer ticket to redeem at the bar. The after-party begins at 8pm, with a band, beer specials on DC Brau Brewing Company beers, and PRIZES for best costume, best bike decor, and best selfie with a stone!
Four community bike shop partners - Phoenix Bikes, Gearin’ Up Biycles, VéloCity Bicycle Cooperative, and Bikes for the World - will provide rest stop support at each corner stone. The ride is free, but donations support their programming, including youth mechanic training, bike maintenance workshops, earn-a-bike programs, and more.
Register! Ride! For me!
Tuesday, June 13, 2017
Where has the time gone?!
It's summer already! We had our first taste of summer heat the last couple of days. It was brutal.
Last time I posted, I will still on family leave taking care of my mom (she's doing fine) and had completed the Errandonnee challenge. Then April came and I started the 30 Days of Biking Challenge. I was doing great with it, but unfortunately once I went back to work in the middle of the month, my biking became sporadic again. It's still incredibly difficult trying to balance working full time, taking care of the kiddo & all of the adult stuff I need to tend to. But I'm working on it. I'm trying to set aside at least 20 minutes a day for conscious exercise (a walk, a bike ride, a swim, etc).
Kiddo loves the Yepp Maxi seat I installed on Betty the Beach Cruiser. We've taken many rides to the playground. The only drawback is the limited carrying capacity--the Yepp seat has rendered my rear rack useless for carrying anything else. I have to rely on my front basket for everything. I can just about stuff the diaper bag in it, and that's about it. Now that beach weather is here, we'll probably switch back to the trailer so that I can haul everything.
I bought kiddo a balance bike, but so far he has shown zero interest in it. That's ok. It will be there for when he does.
You can always follow me on Instagram (@girlonabikedc) for more recent updates on our adventures.
Last time I posted, I will still on family leave taking care of my mom (she's doing fine) and had completed the Errandonnee challenge. Then April came and I started the 30 Days of Biking Challenge. I was doing great with it, but unfortunately once I went back to work in the middle of the month, my biking became sporadic again. It's still incredibly difficult trying to balance working full time, taking care of the kiddo & all of the adult stuff I need to tend to. But I'm working on it. I'm trying to set aside at least 20 minutes a day for conscious exercise (a walk, a bike ride, a swim, etc).
Kiddo loves the Yepp Maxi seat I installed on Betty the Beach Cruiser. We've taken many rides to the playground. The only drawback is the limited carrying capacity--the Yepp seat has rendered my rear rack useless for carrying anything else. I have to rely on my front basket for everything. I can just about stuff the diaper bag in it, and that's about it. Now that beach weather is here, we'll probably switch back to the trailer so that I can haul everything.
I bought kiddo a balance bike, but so far he has shown zero interest in it. That's ok. It will be there for when he does.
You can always follow me on Instagram (@girlonabikedc) for more recent updates on our adventures.
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| I've been making an effort to ride more at work. Easier said than done. |
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| Picnics in the park will happen more often. |
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| Took a bike history tour of Brentwood/Woodridge. It was very interesting. |
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| Walking with the kiddo. |
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| Yeah, he needs a bigger helmet. |
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| Not my bike at the beach. |
Thursday, March 30, 2017
Errandonnee 2017
...is completed! For folks unfamiliar with the Errandonnee Challenge, check it out here. Basically, you have 12 days to complete 12 errands by riding/running a minimum of 30 miles.
I'm actually pretty chuffed that I managed to complete this challenge. It has been awhile since I've done any sort of regular biking. I like that this challenge didn't require a daily commitment (that's next month, with 30 Days of Biking). I could do everything in one day or spread it out (I spread it out). Plus, it gave me the chance to finally try shopping & doing other useful activities by bike now that I live here.
Without further ado, here's the recap:
Location: Kent Island, MD.
Total Miles: 40
Errand 1: To The Playground! I put the kiddo in the Yepp seat on my beach cruiser, and we rode to the local playground for an afternoon of enjoying spring weather.
Category: You carried What on your bike?
Errand 2: Dropping the Kiddo off at the Baby Sitter's. Now that the weather is warmer, I will probably do this more often since its less than 2 miles away and way more fun than the car.
Errand 3: Coffee Pitstop at Waterman Joe's.
Errand 4: Spa Day. I got my hair cut, brows waxed and nails painted at a local spa/salon. It was probably the fanciest salon I've ever been to, and I stood out a bit with my bike clothes. But it was so worth it.
Errand 5: Stopped by the local bike shop. They were having their spring tent sale, so I stopped by to see what they had. I picked up some socks and a new multitool (I can't find my other one).
Errand 6: Off to Kmart to pick up some prescriptions and other personal items.
Errand 7: Rita's was finally open for the season, so of course I had to stop for a cone!
Errand 8: Crab Shack for Lunch. The local crab shack is finally open for the season, so I stopped for lunch. I had the crab cake sandwich. It was overly salted. Oh well. They have teens that work there, so I'm sure its just a matter of time before they get the recipe right.
Category: Non-Store Errand.
Errand 9: K-Mart (again). Needed some supplies plus a new coffee mug for the bike.
Errand 10: Antique Store. I needed some home decor items, and luckily my town has a bunch of antique and art stores. I managed to pick up a pretty sailboat here, and carried it on my bike without it breaking.
Errand 11: The Art Studio. I still needed something pretty for the house, so I stopped here. A small painting of red strawberries against a blue background caught my eye. The employee told me that it was painted by a local artist that recently had a stroke, and could no longer paint. He told me she would be so happy to hear that someone bought her painting. I'm definitely going back for another--she painted a beautiful heron that would look good hanging up on the wall.
Errand 12: Lunch Date with Kiddo. I want to do this more often, but he's still a little young. He's at the age where he just wants to throw everything, so it can be a bit of an ordeal eating a meal in public. There's a restaurant nearby that is open for lunch, and usually empty or with a few senior citizens that don't mind a boisterous toddler. We rode there and had a nice, but quick, meal. He had the hotdog and fries (he preferred the fries) and I tried the oysters Florentine. I've never had oysters before and I wanted to give them a shot. Not bad. I might try them again.
Category: Social Call
And that brings Errandonnee 2017 to a close. I am so glad I participated. I don't think I would have ridden my bike at all otherwise. I signed up for 30 Days of Biking for April, so we'll see how that goes.
I'm actually pretty chuffed that I managed to complete this challenge. It has been awhile since I've done any sort of regular biking. I like that this challenge didn't require a daily commitment (that's next month, with 30 Days of Biking). I could do everything in one day or spread it out (I spread it out). Plus, it gave me the chance to finally try shopping & doing other useful activities by bike now that I live here.
Without further ado, here's the recap:
Location: Kent Island, MD.
Total Miles: 40
Errand 1: To The Playground! I put the kiddo in the Yepp seat on my beach cruiser, and we rode to the local playground for an afternoon of enjoying spring weather.
Category: You carried What on your bike?
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| Off we go! |
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| Playground |
Category: Non-Store Errand
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| Diaper Bag in the Basket |
Category: Personal Care (caffeine is self-care).
Waterman Joe's is a little drive-up trailer on the local main street. Funny story: the first time my husband got coffee there, he parked his car and walked up to the window. Everyone looked at him like a nutcase. He didn't realize you could drive your car up to the window, he was so used to walking to places. The lady working the window was a little startled to see my on my bike, heh. She asked where I was going to put the coffee--in my holder of course!
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| I really should have brought my own mug. |
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| Drive up/Bike up Window |
Category: Personal Care
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| Fancy! This place was huge. |
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| No bike racks, so I had front porch parking. |
Category: Personal Business
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| Lots of Bikes. Especially Beach Cruisers. |
Category: Personal Business
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| Shopping |
Category: Wild Card
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| Delicious |
Category: Non-Store Errand.
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| Crab cake sandwich |
Category: Store
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| Good thing I was on my bike, otherwise I might have bought the grand piano for |
Category: You carried What on your bike?!
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| Antique-ing by bike. |
Category: Arts and Entertainment
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| perfect. |
Category: Social Call
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| He still prefers eating crayons rather than drawing with them. |
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| Oysters Florentine. Next time, I will try them raw. |
In other news, I am doing so much better than before. I took 8 weeks of family leave from work so I could concentrate on taking care of my mom & son without worrying about scheduling everything around work. I go back to work in 2 weeks, and I'm already in a much better state of mind. I'm still sad about the pregnancy loss, but its no longer a raw, angry, pain. And now that Spring has sprung and I've been able to get outside more, I feel mentally and physically refreshed. Getting outside in the fresh air is essential. Today is the first day in 2 weeks that I haven't hit my step goal with my fitbit (I actually forgot to take my walk today). I'm a little miffed that I'm breaking my streak, but that's ok. Back at it tomorrow.
Thursday, February 23, 2017
Moving On
At 16 weeks and a few days, I terminated the pregnancy. I would have been 20-something weeks now. I try not to think about it.
The CVS confirmed that there was an extra chromosome where there shouldn't have been one. I knew this was the right decision, but it was still extremely hard. This wasn't an unwanted pregnancy. I very much wanted this baby. It just wasn't meant to be.
My in-laws came to help out since my husband was unable to take time off of work due to the Inauguration. It was a really difficult time for me. I think I was in shock for most of it. I was definitely in a fog. I got through things one hour at a time, one day at a time. It was a strange transition to go from pregnant to Not Pregnant, and to not have a baby to show for it.
I decided that I was going to take the family leave that I was going to use for the baby, and take it immediately to spend more time with my mom. I went through the process of getting back to full duty at work (which was awkward and sad, having to explain why I was back to full duty), and then applied for 8 weeks of family leave, which was granted.
And that's where I am now.
I still have a lot of sadness and anger to deal with. Also fear. I know that should we be blessed to get pregnant again, it will be a fearful event, rather than a pleasant one. I will always be in fear that something will go wrong again, and I will have to go through this all over again.
I also have a few friends that are pregnant--around the same time that I got pregnant. And they complain. They fucking complain. And I keep my mouth shut but its hard, so very fucking hard to not tell them to be thankful that they don't have a dead or dying baby in their womb, and so very hard to not want to kick them when they complain about how uncomfortable they are. And I have to tell myself that I'm not angry at them, I'm angry at what happened to me and their situation is not my situation. But it still stings. And I bite my tongue.
The weather is gorgeous right now, and I've been spending as much time as I can outside with Liam. He loves being outside! I put the Yepp seat on my beach cruiser, and we've been taking rides to the playground. This time off of work was very much needed. Something had to give, and if I didn't have this option it would have been me. Paid family leave is so important (but that's a post for another day). I have 8 weeks to get my head back in the game.
Mom is doing great. Her last PET scan showed some new growth on her leg so we need to get an X-ray to get a better look. I'm trying not to worry about it. It's hard not to. We've started watching Mad Men together (she's never seen it), so that has been a nice ritual. This weekend we are going to meet her new grandson (my nephew)! My brother and his wife had their son a few weeks ago. So we'll drive up to PA and spend the night with them.
It's nice out. Go ride your bike.
The CVS confirmed that there was an extra chromosome where there shouldn't have been one. I knew this was the right decision, but it was still extremely hard. This wasn't an unwanted pregnancy. I very much wanted this baby. It just wasn't meant to be.
My in-laws came to help out since my husband was unable to take time off of work due to the Inauguration. It was a really difficult time for me. I think I was in shock for most of it. I was definitely in a fog. I got through things one hour at a time, one day at a time. It was a strange transition to go from pregnant to Not Pregnant, and to not have a baby to show for it.
I decided that I was going to take the family leave that I was going to use for the baby, and take it immediately to spend more time with my mom. I went through the process of getting back to full duty at work (which was awkward and sad, having to explain why I was back to full duty), and then applied for 8 weeks of family leave, which was granted.
And that's where I am now.
I still have a lot of sadness and anger to deal with. Also fear. I know that should we be blessed to get pregnant again, it will be a fearful event, rather than a pleasant one. I will always be in fear that something will go wrong again, and I will have to go through this all over again.
I also have a few friends that are pregnant--around the same time that I got pregnant. And they complain. They fucking complain. And I keep my mouth shut but its hard, so very fucking hard to not tell them to be thankful that they don't have a dead or dying baby in their womb, and so very hard to not want to kick them when they complain about how uncomfortable they are. And I have to tell myself that I'm not angry at them, I'm angry at what happened to me and their situation is not my situation. But it still stings. And I bite my tongue.
The weather is gorgeous right now, and I've been spending as much time as I can outside with Liam. He loves being outside! I put the Yepp seat on my beach cruiser, and we've been taking rides to the playground. This time off of work was very much needed. Something had to give, and if I didn't have this option it would have been me. Paid family leave is so important (but that's a post for another day). I have 8 weeks to get my head back in the game.
Mom is doing great. Her last PET scan showed some new growth on her leg so we need to get an X-ray to get a better look. I'm trying not to worry about it. It's hard not to. We've started watching Mad Men together (she's never seen it), so that has been a nice ritual. This weekend we are going to meet her new grandson (my nephew)! My brother and his wife had their son a few weeks ago. So we'll drive up to PA and spend the night with them.
It's nice out. Go ride your bike.
Monday, January 2, 2017
A year gone by
I started writing this post over a month ago, and never got to finish it. Much has happened between then and now.
I wanted to write about how after a difficult start to the year (my father passing away, my mother moving in with us, setting up her oncology and chemo appointments, etc) that things had finally gotten easier. That we had gotten in a groove. Things were ok. Things were actually looking up, in fact.
Well, the universe has a twisted sense of humor.
This is how the last 16 months have been for me:
August 2014: my son is born, we bought a house and moved out of DC.
September 2014: My mother is diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer, and I'm diagnosed with severe postpartum anxiety.
October 2014: Although my father's esophageal cancer looked like it had been beaten, new tumors showed up on his lungs. He starts Opdivo, as that's the only treatment option left open to him. My mother has a mastectomy.
November 2014: My father's health rapidly deteriorates, and during Thanksgiving week, he passes away. My mother begins chemo.
December 2014: My father's funeral, and my mother has a minor heart attack.
January 2015: My mother moves in with us in Maryland. We found a great oncologist, and she starts chemo treatments here.
February 2015: It has become painfully clear that my husband has relapsed in his sobriety. He goes to an in-patient rehab for a few weeks.
March 2015: Things start to get better. The anti-anxiety meds I was prescribed have helped greatly. My husband is sober again. My mother is doing well.
April-July 2015: We get back into a normal routine again. Scheduling everything (childcare, mom's appointments, etc) becomes easier as I've gotten in practice (my husband's work schedule flip-flops between mornings & evenings every week, so it can be a bit of a circus act to get everything scheduled without conflicts). Summer shows up, and we take advantage of the beaches nearby. We also decide that Liam needs a sibling, so we begin trying for another baby.
August 2015: Liam turns 1 year old. Lots of people came to his first birthday party, and it was terrific.
September 2015: Still trying.
October 2015: I find out I'm pregnant! Due in July. I feel great. My mom has a scan and it shows improvement! She's doing terrific. The oncologist is very pleased.
November 2015: Things take a major nosedive. Everyone in the house comes down with some sort of awful cold. For my husband, Liam and me, this isn't a big deal. But my mother has no immune system due to the chemo treatments. One afternoon, she calls out to me. She can't breathe very well. I can see that she is laboring to take a breath. I briefly debate taking her to the hospital myself, but then I remember that this is also how she acted when she had her heart attack. I call 911 instead, and an ambulance takes my mother to the hospital. My husband, Liam and I follow behind. We get there, and my mom is in one of the beds in the ER. She's still having a bit of trouble breathing, but she's talking and acting like her normal self. The nurse tells me they will give her a breathing treatment and some antibiotics, and hopefully that should knock whatever it is out. I tell my husband to go ahead and take Liam home. ERs take forever, and it would probably be awhile. They leave. I call my brother and give him a heads up. He tells me to update him if anything changes.
They give my mom an oxygen treatment that is supposed to help her breathe. It works okay for the first 20 minutes, but then she complains that she still can't breathe with it (it used a nasal cannula, and since she was sick, her nose was stuffed up so it wasn't helping). They switched her to a BiPap machine, which uses a face mask. She lasted for about 5 minutes before she pulled it off her head. She really didn't like the mask. The doctor came in an explained that the BiPap was really her last option before having to go on a ventilator. She needed oxygen. Her body was working too hard to breathe, and if she kept it up, she would wear her heart out. And if she went on a ventilator, there was a good chance that she wouldn't ever come off it. She agreed to try again, but after 5 minutes she started to panic. The oxygen wasn't going anywhere, and she was starting to become oxygen deprived. She was no longer coherent and wouldn't stay still. The doctor pulled me aside and asked if my mother had an advanced directive. I knew she did, but I didn't know what it said. He told me that the only option left was to put her on a ventilator. However, there was no guarantee that she would come off of it. That it was basically life support. I didn't know my mom's wishes, but I knew that if she did NOT go on the ventilator, she was going to die in front of me, and I didn't want that. I told them to go ahead.
They pulled me out of the room, and through the window I watched as as half a dozen people rushed into the room, held my mother down, drugged her and put a tube down her throat. I called my brother and told him what happened, and he said he was coming down (he lives almost 3 hours away). I felt so alone and so scared. A lovely lady, the hospital's patient services person, introduced herself and basically took care of me that night. She made sure I had a charger for my phone and kept me updated. When they moved my mom to the ICU that night, she escorted me there, and waited until my brother showed up before leaving for the night. My mom was in the ICU, hooked up to a bunch of machines, and I had horrible flashbacks to watching my dad die, and wondering if the same thing was happening again. My brother showed up and was just as devastated as I was.
We spent the next few days waiting for my mother to wake up, hoping she would wake up. The nurses that we met during this time were incredible, and I will never forget how kind they were. At first, I think they were skeptical as to whether my mom would pull through this--for folks that have never met my mother in person, it can be kind of shocking. Cancer has not been kind. She has lost a lot of weight and her hair. She looks weak. But she's not. She is literally the toughest person I've ever known.
After a few days, mom started responding well to the antibiotics and they reduced the sedatives a bit. She started waking up a bit--enough that she could gesture and write with a pen. What did she write? COFFEE. Of course. My mother is a coffee fiend. Things started to look better, so my brother went back home to get back to work. The doc recommended turning down the ventilator a bit to see how she did with breathing more on her own--she reacted well to it, so he recommended going ahead and taking the tube out. It only took 3 minutes, and I had my mom back. She was weak, but she was back. She stayed in the hospital for a few more days, and then a little more than a week after she was admitted, they discharged her. The following week she helped me prepare Thanksgiving, which we celebrated with my brother and his (pregnant) wife. Things look up again.
I mentioned I was pregnant during this, right? And just as my mom was admitted to the hospital, the morning sickness kicked in big time. I felt awful. It didn't help that I was also sick with some sort of awful cold on top of everything. I pretty much spent that entire week either at the hospital or in bed myself. I couldn't even really enjoy Thanksgiving because the nausea took away my appetite.
December 2015: The holidays. I'm super sick. The nausea is nothing like I experienced in my first pregnancy. I had no appetite, which was good because I threw up anything I ate anyway. I was prescribed diclegis (which is basically Unisom & B6). It worked like a charm the first time I was pregnant; it didn't do a damn thing this time. I pray that it eases up in the next trimester. I meet my new midwives and they do an ultrasound to check on the little squish. I see him squirming around and hear the heartbeat. Everything looks great. They print out a couple of pictures for me and I'm told to schedule an NT scan at 11 weeks (which was right around the corner) and register with the hospital for the birth. I go ahead and schedule the scan and send out the baby announcement (just to family and close friends) with our christmas cards (it was a photo of all our stockings on the fireplace, with a tiny baby sock at the end). I register online with the hospital, and they send me a nice little packet in the mail, including a little bib that says "mommy".
The day of the NT scan comes. The plan was to have my husband go to the scan with me. But my mom started having some breathing issues again, and the oncologist wanted her to see a pulmonologist and to get a chest x-ray. They both end up being scheduled the day of my scan. I get to play scheduling gymnastics again. Since I've "been there, done that" with pregnancy, and I've done the NT scan before, I figured it wasn't a big deal if my husband wasn't there. I asked him to instead take my mom to her appointments so I could go to the scan. He agrees.
I get to my appointment and take a seat in the waiting room. There a bunch of other pregnant women there. I try to remember whether it was the NT scan or the anatomy scan that my infamous "gun incident" occurred with my first pregnancy. I don't see any trigger happy security guards at this facility, so I figure I'm safe this time. I meet with the genetic counselor. She's very nice. I remember doing this with Liam. She goes over my age, my health history, my family's history. Also my husband's. As before, there's no glaring issue except for my age. Over 35, and I'm considered geriatric (or Advanced Maternal Age). She explains that my age there is a greater chance of a chromosomal problem, but there is still MORE of a chance that I won't so not to worry. I'm not worried. My husband and I are both healthy, and I've got a healthy kid! She goes over my options for testing and I I agree to the blood test (they can test for chromosomal abnormalities and tell me the baby's sex), but decide to decline the invasive tests (CVS and/or amniocentesis). I figured there's no need to do something that could potentially cause a miscarriage without a good reason.
They call me back to the room and tell me to hop up on the table. The tech squirts the goo on me, and the ultrasound begins. Immediately I see the squish on the screen. He looks bigger now! He's moving around a bunch too---no wonder I always feel like I'm going to throw up. He's doing gymnastics. I see his little heart pumping away too. He looks like a weird alien, just like his brother. I smile to myself. Then the tech put up the wand, looked at me and said "I don't like what I'm seeing. I'm going to get the doctor".
And my world crashed around me again.
The tech left me alone on the table, the goo going cold on my exposed belly. I didn't know what to think. The baby looked fine to me. Healthy and active.
After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor came in. He took over the ultrasounds machine and began looking again. And that's when I saw it too. The NT (Nuchal Translucency) Scan measures the the fluid filled sac at the back of the baby's neck and back. It should only be a certain width. Too wide, and it could indicate a serious problem. And even I could see that sac looked too big. "I'm sorry to tell you, but it appears that your baby has a 50% chance of a chromosomal abnormality".
I don't remember too much of that day. I remember texting my husband that something was wrong. I remember meeting with the genetic counselor again, and crying. I agreed to do the CVS test (they take tissue from the placenta) which is diagnostic and would tell us for sure what was going on (the NT scan is just a screening. There was also a chance that absolutely nothing was wrong. I kept reminding myself of that). They would be able to get me initial results within 2 days, and the full results in a week or two (they have to grow the tissue to test it).
A few days later, I was back at the same facility. My husband wasn't able to take off of work, so my mother came with me. They led me back to the room, where the genetic counselor I had already spoken with was waiting, along with the doctor. They were very nice and very sympathetic. In order to do the test, they had to do another ultrasounds so they could see the placenta. Once again, I saw my son on the screen. He looked like he was waving. The doctor explained everything they were going to do, and after a painless 20 minutes, it was done. Then it was just a matter of getting blood drawn for the blood tests. The counselor gave me her cell number and told me she should have the results by Friday and that she would call me as soon as she got them.
The next few days were a blur. I was still sick as a dog with nausea. I had to take it easy because the CVS test carries a risk of miscarriage. I still went to work, but I stayed off my feet.
Friday came, and by the afternoon I still hadn't heard anything. I called the counselor's cell and she told me she would call the lab. 15 minutes later she called me back and told me there had been a delay in getting the sample to the lab, so they wouldn't have anything until the following day. She assured me they were open on Saturdays (and this would be Christmas Eve) and that she would let me know as soon as she had the results.
Christmas Eve came, and I started driving to work. I was on the Bay Bridge when she called. She asked if it was a good time (never a good sign) and I told her I was driving. She asked if I wanted to wait until I got to work to talk (NO!). I asked her to tell me whether it was good news or bad news. She confirmed it was bad news. The blood test and the CVS test both confirmed there was an extra chromosome where there shouldn't be one. I thanked her for calling me and told her I would call her when I got to work. I hung up and cried the entire ride in.
When I called her back, she just reiterated what she already told me, and that to know exactly how severe it would be would take the full results (a week or so). She also confirmed that I was carrying a boy. She also stated there was a chance of miscarriage or stillbirth.
I spent the rest of my workday trying not to fall apart. I called my husband and told him the news. He was just as devastated as I was. When I got home from work, we talked some more. I told him I wanted to end the pregnancy. I couldn't go through this. Even if this child lived to be born, I just didn't think I had what it took to take care of someone that would need so much care.
At 13 weeks and 2 days, I told my midwife that I wanted to end the pregnancy.
And that's where I am right now. Stuck in between. Still pregnant, but....not for long. No longer expecting a baby. Heartbroken.
I have no idea how to feel. I have no idea how to respond when people ask me how the pregnancy is going. I have to keep going like nothing has changed. This sucks. They said treat it like a loss, but I'm. Still. Pregnant.
I'm waiting for my follow-up with the Maternal Fetal Medicine specialist to learn the full results of the CVS. Then we'll schedule the termination.
I thought 2016 was going to be better. I was wrong.
I wanted to write about how after a difficult start to the year (my father passing away, my mother moving in with us, setting up her oncology and chemo appointments, etc) that things had finally gotten easier. That we had gotten in a groove. Things were ok. Things were actually looking up, in fact.
Well, the universe has a twisted sense of humor.
This is how the last 16 months have been for me:
August 2014: my son is born, we bought a house and moved out of DC.
September 2014: My mother is diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer, and I'm diagnosed with severe postpartum anxiety.
October 2014: Although my father's esophageal cancer looked like it had been beaten, new tumors showed up on his lungs. He starts Opdivo, as that's the only treatment option left open to him. My mother has a mastectomy.
November 2014: My father's health rapidly deteriorates, and during Thanksgiving week, he passes away. My mother begins chemo.
December 2014: My father's funeral, and my mother has a minor heart attack.
January 2015: My mother moves in with us in Maryland. We found a great oncologist, and she starts chemo treatments here.
February 2015: It has become painfully clear that my husband has relapsed in his sobriety. He goes to an in-patient rehab for a few weeks.
March 2015: Things start to get better. The anti-anxiety meds I was prescribed have helped greatly. My husband is sober again. My mother is doing well.
April-July 2015: We get back into a normal routine again. Scheduling everything (childcare, mom's appointments, etc) becomes easier as I've gotten in practice (my husband's work schedule flip-flops between mornings & evenings every week, so it can be a bit of a circus act to get everything scheduled without conflicts). Summer shows up, and we take advantage of the beaches nearby. We also decide that Liam needs a sibling, so we begin trying for another baby.
August 2015: Liam turns 1 year old. Lots of people came to his first birthday party, and it was terrific.
September 2015: Still trying.
October 2015: I find out I'm pregnant! Due in July. I feel great. My mom has a scan and it shows improvement! She's doing terrific. The oncologist is very pleased.
November 2015: Things take a major nosedive. Everyone in the house comes down with some sort of awful cold. For my husband, Liam and me, this isn't a big deal. But my mother has no immune system due to the chemo treatments. One afternoon, she calls out to me. She can't breathe very well. I can see that she is laboring to take a breath. I briefly debate taking her to the hospital myself, but then I remember that this is also how she acted when she had her heart attack. I call 911 instead, and an ambulance takes my mother to the hospital. My husband, Liam and I follow behind. We get there, and my mom is in one of the beds in the ER. She's still having a bit of trouble breathing, but she's talking and acting like her normal self. The nurse tells me they will give her a breathing treatment and some antibiotics, and hopefully that should knock whatever it is out. I tell my husband to go ahead and take Liam home. ERs take forever, and it would probably be awhile. They leave. I call my brother and give him a heads up. He tells me to update him if anything changes.
They give my mom an oxygen treatment that is supposed to help her breathe. It works okay for the first 20 minutes, but then she complains that she still can't breathe with it (it used a nasal cannula, and since she was sick, her nose was stuffed up so it wasn't helping). They switched her to a BiPap machine, which uses a face mask. She lasted for about 5 minutes before she pulled it off her head. She really didn't like the mask. The doctor came in an explained that the BiPap was really her last option before having to go on a ventilator. She needed oxygen. Her body was working too hard to breathe, and if she kept it up, she would wear her heart out. And if she went on a ventilator, there was a good chance that she wouldn't ever come off it. She agreed to try again, but after 5 minutes she started to panic. The oxygen wasn't going anywhere, and she was starting to become oxygen deprived. She was no longer coherent and wouldn't stay still. The doctor pulled me aside and asked if my mother had an advanced directive. I knew she did, but I didn't know what it said. He told me that the only option left was to put her on a ventilator. However, there was no guarantee that she would come off of it. That it was basically life support. I didn't know my mom's wishes, but I knew that if she did NOT go on the ventilator, she was going to die in front of me, and I didn't want that. I told them to go ahead.
They pulled me out of the room, and through the window I watched as as half a dozen people rushed into the room, held my mother down, drugged her and put a tube down her throat. I called my brother and told him what happened, and he said he was coming down (he lives almost 3 hours away). I felt so alone and so scared. A lovely lady, the hospital's patient services person, introduced herself and basically took care of me that night. She made sure I had a charger for my phone and kept me updated. When they moved my mom to the ICU that night, she escorted me there, and waited until my brother showed up before leaving for the night. My mom was in the ICU, hooked up to a bunch of machines, and I had horrible flashbacks to watching my dad die, and wondering if the same thing was happening again. My brother showed up and was just as devastated as I was.
We spent the next few days waiting for my mother to wake up, hoping she would wake up. The nurses that we met during this time were incredible, and I will never forget how kind they were. At first, I think they were skeptical as to whether my mom would pull through this--for folks that have never met my mother in person, it can be kind of shocking. Cancer has not been kind. She has lost a lot of weight and her hair. She looks weak. But she's not. She is literally the toughest person I've ever known.
After a few days, mom started responding well to the antibiotics and they reduced the sedatives a bit. She started waking up a bit--enough that she could gesture and write with a pen. What did she write? COFFEE. Of course. My mother is a coffee fiend. Things started to look better, so my brother went back home to get back to work. The doc recommended turning down the ventilator a bit to see how she did with breathing more on her own--she reacted well to it, so he recommended going ahead and taking the tube out. It only took 3 minutes, and I had my mom back. She was weak, but she was back. She stayed in the hospital for a few more days, and then a little more than a week after she was admitted, they discharged her. The following week she helped me prepare Thanksgiving, which we celebrated with my brother and his (pregnant) wife. Things look up again.
I mentioned I was pregnant during this, right? And just as my mom was admitted to the hospital, the morning sickness kicked in big time. I felt awful. It didn't help that I was also sick with some sort of awful cold on top of everything. I pretty much spent that entire week either at the hospital or in bed myself. I couldn't even really enjoy Thanksgiving because the nausea took away my appetite.
December 2015: The holidays. I'm super sick. The nausea is nothing like I experienced in my first pregnancy. I had no appetite, which was good because I threw up anything I ate anyway. I was prescribed diclegis (which is basically Unisom & B6). It worked like a charm the first time I was pregnant; it didn't do a damn thing this time. I pray that it eases up in the next trimester. I meet my new midwives and they do an ultrasound to check on the little squish. I see him squirming around and hear the heartbeat. Everything looks great. They print out a couple of pictures for me and I'm told to schedule an NT scan at 11 weeks (which was right around the corner) and register with the hospital for the birth. I go ahead and schedule the scan and send out the baby announcement (just to family and close friends) with our christmas cards (it was a photo of all our stockings on the fireplace, with a tiny baby sock at the end). I register online with the hospital, and they send me a nice little packet in the mail, including a little bib that says "mommy".
The day of the NT scan comes. The plan was to have my husband go to the scan with me. But my mom started having some breathing issues again, and the oncologist wanted her to see a pulmonologist and to get a chest x-ray. They both end up being scheduled the day of my scan. I get to play scheduling gymnastics again. Since I've "been there, done that" with pregnancy, and I've done the NT scan before, I figured it wasn't a big deal if my husband wasn't there. I asked him to instead take my mom to her appointments so I could go to the scan. He agrees.
I get to my appointment and take a seat in the waiting room. There a bunch of other pregnant women there. I try to remember whether it was the NT scan or the anatomy scan that my infamous "gun incident" occurred with my first pregnancy. I don't see any trigger happy security guards at this facility, so I figure I'm safe this time. I meet with the genetic counselor. She's very nice. I remember doing this with Liam. She goes over my age, my health history, my family's history. Also my husband's. As before, there's no glaring issue except for my age. Over 35, and I'm considered geriatric (or Advanced Maternal Age). She explains that my age there is a greater chance of a chromosomal problem, but there is still MORE of a chance that I won't so not to worry. I'm not worried. My husband and I are both healthy, and I've got a healthy kid! She goes over my options for testing and I I agree to the blood test (they can test for chromosomal abnormalities and tell me the baby's sex), but decide to decline the invasive tests (CVS and/or amniocentesis). I figured there's no need to do something that could potentially cause a miscarriage without a good reason.
They call me back to the room and tell me to hop up on the table. The tech squirts the goo on me, and the ultrasound begins. Immediately I see the squish on the screen. He looks bigger now! He's moving around a bunch too---no wonder I always feel like I'm going to throw up. He's doing gymnastics. I see his little heart pumping away too. He looks like a weird alien, just like his brother. I smile to myself. Then the tech put up the wand, looked at me and said "I don't like what I'm seeing. I'm going to get the doctor".
And my world crashed around me again.
The tech left me alone on the table, the goo going cold on my exposed belly. I didn't know what to think. The baby looked fine to me. Healthy and active.
After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor came in. He took over the ultrasounds machine and began looking again. And that's when I saw it too. The NT (Nuchal Translucency) Scan measures the the fluid filled sac at the back of the baby's neck and back. It should only be a certain width. Too wide, and it could indicate a serious problem. And even I could see that sac looked too big. "I'm sorry to tell you, but it appears that your baby has a 50% chance of a chromosomal abnormality".
I don't remember too much of that day. I remember texting my husband that something was wrong. I remember meeting with the genetic counselor again, and crying. I agreed to do the CVS test (they take tissue from the placenta) which is diagnostic and would tell us for sure what was going on (the NT scan is just a screening. There was also a chance that absolutely nothing was wrong. I kept reminding myself of that). They would be able to get me initial results within 2 days, and the full results in a week or two (they have to grow the tissue to test it).
A few days later, I was back at the same facility. My husband wasn't able to take off of work, so my mother came with me. They led me back to the room, where the genetic counselor I had already spoken with was waiting, along with the doctor. They were very nice and very sympathetic. In order to do the test, they had to do another ultrasounds so they could see the placenta. Once again, I saw my son on the screen. He looked like he was waving. The doctor explained everything they were going to do, and after a painless 20 minutes, it was done. Then it was just a matter of getting blood drawn for the blood tests. The counselor gave me her cell number and told me she should have the results by Friday and that she would call me as soon as she got them.
The next few days were a blur. I was still sick as a dog with nausea. I had to take it easy because the CVS test carries a risk of miscarriage. I still went to work, but I stayed off my feet.
Friday came, and by the afternoon I still hadn't heard anything. I called the counselor's cell and she told me she would call the lab. 15 minutes later she called me back and told me there had been a delay in getting the sample to the lab, so they wouldn't have anything until the following day. She assured me they were open on Saturdays (and this would be Christmas Eve) and that she would let me know as soon as she had the results.
Christmas Eve came, and I started driving to work. I was on the Bay Bridge when she called. She asked if it was a good time (never a good sign) and I told her I was driving. She asked if I wanted to wait until I got to work to talk (NO!). I asked her to tell me whether it was good news or bad news. She confirmed it was bad news. The blood test and the CVS test both confirmed there was an extra chromosome where there shouldn't be one. I thanked her for calling me and told her I would call her when I got to work. I hung up and cried the entire ride in.
When I called her back, she just reiterated what she already told me, and that to know exactly how severe it would be would take the full results (a week or so). She also confirmed that I was carrying a boy. She also stated there was a chance of miscarriage or stillbirth.
I spent the rest of my workday trying not to fall apart. I called my husband and told him the news. He was just as devastated as I was. When I got home from work, we talked some more. I told him I wanted to end the pregnancy. I couldn't go through this. Even if this child lived to be born, I just didn't think I had what it took to take care of someone that would need so much care.
At 13 weeks and 2 days, I told my midwife that I wanted to end the pregnancy.
And that's where I am right now. Stuck in between. Still pregnant, but....not for long. No longer expecting a baby. Heartbroken.
I have no idea how to feel. I have no idea how to respond when people ask me how the pregnancy is going. I have to keep going like nothing has changed. This sucks. They said treat it like a loss, but I'm. Still. Pregnant.
I'm waiting for my follow-up with the Maternal Fetal Medicine specialist to learn the full results of the CVS. Then we'll schedule the termination.
I thought 2016 was going to be better. I was wrong.
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