A locked up history

Three weeks since onset, the miscarriage is complete and finally over. My second set of ultrasounds, paired with some pretty strong pelvic decongestants, showed a thin layer of endometrium with no remaining tissue or ad nexium abnormalities. I lost a lot more tissue this week, but this time through I think I was ready to lose tissue. At exactly two weeks of blood, my uterus abruptly decided it was done and I was returned to my previously interrupted cycle. My progesterone levels plummeted, corresponding with a drop in base metabolic temperature. I pulled through the worst of the depression, The husband and I are still on the same page, and I quit pasta and chocolate again. I even started working out again, though I quickly learned that I'm not as strong as I was. I took some damage in the process, and that's ok.

While I was previously cursing my "backsliding", a dear friend of mine wrote me a letter which reminded me that "Life isn't linear."  She's absolutely right. It's not fair to myself to hold a standard which is totally unuseful both to myself and to my future patients- Life is so dynamic, so full of these unexpected turns and twists. I did the best I could for myself at each step. I had no self destructive behavior, and even if it feels like I'm restarting a journey that I should be much closer to the end of, I keep reminding my head that my heart took a side trip, and the distance is longer because the circumstances are different.
I did my best.
I was the most careful momma I could be, with my prenatals and my fantastic protein-full diet and my careful exercise. I was the most graceful grieving mother I could be, with my bags of chocolate and my copious tears and my outreach for help when I needed it. Now, it's time to move on and focus on being the best doctor I can be, by using all the good I've found in this experience to develop compassion, to further my relationship with my husband, to rejoice in the support of my friends. To learn what I need, so that when we try to conceive on purpose, the timing will be better and maybe I'll have even dealt with an infant by then. This month at school is going to see 3 boys delivered, and a girl to a young friend in April.
I got my locket, as the pictures suggest. Somehow, clipping the pictures and fixing them to the inside provided so much closure.

Even though I can leave the locket closed, and not look at the experience, knowing that I can see the five weeks when I had a baby inside of me whenever I want is strangely reassuring for me. Like having proof for something that otherwise might have slipped away into the chaos of history unremarked upon. I have the memories locked up around my neck, where they provide so much comfort.

The five pictures are the pictures from after conception. On the backs of them, I've written the scant details of my metal rabbit baby's life. Conceived January eleventh. Due October fourth. Lost February 12th. Though it's hard to tell when the losing really happened- technically, the beta-HCG had dropped a week prior to that, which probably means the losing was earlier. I stopped feeling baby's energy on February ninth, but the tissue loss was the most on the twelfth. That's when I lost the gestational sack, and so my decision for a loss date is the date that the baby actually left my body. There's something nice about having picked a date, even though with my excessive obstetrical knowledge, I know it was a process and not a date. Again, it's the idea that I've made this a concrete thing for myself, that I've made the details of an event solid and impervious to the rushing of history- enclosed in a silver locket, fastened with tiny magnets,hung by sturdy chain near to my heart. A history that I can leave on the bathroom counter, or that I can show someone else.

A history all my own.
                                                   

supported

This weekend was rough for my mind- on friday, admitting I was depressed was the first step.
Then I made things happen- and you, my dear friends, helped immensely.

First, I got an email from a classmate at 1pm on friday which stated simply that she cared about me and wanted me to know that she was still available if I needed anything. Now, this lady is an incredibly strong and sassy woman who is just on the verge of giving birth to twin boys and is going through the same medical program that I am- yet she still found the time to ask me each day if I was doing my biochem homework, scanning in her own study guide and emailing it to me, inviting me over for a fringe marathon at her house. And still, checking on me every day.

Then, my mom's best friend (who rearranged her schedule in college, when I was born, so that my mom could finish her degree) dropped by with bean dip and chips and gave me a much needed hug and talked to me till the late hours.

And then my dear undergrad friend wrote me some emails and a letter or so, and started checking to make sure that I'm still doing ADLs, which I needed. And I miss her so much, it was good to hear from her anyway.

Saturday morning I had another doctor's appointment- I'm in there every week, and on the phone with them so often I have their cell numbers. Things aren't going as well as expected, so I'm taking 5 more treatments than I had been- a tincture and a homeopathic for the emotional shock, homeopathics for pelvic congestion, and a cell salt for the cramping. I had another diagnostic set of ultrasounds, traditionally and transvaginally this morning, and hopefully those results will be in tomorrow.
My primary also used his magic bodywork skills and got my back to loosen up some- after a week of class, I could barely sit up. I'm still having problems with long periods of sitting, but I started my workouts back up again today

Saturday evening, two of my bestest high school dropped by with high tea for 20 people for the 3 of us- chicken pate , salmon and dill, cucumber mint, and cream cheese horseradish finger sandwiches, angel food cake, blueberry scones, english muffins, fruit platters, vegetable platters, four boxes of tea, and more. They washed my dishes and cleaned my kitchen, and then quizzed me on biochem, and then we watched 10 things I hate about you, which is a nice classic feel better movie.

image courtesy of google

Sunday morning, I took a shower and sung my heart out. I invented some blues songs that I cried my way through, and then my husband got home and we went to my parents house and played board games for a few hours. My dad, that crazy generous man, worked seven days in a row so that he could buy me the doctor bag I've had on my wishlist and been saving up for for months. It'll be here on the 24th, he said yesterday. So then I'll have a place to put my stethoscope and my sphygmomanometer, and my ophthalmoscope, and my otoscope and throat illuminator and pen light and the other cool doctor stuff I got during equipment handout last tuesday.

image courtesy of amazon

The husband and I bonded over our loss on the car ride home- talking to his washington boys helped immensely to bring us to the same emotional page, and I'm so glad he has a man-group that he can talk about his feelings with, because it helped us as a couple out a ton.

I'm using the money I was going to put towards my doctor bag to buy a silver locket featuring a rabbit, and then two cherry trees. In the locket, I'm going to put the belly photos with the conception date and all of the miscarriage details.

image courtesy of cosmicfirefly on etsy

The trees we're going to plant at my parents house- and then my little metal rabbit baby will have a little ceremony and a physical reminder to give me some closure about the whole situation. My hubby is thinking he's going to get a tattoo of our our signs (earth dragon and fire rabbit) with what would have been the baby's sign (which is the metal rabbit, in case you missed the chinese new year this year and hadn't picked it up from the above sentances.)

I'm still incredibly sad, but no longer oppressed by my sadness to the point where I wasn't leaving the house or doing my chores. Thank you all- I love you so much. I appreciate all of you ( I know I didn't write all of the kindnesses that have been done these last two weeks- and if I had, this post would be one hundred pages long. You are all so lovely, and I treasure every hug, every card, every letter, every wall post, every email, every set of notes, every recording, and every willing ear.) I'm overwhelmed by your support, and I cherish it.

depression

Here I am. It's a week, just past the hour, exactly, and I'm all alone. My house is filthy. There's ice cream containers on the counter. I've just come to the point, watching my third season of Buffy: The Vampire Slayer and having my water goblet of wine, where I've realized that I'm very depressed, and that I've been using any distraction I can to avoid working through all of these experiences.

It was biochemistry that was my final clue- my midterm that I worked so hard to move to monday morning at 10, so that I could study. I was studying, actually, on thursday morning. I got four questions in on the study guide before I went home, tucked myself under a big blanket on the couch, and turned on the television. This morning I swore I was going to get up and study, but since both teachers for today's classes had told me I should rest, I tucked myself into the couch and turned on the television. I still haven't gotten an inch further. I did turn off the television in the middle of a season. To my surprise, in the dark with no distractions, I burst into tears.

All I could think about was how I've reverted exactly to how I was in October- I've gained back all the weight, I'm just eating easy food and sugar, I'm dizzy, I'm nauseous, I'm exhausted, I have the worst headache of my life, I'm behind in all of my classes- and this time, I feel like a giant failure on top of it. I failed to be healthy. I failed my second chance at pregnancy. I'm afraid I'm failing my classes. I feel like I'm failing my husband, my family, my friends. I don't know what to talk about, or what to ask for.

I feel like I'm slipping away.  It sounds so stupid, so childish, but there for five weeks, I felt so special and beautiful. Now I'm neither. I've tried to talk to the school counselor, but our schedules haven't matched up. Even my primary has been too busy to call, though he said he would. The main doctor said she'd call today too, but she didn't. And the husband is off with the guys, on an excursion that they planned weeks and weeks ago when things were good. I don't want to be by myself, but I have another doctor's appointment in the morning, and it's too far to commute in from my folks' place. All the friends I would have been comfortable asking to come stay with me are in other states.

I guess I just need someone to kick my ass into line and motivate me and be with me, but since there's no one but me, I'll have to work up to it. I've just been too afraid to start up again. When my roommate died in '08, I worked 12 hour days for 16 days straight. I worked through the tears and the sadness until I was just empty inside, and then it all came back in the first bodywork class I took, and I had to deal with it again. I don't want to do that this time, but I don't know how to get functional again without doing that. and did I mention biochemistry? I have to pass this test, because I failed the first one. I don't have time to sit around and be sad.

But I am. And that's just what I've been doing...

miscarriage

It's a strange and horrible thing for your child to die inside of you- to be aware of the sickening loss of sensation followed by the pain building and intensifying. To watch the red, red blood fall away while the fire burns away at your spine.
It's had to see the blood, knowing that somewhere in those masses of tissue, there's a clump of cells that used to have a soul so large that I could feel it two feet away from my body.
My uterus is locked in spasm. My lumbar vertebrae and sacrum are compressing, caught on cold fire and aghast at the horror in front of them. The muscles of my abdomen twitch and writhe. The ligaments expanding into my inguinal canal are shuddering as my heart beats too fast and my throat closes up and tears fill my eyes.
Goodbye, my little love.

Turn for the worse

I could barely sit still in clinical correlates, listening half heartedly to naturopathic treatments for dysentery and traveler's diarhea. My back started burning, the sacroiliac joint frozen and irritated. Shooting pains radiated down my inguinal canal, following the path of the uterine round ligament. I felt the spasms beginning. I slipped out of class and went to the bathroom, where I found more spotting beginning, red again, not brown. 

Nothing is ok.

But it will be, eventually. I'm very sad right  now. 

waiting on the answers

Well, 6 needle holes and 3 visits later, I still don't have any results. I think this is probably a good thing, because if my numbers were going the wrong way or something looked dangerous, they would have called me by now. I put a call into my Primary's answering machine this evening, asking if he could find the numbers and get back to me, even though I'll see him on Saturday.
He's so good about calling me back that hopefully by tomorrow, I'll know something.

I also haven't had a reoccurence of the severity of the symptoms, so that's reassuring. On top of that, the nausea is getting worse, like it's supposed to. I'm moody as hell, like I'm supposed to be (sorry, everyone.) I hate the smell of unwashed people with a fiery passion. I'm not fitting into my clothes as easily. I had to retire a shirt this week because it no longer fit over my chest, which is expanding at a ludicrous rate still.

And I'm having lovely, lovely dreams.
A couple nights ago, I dreamed that I was holding a lion cub, and leaned against a glass door. Outside of the glass door, pressed to it just like I was on the inside, was a brown bear cub. Holding the cub, though the only thing visible were arms, was also me. Wrapped around me and the cub was the mama brown bear. A giant wolverine kept watch over all of us, and I felt so safe and cozy. I could feel the fur on my cheek, and the warmth of the pile. From the inside of the glass, I could feel the heat of the sun, and the warmth of my lion.

Later, inspired by a dream interpretation that I didn't agree with, I went and looked everything of that little segment up. Here's my interpretation:

The wolverine watching signifies vigilance and the will to survive. The mother and cub symbolizes motherhood and new life, and the bears themselves represent strength. The glass door represents the transition, and the clarity of the situation. The fact that I'm on both sides of the glass door means that I'm still in the process of transition, and that I'm not fully there because I saw myself more clearly on the inside of the glass. It also suggests heightened awareness and concern. In both places, I was settled down and resting- which suggests that's what I need to do. Holding the lion is holding protectiveness, and the need to be part of a pride, and to relax.

I think this is the most comforting thing that has happened this week. At least my subconscious isn't worried- it just wants me to take more naps. Somewhere in there, I know that I'm strong and that the baby and I both have an incredible will to survive, as we go through this transition. It might be worrisome, and I need to be protective of myself and to rest.
Oh, lovely naps and early bedtimes. So hard with school, and so irresistible. I love naps.

option number 4, please.

I had a couple more episodes of spotting yesterday morning, and the cramps started getting worse. I was on 3rd and Jefferson, on my way to school, when I finally decided that if I wasn't in the 30% of women for whom this is normal, I should be at a hospital. So I turned on Clay and went back to highway 26 and drove the twenty minutes to my house and told my husband that I wanted to go to the hospital.

He works there, so he had no trouble driving me (the fastest way) to the parking garage, and then we went in to the emergency room.

I was triaged with low back pain, cramping, and light spotting, but they didn't have any open tables so they sent me to the waiting room. It wasn't a horribly long wait before I was back in the pediatric emergency ward (I guess that's where the first bed opened up.) and the nurse was taking blood pressure and asking me questions and then the doctor came in and asked me the same questions. Then I had to take a pee- pregnancy test to prove that I really am pregnant, because the two tests I took last week and the word of my ND wasn't good enough. After that came back positive (Dr. in the hall talking to the nurse, "Oh, she Is pregnant. Alright.") then I got the whole shebang of all the tests that could possibly be wrong with me. Pelvic exam, two normal ultrasounds, one transvaginal ultrasound, blood draws, fluid cultures.
At the end, the doctor presented 4 options and discharge instructions.

The first option he presented is that it's possible that I had a cyst rupture, because there is a little fluid in my pelvis, and most of it seems to be blood. If this is true, the pregnancy is probably fine but I'll be uncomfortable until I heal up.

The second option he presented was that there is a possibility that even though the early ultrasounds didn't show an abnormalities, there could be an ectopic pregnancy.

The third option he presented was that there is a possibility of an early miscarriage.

The fourth is that I'm totally normal.

So, since it's too early to tell which of those four options it really is, I'm under instruction to take it easy for a bit, and on saturday I get another beta-hCG drawn, and on monday I get another beta-hCG drawn. The level they noted at the hospital yesterday is 965mIU/ml, and in a normal pregnancy it doubles on a fairly regular basis. Once that level is over 2000mIU/ml, an ultrasound should be able to find baby and rule out options 2 & 3. If the beta-hCG falls on saturday, then it's probably option 3 and I need to be really careful to not bleed out.

965mIU/ml is just about 100mIU/ml low for 6 weeks, which makes sense because my cycle is a bit longer than normal, and being in the 5 week range allows for the nearly three weeks (instead of two) before ovulation. 

Needless to say, I'm rather hoping for options 1 &4 at this point. 4 would be best. I would like 4.

why social networking is not for announcing pregnancies.

There's a really big reason for why I was upset that the baby news was leaked to facebook before I was good and ready to really tell anyone.
two years ago, I miscarried. I miscarried so early that it didn't show up on hCG tests and I was told (after I left the emergency room where I'd gotten plugged into some fluids) that I should just stop being so nervous and go home to rest. The next day, at 10 in the morning, I had the worst sensation of loss followed shortly thereafter by the most blood I'd ever seen in my life and the worst cramping I've ever felt in my life. But at least then, I only had to tell my husband and my mom about that trauma.

This time the hCG tests came back positive, but I'm still really worried. And we're not out of the woods yet- 1 in every 5 women miscarries. Last night I had a tiny bit of bleeding- and I know that can be totally normal- but I called my primary and I was shaking so badly that my husband stayed home from work to make sure I was ok. I had just gotten to the point where I was making up lullabies and was really comfortable with the idea of the baby being real- and now I'm back to just being scared. and overwhelmed. I don't even want to think of having to tell everyone if something terrible happens. On facebook, no less...I have no idea who knows and who doesn't.
I'm just so tired and sad right now, and I still feel pregnant, I'm just worried about side symptoms. I can't imagine dealing with a miscarriage this time, this public.

House Bill What??

"I won't say it but it rhymes with shmashmortion."

-Jonah, Knocked Up

There's a lot of furor up in the air about the republican house bill number 3, section 309. In this section, the definition of rape becomes Only defined as forcible rape. This would exclude other forms of non-consent, such as statutory rape, mental incompetence to consent, and drugged rape. Now, the title of the bill is "No Taxpayer Funding For Abortion Act" which sounds enticing.
I'm personally not stoked about the amount of my money that goes towards therapeutic abortions. I love the tiny life growing inside of me, and to me it is already my child. I knew it was there before it had even implanted in my uterus. I feel its energy as distinct and different from my own. I know it is alive, and that it is a tiny person (even if it looks like a sea monkey).
I'm in no way a personal supporter of abortion. I don't feel like it's my right to take away something else's life. But this life taking issue is also why I (personally) am not a hunter, or a veterinarian. I still eat meat. I still talk to veterinarians who preform what I consider to be unnecessary euthanasia. I even usually leave the bugs in my house alive, unless they seem to be bent on hanging out on my person or bed. Life is sacred to me.
The "No Taxpayer Funding For Abortion Act" is playing on this life loving emotion while doing something entirely different. Currently, the US government money (aka taxpayer dollars) is only used in the case of rape, incest, and danger to mother's health. This is the definition of therapeutic abortion- killing the child to preserve the mother (psychologically or physically). What this bill proposes is that the only rape that qualifies as serious enough to receive funding is forcible rape. Incest will only be covered to age 18. Danger to mothers would be left alone. Also, this bill would prevent tax-free health savings accounts (personal money) from being used to fund the abortion procedure.
This basically means that if a 20 year old mentally challenged girl was taken advantage of by a family member, not only would federally funded health care not pay for the abortion, neither would the girl's parents be able to use their own savings to pay for the abortion. It's also possible, using this new legal loophole, that the sexual predator would not be convicted because the girl was over 18 and no force was used.
Think of the number of sexual predators that would no longer be convict-able. Think of the ruined lives resulting from that alone, even if no pregnancy resulted from the rape. Think of the step backwards civil rights would take. Think of the broken hearts, that their rape wasn't "severe enough" that the courts would justify it.
Defeating this bill does nothing to the current rate of abortion. Everything stays as it is- therapeutic only- and rape is not legally redefined. The choice would remain, to be able to say no to abortion.

This is the site where you can add your voice to the others who don't see rape as a negotiable term: don't redefine rape

And in closing, here is a comment on another person's shared (same) link:

"They'd just argue they aren't taking the choice away, though. They'd say they just don't want to pay for it.But with all the restrictions already in place, women are still driven to people like the butcher in Philadelphia. And that was a man who operated for decades in a country where abortion is nominally legal. His clients were teenagers who couldn't ask their parents, immigrants, and women who couldn't get the money together to pay out of pocket until they were late in their pregnancies.This is where hurdles and restrictions lead us, but choking off access is the only thing these assholes can do as long as Roe stands.

That they're so willing to throw rape victims under the bus to do it just proves how much this is about hating women and the under privileged. Because let's not forget: even if Roe were overturned tomorrow, wealthy women would still have access to safe abortions. They did before, they will after."

-N.Johnson

so think about it. And think about the implications of that one tiny sentence, wrapped in appealing pro-life terminology.

continuation of baby talk, 24/7

At this rate, I'm not going to be able to see my feet because of my gargantuan chest-torpedos, not because of an expanding uterus.
I'm not kidding.

I was already an imaginary size in non-custom-fit bras, and I've graduated to an even more ridiculously imaginary size this week. I'm only 6 weeks pregnant, and breastfeeding is months in the future. If the hormones keep stimulating growth, I'm going to have to acquire a wheelbarrow. and a back brace.

In other news, the nausea seems to have rolled mostly under control, if I keep some tea and a snack handy. I have some somatic reeducation points (that aren't polite to work with in public) and some polite acupressure points that are working really well for me. They even seemed to have reigned in my sense of smell- not to say that it isn't still a super power. But now, when I come home and my wonderful husband has been working out for an hour, while I can't give him a hug- I can stand in the same room.

The napping is lovely (though pathological in its frequency). And totally inappropriate for the beginning of midterms season that it is. This week is only organ systems and palpation, and next week is only anatomy and anatomy lab, but the week after that is going to be wicked brutal. Ethics final, micro midterm, organ systems test, biochem test, all one after the other in a non stop cascade of knowledge download to scantron. 
After this time of trouble and tribulation, two of my classes will end. Which is a little sad, because on the whole, I'd rather be in those two classes and pick two Other classes to end. The schedule change will give me back monday mornings and thursday afternoons,which will be helpful for the studying for the rest of the quarter. And for making appointments in. And for being able to call anyone during their business hours.

And really...business hours? Those are awful for anyone else who also has business hours. When I start my clinic, I'm going to have to figure out how to stay open late once in a while, or work a weekend a month or something, just so average people can come in without missing work or school