Stream of consciousness
I'm not quite ready to delve into the details of LC's birth. Sorry to leave anybody hanging. Clearly it ends badly. The motivation to write this shit down comes when I am at my most anxious and out of sorts. Fortunately, recounting the details has been somewhat of an outlet for me. Seems like I have a little less of the burden to carry around with me.
It’s a shame that now all of you have a little burden in the form of your memories of my horror story. I guess we all take that on when we choose to support each other through this journey; it’s not always pretty that’s for sure. I read your stories so that I know where you are coming from. Man, we are coming from some dark and shitty places.
I’ve stopped commenting on newly-pregnant people’s blogs for fear that they will naively stumble into my chamber of deadbabyhorrors.
Many of you have said how you are impressed (that’s not quite the right word) that I have found the strength and courage to get pregnant again. Depressing as it is to say it but this is not my first post-Big Fucking Nightmare pregnancy. I got pregnant again in April 2006. That pregnancy ended very, very badly at 11 weeks. It wasn’t nearly on the epoch-disaster-scale of the BFN but it was really fucking awful and shocking and horrifying in its own way.
Yes, there is another nightmarish tale of pregnancy loss to come. I barely believe it myself sometimes. The next one REALLY got me down. The aftermath was plain ugly.
The really incredible (hopefully not incredibly stupid) thing here is that after the second disaster, I tried again. For months now I have been saying that this is it for me. God forbid this thing goes south, I am done.
On a lighter note, I saw fancy doc on Thursday and he said my cervix feels good. He checks the cervix by sticking his hand up me basically. He says that he thinks his exam is more accurate than an u/s exam.
Still I’d like to have an u/s (it’s been six or seven weeks since my cervix has been measured by u/s) so my cervical length can be measured; his exam assesses pressure on the cervix but not length. Sounds like shortening of the cervix would cause pressure and he would feel that, but still. I have an u/s on Wednesday. I like the idea of actually seeing what the hell is going on in there.
Typical that I would hear perfectly good news and still walk out of his office thinking about how I’d like to see an u/s measurement before I’ll relax a little. As if anything but a lobotomy could lead me to relax.
I also had the Fetal Fibronectin Test (fFN) done. I should’ve expected stirrups and speculum for that to be done. If I never hear, “Could you move a little further down please?” again, it’ll be too soon. Isn’t that just the fucking worst? Could you hang your naked ass and crotch a little further off the edge of the table and then spread your legs way the hell apart while I turn on my spotlight and prepare to jam a speculum up you? UGH. That’s the worst. Holy self-consciousness. To make matters worse I was in need of a trim. Zero bush-confidence happening. Hellooo, trimming makes me scratch like a flea-infested hound dog. Seriously.
So on Tuesday I’ll get the fFn (I’ve no clue why they abbreviate it that way) results. Basically fFN tests for the presence of a protein that is indicative of impending pre-term labor.
A negative result is highly accurate. If it’s negative then there is a 1% chance of delivering in the next two weeks. If it’s positive then there’s a 50% chance or less of delivering in the next two weeks. So negative is great. Positive scares the shit of you, possibly for no good reason.
Usually those results take a day but since it’s a holiday weekend, it’ll take until Tuesday. I’m not really worried about it. I’m taking it super-easy and will continue to do so despite the results.
Naturally a positive result will concern me especially since my dad is gone for 9 days. We are piecing together coverage for the week. This would be bad timing for a scare.
It’s nice to have my dad gone, especially since my mother came to town on Wednesday. They went off for a vacation. As usual I reverted to my surly sixteen-year-old self as soon as she walked in the door. I didn’t have far to regress since I seem to be locked into my sullen eighteen-year-old when my dad is around. There have got to be some of you out there who know what I mean. All good intentions go to shit when one of my parents walks in the door and my psyche seizes up and clamps down on itself. I can’t bring myself to even have a conversation with my mother. It’s quite awkward actually. Then I feel awful afterwards. Argh. More on that later.
I’ll be 24 weeks on Thursday. My tickers always put me a day ahead so maybe Wednesday.
We’re starting to call the baby Doris Foodle. Sounds crazy I’m sure. Doris Foodle is a character in RM’s favorite children’s book, The Teacher from the Black Lagoon.
I’ve often found that the best nicknames are not the ones that we choose but the ones that choose us. We’ll see if it sticks. For now it’s fun to put a name to this busy little girl living in my belly.
It’s actually time to start knitting something. For Doris Foodle. Don't freak, I would never dream of calling her that after she is born. This is strictly an in-utero nickname.
I think I’ll do a pale pink blanket with cables. Never done cables but I hear it’s easy once you get the hang of it. Question is what type of yarn? It has to be soft but wash-and-dryable. It’ll also need to be soft but not fuzzy so she doesn’t get little hairs on her tongue should she be inclined towards sucking on it. Cashmerino? Suggestions?
It’s a shame that now all of you have a little burden in the form of your memories of my horror story. I guess we all take that on when we choose to support each other through this journey; it’s not always pretty that’s for sure. I read your stories so that I know where you are coming from. Man, we are coming from some dark and shitty places.
I’ve stopped commenting on newly-pregnant people’s blogs for fear that they will naively stumble into my chamber of deadbabyhorrors.
Many of you have said how you are impressed (that’s not quite the right word) that I have found the strength and courage to get pregnant again. Depressing as it is to say it but this is not my first post-Big Fucking Nightmare pregnancy. I got pregnant again in April 2006. That pregnancy ended very, very badly at 11 weeks. It wasn’t nearly on the epoch-disaster-scale of the BFN but it was really fucking awful and shocking and horrifying in its own way.
Yes, there is another nightmarish tale of pregnancy loss to come. I barely believe it myself sometimes. The next one REALLY got me down. The aftermath was plain ugly.
The really incredible (hopefully not incredibly stupid) thing here is that after the second disaster, I tried again. For months now I have been saying that this is it for me. God forbid this thing goes south, I am done.
On a lighter note, I saw fancy doc on Thursday and he said my cervix feels good. He checks the cervix by sticking his hand up me basically. He says that he thinks his exam is more accurate than an u/s exam.
Still I’d like to have an u/s (it’s been six or seven weeks since my cervix has been measured by u/s) so my cervical length can be measured; his exam assesses pressure on the cervix but not length. Sounds like shortening of the cervix would cause pressure and he would feel that, but still. I have an u/s on Wednesday. I like the idea of actually seeing what the hell is going on in there.
Typical that I would hear perfectly good news and still walk out of his office thinking about how I’d like to see an u/s measurement before I’ll relax a little. As if anything but a lobotomy could lead me to relax.
I also had the Fetal Fibronectin Test (fFN) done. I should’ve expected stirrups and speculum for that to be done. If I never hear, “Could you move a little further down please?” again, it’ll be too soon. Isn’t that just the fucking worst? Could you hang your naked ass and crotch a little further off the edge of the table and then spread your legs way the hell apart while I turn on my spotlight and prepare to jam a speculum up you? UGH. That’s the worst. Holy self-consciousness. To make matters worse I was in need of a trim. Zero bush-confidence happening. Hellooo, trimming makes me scratch like a flea-infested hound dog. Seriously.
So on Tuesday I’ll get the fFn (I’ve no clue why they abbreviate it that way) results. Basically fFN tests for the presence of a protein that is indicative of impending pre-term labor.
A negative result is highly accurate. If it’s negative then there is a 1% chance of delivering in the next two weeks. If it’s positive then there’s a 50% chance or less of delivering in the next two weeks. So negative is great. Positive scares the shit of you, possibly for no good reason.
Usually those results take a day but since it’s a holiday weekend, it’ll take until Tuesday. I’m not really worried about it. I’m taking it super-easy and will continue to do so despite the results.
Naturally a positive result will concern me especially since my dad is gone for 9 days. We are piecing together coverage for the week. This would be bad timing for a scare.
It’s nice to have my dad gone, especially since my mother came to town on Wednesday. They went off for a vacation. As usual I reverted to my surly sixteen-year-old self as soon as she walked in the door. I didn’t have far to regress since I seem to be locked into my sullen eighteen-year-old when my dad is around. There have got to be some of you out there who know what I mean. All good intentions go to shit when one of my parents walks in the door and my psyche seizes up and clamps down on itself. I can’t bring myself to even have a conversation with my mother. It’s quite awkward actually. Then I feel awful afterwards. Argh. More on that later.
I’ll be 24 weeks on Thursday. My tickers always put me a day ahead so maybe Wednesday.
We’re starting to call the baby Doris Foodle. Sounds crazy I’m sure. Doris Foodle is a character in RM’s favorite children’s book, The Teacher from the Black Lagoon.
I’ve often found that the best nicknames are not the ones that we choose but the ones that choose us. We’ll see if it sticks. For now it’s fun to put a name to this busy little girl living in my belly.
It’s actually time to start knitting something. For Doris Foodle. Don't freak, I would never dream of calling her that after she is born. This is strictly an in-utero nickname.
I think I’ll do a pale pink blanket with cables. Never done cables but I hear it’s easy once you get the hang of it. Question is what type of yarn? It has to be soft but wash-and-dryable. It’ll also need to be soft but not fuzzy so she doesn’t get little hairs on her tongue should she be inclined towards sucking on it. Cashmerino? Suggestions?
posted by whatthef*ck at 1:30 PM
8 Comments:
no suggestions here b/c my saint of a grandmother gave up on me when i couldn't get past the single strand thing...but you could go to 2 moms it can be done blog, she's a pro!
Hey, just about 24 weeks, that is a big one. Lol on the speculum paragraph...bush-confidence...I am so going to be using that one. :)
Ok, I have to delurk to comment on this post. I howled out loud when reading your bush comment. It still makes me snicker. Having just been spread eagle with that oh so direct light pointed in the netherlands this morning... your commentary adds a whole new perspective!
You and "Doris" are in my thoughts.
Congratulations on 24 weeks! That is a huge milestone.4 more weeks until 28 and everything gets a lot better then. I am responding to a previous post...I found this forum on IC helpful when I was pregnant:
http://groups.msn.com/IncompetentCervixSupport
Also am wondering where you are getting your pre-natal care? I was at UCSF...there was a cerclage expert there, who I could imagine being pretty laid back about bed rest, but when I hear "fancy doc," I think CPMC? My perinatologist has a VERY conservative reputation, and since my previous and only other pregnancy ended in loss, she was not taking any chances. I don't think other people would have been so tough with the bed rest stuff. Good luck. I am really hopeful for you!
I do know what you mean about sullen sixteen and eighteen year old.
I want to comment as a newly pregnant person - and I guess I can only speak for myself - but don't feel like you need to tiptoe around me.
I had an experience recently that your post made me recall. I told a woman that I know through volunteer work - we don't know each other well - that I'm pregnant. I knew that she'd lost two babies just over a year ago (twin pregnancy), but not the details (it was before we met). I found myself telling her all about our infertility and that we conceived through IVF - in more detail than I've shared with some close friends. Was I trying in some way to relate to her loss, even though I would never equate having a hard time getting pregnant with having two babies die? Or letting her know that I'm not just a happy-go-lucky-fertile-pregnant woman? I don't know. And yet, my disclosure led her to tell me all about her babies. One was a vanishing twin at 10 weeks, the other was discovered to have spina bifida and trisomy 18 at 20 weeks and was carried to term. She lived for four days. I heard about those days, and how this woman bought a loveseat for the NICU so that parents spending their final hours with their babies can at least sit next to each other and hold the baby together. So unimaginably sad (for me, unimaginable; not for everyone, and not for you). And she apologized for telling me - pregnant for the first time - about all of this. But I wouldn't have opened up to her about my infertility if I weren't also open to hearing about her pain and her experiences. Knowing that terrible things happen doesn't make my pregnancy any less secure - and pretending that they don't happen doesn't make it more secure.
Are we the same person, re: interaction with emotionally stunted and selfish mother?
I check on you frequently, if for no other reason that to look at your ticker. And after that ticker turns 24 weeks, I'll be anxious to see what your next ticker says :-). Me, I'm still counting ultrasounds...for now....
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