"The cat's out of the bag..."

... at least now it will be.  Spencer and I were expecting our 5TH child. Yes 5TH! Call us cRaZy if you choose to; we were excited and it just seemed like practical timing to welcome a new addition to our family.  This past Wednesday, May 19TH, I went into to see my doctor for a checkup and ultrasound; I was just one day shy of being 10 weeks; only 6 weeks and one day away from possibly finding out the sex of the baby! The doctor did the ultrasound and spent what felt like an eternity examining the fetus and placenta.  Without him having to say a word though, I knew what he was about to tell me.  The baby had no heartbeat; I had lost it.  It stopped growing shortly before my 7TH week.  However the placenta was still alive and that would explain why I hadn't yet begun to miscarry on my own.

Bummer!  I got a little choked up as the doctor said his apologies.  I avoided making any eye contact with the nurses in the room who were just moments before the ultrasound telling me "congratulations".  I wasn't overwhelmingly emotional though... disappointed, yes.  This was a HUGE setback for two reasons.  1: I was looking forward to having a Christmas baby; the timing of the delivery seemed SO perfect! (my due date was December 16TH).  2:  Prior to my ultrasound, we had only told a select few family and friends that I was pregnant.  We really intended to keep my pregnancy a secret until we at least knew the sex of the baby.  In all honesty, I didn't care whether the baby was a boy or a girl, I just thought it would more fun to surprise our friends and family later on; besides, these next 6 weeks my mind will be easily distracted with things like swimming lessons for the boys, and packing and unpacking during our move.  I was slightly disappointed because I was already looking forward to spending the summer by the pool in my maternity swimsuit; I would have been in my second trimester as summer approaches. I still have my baby gut from my last pregnancy with Bentley  (mind you that was 9 months ago!) and somehow I imagined that by being pregnant again people would be far less likely to judge my figure in a bathing suit or anything tight fitting for that matter.

The other thing that bothers me, is how naive I was.  I knew what the odds were of experiencing a miscarriage; 1 in 5; but for some reason I was convinced I'd already paid my dues.  I experienced one miscarriage before successfully getting pregnant with our eldest, Noah (just for the record: we even think there is a chance that I had 2 miscarriages before I became pregnant with Noah, but we aren't positive because we never went to the doctor for the 2ND miscarriage to confirm that yes indeed I had been pregnant).  Subsequently I went on to deliver 4 beautiful boys in just less than 4 years.  I felt certain that my body had figured out the whole pregnancy thing and I wouldn't be a candidate for any sort of miscarriage again.  Like I said before, I felt like I had paid my dues.  I was wrong of course.  Embarrassingly and disappointingly so.  Life is precious; I'd overlooked the fact that it can be taken at any moment.

My doctor discussed with me what I could expect to happen, since I wasn't already beginning to miscarry on my own.  He explained that since the placenta was still alive it could be WEEKS before the miscarriage and discomfort begins and it could last for one to two weeks.  He also told me there was a chance my body wouldn't miscarry the baby on its own; this news freaked me out a little because my mind flashed back to a show I watched about a year ago on TLC about a women in her 70's who lived in some 3RD world country, who all her life suffered from bloating and stomach pain, only to discover one day in a doctors office for a check up that some 50 years previously she was at one time pregnant and lost her baby; instead of miscarrying her baby, the baby remained in her womb and it became fossilized!  I don't want to be featured on TLC 50 years from now with a baby in my womb that is fossilized!!!

My doctor suggested, based on my particular situation, doing a surgery to remove the fetus and placenta; he explained that it was a quick operation and relatively safe and far less painful than going through an actual miscarriage.  It sounded ideal so I booked the operation.  By doing the operation, it would allow me to get on with my life, focus on what needs to get done over these next few weeks (packing!) without the the worry and pain and most importantly be there for my children (since Wednesday's appointment practically all of their meals have been "take out"..i.e. cheese burgers and fries; it makes me want to puke and yet at the same time, when I start feeling better, stuff them full of fresh veggies and fruit!)

Upon leaving the doctor's office that day, I started to make some phone calls.  First I called Spencer and told him the news. He was disappointed of course and concerned about how I was feeling.  He's not a mushy husband, but I LOVE that he's always sensitive to my needs and feelings. Then I called my mother in law, followed by my father in law, sister in laws and my sister Tricia (besides Spencer, she was originally the ONLY one I intended to even let know that I was pregnant).  I called my mother (whom I had just shared the news about me expecting only 2 weeks earlier on Mother's Day); and then I texted my good friend Lacy who I don't get too see too often because she lives in Texas but I babbled weeks earlier in a discussion with her when she came to visit that I was expecting yet again, another baby.  Back in December I signed up to run in a small triathlon that is to take place today (May 22ND); my sister Tricia was going to do it with me and my good friend Heidi was also doing it.  I fully intended to run the race; but never trained for it like I would have like to.  Up until about a month ago I still wasn't sure whether or not if I was going to participate in it.  My sister Tricia already told me she wasn't going to do it since she's close to being in her 3RD trimester and I told my friend Heidi I highly doubted I was going to do it.  When I told her, I already knew I was pregnant, but NEVER knew or even imagined in the slightest that I'd miscarry, so when I found out on Wednesday that I had in fact lost the baby and that I'd be in surgery on Friday, the day before the race, I felt a little more relief about my decision NOT to race in the triathlon.  At last, I had a REAL reason, aside from the fact that I just didn't prepare myself for the race, to justify WHY I wouldn't be racing.  I texted Heidi on Wednesday and told her the news.  I also had to text a couple of mothers of Noah's friends he has play dates with and plays Itty Bitty Ball with.  I missed Itty Bitty Ball on Monday (just because it was one of THOSE mornings where time was NOT on my side) and then again on Wednesday (I was at my doctor appointment), and knew I wouldn't be there again on Friday due to surgery.  The mothers were beginning to wonder and ask my sister Tricia who was also at Itty Bitty Ball lessons with her son Daniel and Noah WHERE I was and IF I was okay?...  We were also supposed to have Noah's friends over last night (Friday night) for a movie night, but obviously I had to cancel those plans.  I feared I'd sound like a flake, yet again, if I just called or wrote the moms at the last minute telling them I had to cancel, particularly because I already knew a few of them were wondering if I was okay... SO, I told those moms in a text that we had been expecting but I lost the baby.  Thankfully, we didn't tell ALL of our FRIENDS (especially those on FACEBOOK) and FAMILY members already that I was pregnant; sharing the news would have been MUCH MUCH MUCH MORE difficult than it already was.  It wasn't really difficult per say delivering the news, because I was already at peace with the outcome, but I realized that every person perceives our news differently.  A lot of the people we had to tell had had their own personal experiences with a miscarriage of their own; some of those people struggled emotionally with their own loss... on the other hand, some of the women dealt with their loss much like I had and understood I wasn't fishing for sympathy, nor did or do I want sympathy. I'm okay with the outcome. I never realized until Wednesday how the topic could provoke so many indifferent feelings in people, particularly women.  I have a whole new respect for every woman who has had to endure it because of course, it means coping with the loss of life.  Everybody reacts and copes differently.

There were a couple of times on Thursday where in I started to get nervous and have my doubts about the surgery.  I started to panic once and imagine WHAT IF, just what if the baby wasn't actually dead???  This fear came over me for at least a good hour, but I finally reasoned with my fear and reminded myself, I saw with my own two eyes on that ultrasound just what the doctor had seen, NO HEARTBEAT.  I also worried that what I was about to have done to remove the fetus and placenta was almost similar or comparable to having an abortion; inhumane.  I STRONGLY oppose abortion, and while I've never had one so I don't know EXACTLY what the procedure is like, I imagine it's somewhat similar.  I worried that I'd struggle emotionally after the surgery; maybe perhaps I shouldn't be in such a hurry to get on with life, but let nature take it's course... I toiled with my decision for some time but soon enough felt at peace with it.  Like the doctor had said, there was a good chance my body wasn't even going to miscarry the baby on it's own as it should since the baby had died 3 weeks earlier but still I wasn't showing any sign of a miscarriage.  I have so much to look forward to in the upcoming weeks; the decision I was making was the one BEST for me.

My surgery happened yesterday (Friday May 21ST). Spencer dropped me off just before 6:30 a.m. (he had to teach at school and couldn't miss a day or take time off since his students grades are due and the school year ends next week).  Our boys had all spent the night elsewhere; Noah and Cohen spent Thursday night and Friday night with my sweet sister Tricia (who she herself is pregnant with her 9TH child!) and Ian and Bentley stayed overnight and during the day at my dear in laws house.  I'd received my rhogam shot the day before (my blood type in negative) so that left very little blood work for the nurse to do in preparation for the surgery when I arrived.  I do fine getting needles and I.V.'s shoved up my arm and on my wrists and hands, but there's something about getting my iron level checked with the finger prick that REALLY makes me anxious! The nurse tried 5 times to prick my finger, each time without any success; I was a HUGE ball of NERVES and probably held my breath for at least 3 minutes in anticipation of the poke by the time she finally got it right on the 6TH attempt.  The nurse and the anesthesiologist also had quite a bit of trouble finding a good vein to put my I.V. into.  They spent at least half an hour slapping my arms, hand and wrists, shoving needles into different veins.  By their 5TH try they found one that worked.  I wasn't nervous about the actual operation itself; more so just troubled by the idea of getting anesthesia and getting completely knocked out.  I'd never experienced it before and the idea of being out of it for at least 40 minutes with out any memory of what happened sort of troubled me.  Spencer and my sister Tricia have both had anesthesia before; I quizzed them the day before about what they remembered about it. Their answer to me... NOTHING. Seriously, NOTHING???  That baffled me!  I'm such a light sleeper, and when I'm not listening to the things going on around me, I'm dreaming, but NEVER do I fall asleep and NOT  remember SOMETHING about that period of time I was resting.  I quizzed my nurse and the doctor and the anesthesiologist about other patients they've seen who have been knocked out for surgeries and whether those patients can remember anything about during the time they were "out"; do people dream, do they hallucinate, wake up in the middle of the operation, have nightmares or even outer body experiences... I don't know! I was curious! I was just hoping they could tell me SOMETHING other than NOTHING! The nurse, the doctor and the anesthesiologist all said the same thing and that was that I probably wouldn't remember a thing.  My mind was still fixated on our discussion when the anesthesiologist told me he was giving me some concoction in my I.V. to help relax me.  He explained that afterwards he and the nurse would help me walk down to the operating room and have me hop up onto the operating table where afterwards he would give me the actual medicine to "knock me out"... well, that stuff he gave me to relax must had been some good stuff because after just a minute or two of getting it, I was OUT!  I can't even recall HOW I got into the operating room. I doubt I walked like they told me I was going to do.  I very VAGUELY remember them asking me to help them get myself up and onto the operating table, and the very next memory I have is that of a couple of nurses standing above me waving something in my face telling me to "wake up".  Vaguely, I remember shaking my head violently back and forth in my sleep, in the same manner I would gesture to someone "NO!"; I think I was perturbed that they were trying to get me to wake up and wouldn't leave me alone to sleep... that was the BEST sleep I remember EVER getting, even if it was only for just over an hour!  Finally I came to and the nurses told me it took them a LONG time to wake me up.  I apologized to them and there after explained how I have 4 boys, 4 years and younger and I NEVER get a good nights of rest anymore. They all laughed of course.  I asked them what that concoction was called that they gave me to relax and they told me it was something comparable to Valium; it was some G.O.O.D. stuff and now I understand why it's something so many people use and abuse (i.e. celebrities). I felt a little groggy for a couple of minutes, but other than that I felt completely fine.  No nauseousness, no pain, no cramping.  I was thirsty and ready to eat.  The nurses had me stick around for about half an hour before letting me go home with my mother in law as my escort.  I had my first ride EVER out to the car in a wheel chair.  I insisted I could walk, but hospital rules said I had to be wheeled out.  It was actually really fun, but at the same time I felt bad that it was a feeble old nurse who probably had to be in her 70's wheeling me out; she probably should have been the one in the wheel chair, not me!

My mother in law took me back to my place, by which time I was running on adrenaline! I felt great and couldn't figure out how in the world to get myself to settle down and rest. Those were the doctors orders: drink a lot, get lots of sleep, don't lift heavy objects or kids and take it easy for the next couple of days.  I'm so used to constantly being on the go, chasing after my boys, running errands or fidgeting with something around the house.  My sister in law Laura arrived shortly after wards to come and stay with me while my mother in law went back to work.  I showed Laura to our food in the fridge and pantry, if by chance she happened to get hungry and gave her the remote control to the television, then I grabbed a bag of Baked Lays and some water, my bag of meds (in case I needed them) and headed up stairs to my bed.  I still had a difficult time winding down, so I vegged and watched some t.v. for a while.  Man, day time television SUCKS! Just a bunch of junk on t.v.  I caught up on my OPRAH episodes I had recorded... Lisa Ling and Laura Ling shared their amazing story about Laura's capture and struggle for freedom in North Korea (AMAZING STORY); Will Smith and his wife and family talked with Oprah (blah.) Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz discussed their personal lives, family and their upcoming movie (again. blah.) and then I watched the interview with the cast from Twilight regarding their new movie Eclipse that is coming out in June (I actually got hooked on this interview... I'm not a "TWIHARD" and I just don't understand mothers or women in general who go CrAZy for the books or the movies; in fact I bought the last book of the series two years ago the day it came out and I can't seem to convince myself to finish reading it after having read half of it; I just got bored with it... BUT I will say, after watching the OPRAH interview, I am slightly, just a tad bit looking forward to watching the new movie and perhaps during all of my downtime this weekend I'll muster up the energy to finish reading the last book). I watched a little Food Network and found myself DROOLING over the pasta that Giada was preparing; only to later be completely crushed by the end of the show once I realized I WILL NEVER have an opportunity to ever taste it or make it for myself because I'm allergic to pasta and flour and it would KILL ME! I found a movie on LIFETIME with Susan Sarandon that captured my interest for a while but was utterly disappointed in the ending when I was left baffled and confused with the entire story line.  I HATE it when I watch something that has a LAME ending and doesn't make any sense at all!!! FINALLY, I was tired enough to fall asleep for some time.  When I woke up an hour and a half later to heat flashes I was also STARVING (is that normal after surgery???) so I finished off the bag of Lays.  Spencer came home around 4:30 with a salad and a shake (I scarfed down the shake with out sparing a moment for remorse until I'd after eaten it all gone.. I reasoned with myself though and told myself that for a day or two, maybe even three, it's perfectly okay to enjoy stuff like a bag of chips and ice cream as "comfort food"... I deserve some comfort, even if it's greasy, no good food giving me that comfort).  I didn't really need any of my pain meds that my doctor gave me.  He prescribed me Oxycontin, Zofran, Ibuprofen and some other pain med but I was feeling pretty good aside from a slightly sore back so I just took an over the counter Motrin.  My sister in law had left by this time, and Spencer stayed home with me for the rest of the evening.  Trish decided she'd keep Cohen and Noah overnight again so I could rest and my mother in law didn't drop off Bentley and Ian till their bedtime.  I had already been feeling a little STIR CRAZY cooped up in my bedroom that smelled like DEATH because of me with ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do but watch television; it was fun to finally at last see the boys and talk to Ian about his day with Grandpa for just a few minutes before their bedtime.

So far, I'm still feeling GREAT and haven't experienced really any discomfort at all! More importantly I still feel very good about having made the decision to have the surgery.  There have been instances, where in which I'll catch myself still disappointed that I'm no longer pregnant... like I said before it is and will be a set back. Honestly though, I can't wait to get on with life in another day or two; there sure is A LOT I have to tackle in this next month and over the summer!

I hope I didn't come across as sounding heartless when I was depicting how I felt when I received news from the doctor that I lost the baby...  like I said, it felt like a HUGE setback because I was looking forward to having another new addition to our family be delivered in December, but I know that I'm still young (just 29) and relatively healthy for the most part, I'm "ahead of my game" and I've delivered 4 other healthy children; I've been extremely fortunate.  I KNOW that our family isn't yet complete and that I'll have at least one other opportunity to have another baby; perhaps maybe by next Spring or early Summer??? Obviously I know that it takes two to tango and make that happen so of course nothing won't happen till the hubs is in agreement. The doctor did reassure me and tell me that A LOT of women get pregnant right away after experiencing a miscarriage.... hmm... I hate the idea of being pregnant for practically one whole year ( do the math, I was just pregnant for almost 3 months and if I get pregnant again that's an additional 9 months... 3+9=12), but what ev., elephants are pregnant for 18 MONTHS! Now that's TORTURE!  But don't jump to any conclusions just yet, PLEASE.  I'm not pregnant. I'm just fat.  That bulge around my mid section is just baby fat, from my last two pregnancies. I haven't had the time, nor the desire to hit the gym and work it off, but maybe I will now since summer is quickly approaching and we're buying a house with our $$$money$$$ NOT lipo. Don't expect any pregnancy announcement from us for a while; like with this last pregnancy, I wouldn't want to share the news with anyone till we know WHAT we are having. Also keep in mind, a bun in the oven does take a while to cook.  So, for now, just consider me fat. Thanks.

I did want to reiterate, how with this recent experience, I am reminded just how PRECIOUS life really is.  It can be taken at any time.  I have my theories as to why this last baby stopped growing inside me... the doctor told me that there's a good chance that something was wrong with it's chromosomes and that could be why it stopped growing. On the other hand, I believe that it was one of my allergic reactions (I had two REALLY BAD/SCARY/LIFE THREATENING reactions to flour in the past month); one of those allergic reactions happened right about the same time that the baby stopped growing.  The reaction was bad enough, I SHOULD have gone to the emergency room, but instead I took some medication and waited it out at home.  It doesn't matter whether or not if I had gone to the E.R. though, if it was in fact the life threatening reaction my body was having to the flour I accidentally consumed the doctors would not have been able to save my fetus.  I've read a few articles with studies done on women, whom like myself,  have Celiacs or some sort of an intolerance/allergy to flour/gluten, where in these studies they've found that these women tend to have a greater risk of miscarrying or experiencing difficult, high risk pregnancies, or delivering children with complications at birth.  Certainly I've experienced my fair share of difficult pregnancies (i.e. Noah's pregnancy! That was miserable being sick for all 9 months with a permanent I.V. pick line in for 7 months) and my three oldest children were ALL born with complications at birth (two of them, Noah & Cohen, spent their first week of life in the NICU). Medically, it can't be determined that it's the mother's body's reaction to the gluten that complicates the pregnancy, but it's a suggestive theory; one that I personally believe to truly happen, particularly since I know my own body better than anyone else.  But like I said before, regardless of what may have caused my miscarriage, LIFE IS PRECIOUS and it can be taken at anytime. It's Heavenly Father's decision and for whatever reason, it wasn't the time for this child to come to our family just yet.  As for now, I'm just trying to keep in mind just how truly blessed I ALREADY am with a wonderful family, a LOVING, SUPPORTIVE HUSBAND, and FOUR slightly unruly, but BEAUTIFUL and TRULY PERFECT LITTLE BOYS!