Friday, April 24, 2015

US #2


Ok, so I had my first unscheduled emergency ultrasound yesterday.  Sigh.  I'm being haunted by symptoms of pregnancies past - spotting, cramping, pain.  The nurse has reassured me that these are all extremely common with IVF because of all the medications.  But for me, it brings me back to my previous pregnancies, to the trauma and terror I associate with those.  I may be "one of those women" but I don't have a healthy or normal pregnancy to compare this to.

All that to say, Baby Savant looked great.  Heart beat was strong, you could start to make out more than just blob on the ultrasound.  And my sweet doc is bringing me in one more time before releasing me to my OB and MFM specialist.

Otherwise, nausea is being somewhat controlled by my new meds.  But I've quit praying that I would be healed of this horrific nausea because I just cannot handle not having it.  Weird?  Absolutely.  But I had a 24 hour period with essentially no nausea (which corresponded with my new pain symptoms) after over 48 hour of unrelenting, can't get out of bed nausea.  I freaked.  That scared me just as much as the cramping pain I was having.  I didn't realize until then how much comfort the nausea brought.  Though I'd rather have LESS nausea, NO nausea was not good for my heart.  And revealed all the more how much I doubt.  I don't trust that God will answer my prayers, I'm surprised when He does.  And I still don't trust God with my child, at least not yet.  I pray I will get there, but I just feel let down in the past.  Which is ridiculous as I watch my 2 little miracles shovel pasta and peas in their mouths with their hands, passing their water cup back and forth.  It's a disgusting yet beautiful process to watch them eat.  God did that.  Doctors didn't, doctors didn't think they would make it,  Yet here they are, and in-my-face, everyday reminder of God's goodness.

1st US


Woo hoo!!  These are the only words I can think of to describe the relief that there is only 1 baby growing in my belly.  We've always known the risk of identical twins is much higher in IVF than in the regular population and with as sick as I've been, that was definitely a fear.  Praise the Lord there is one baby with a nice, strong heart beat. blood clot!  YES!  That's right, for the first time ever I've had a 1st trimester ultrasound without a scary clot.  Reagan's disappeared quickly, the boys' haunted me throughout the pregnancy, and this little guy has nothing.  Such a relief, a HUGE blessing and answer to prayer.  We are so excited.

So, what does that mean?  It means, right now, I have to wait 2 full weeks before another ultrasound.  Really?  TWO weeks?  I've never waited that long.  And yet, I am filled with comfort in knowing, beyond doubt, that I am in fact very pregnant.  The bulging belly, heartburn, and fatigue are nice gentle reminders.  The overwhelming and horrific nausea is the in-my-face reminder.  I have never felt so horrible in my life.  And yet, I know that God is using that to reassure my fleeting heart and doubting mind that this child is growing strong.'s a pic of the little guy/girl/blob.

6 weeks, 4 days

I have now officially made it the longest in a pregnancy without requiring an emergency ultrasound due to bleeding.  First when we lost Reagan's twin, and with the boys because of severe pain and spotting.  We have passed the first of our many hurdles.  And I'm feeling good.  Okay, that's a complete lie.  I feel like crap.  All I want to do is lie on the bathroom floor with a cold rag.  Ugh.., nausea and "morning" aka all day sickness has hit with full force.  Interesting how I don't remember much of the nausea with the boys.  I remember it for sure with Reagan, but maybe the stress of everything else with the boys made me forget all about the nausea.  How does one care for the kiddos while wanting to die all day?  Hmm...haven't mastered that one just yet.  And yet, in these days as we wait for the 8 week ultrasound, it's a huge blessing to feel so awful.  There is no doubt in my mind that I am definitely pregnant.  A little less intense nausea would be nice, but I'm sure if that was the case I would be struggling with doubts and freaking out that I wasn't feeling sick enough.  So, I'm just going to be grateful for the horribleness that is "morning" sickness, grateful we've made it this far without any complications, and grateful I serve a God who doesn't give me what this doubting heart deserves.

Positive :)


We found out on Andrew's birthday that we are, in fact, expect again.  YAY!  Another positive test, another little life.  We are in a state of shock, as all odds told us this one would have to fail.  We hoped, we prayed, but there was always this little nagging voice in the back of my head reminding me that it just wasn't likely.  And yet, God proved once again that He is bigger than all our stats and all the medical odds.  Honestly I just shouldn't look at them anymore.

We had some moments of excitement, we celebrated with a dinner out and the purchasing of an adorable gender-neutral newborn sleeper, and then the fears started taking over.  What if I miscarry?  What if my body fails again?  What if I start hemorrhaging while I'm out with the boys?  What if I have to go on bed rest?  Who will care for our children?  What if this one dies too?  What if he/she is born too early again?  And on and on AND ON my mind raced.  I feel like we have these weeks to count down to...if we can just get past 6 weeks, past 8 weeks, past 11 weeks...then I can relax.  Except there seems to be another milestone always right around the corner.  Maybe once I get to 27 weeks?  Then I can relax?  Though I'm sure I'll have something else to worry about then.  It's really sad.  And it shows me several things.  First, this could potentially be a long and miserable pregnancy even if there are really no problems.  I can create that all by myself.  And second, I really do not trust God with my babies.  If I did, I would rest in His glory and peace.  But I don't.  I feel like I can't.  Which is ridiculous.

All that to say, we are super excited, super nervous, and absolutely terrified about these coming months.  Which one wins depends on the day.  Please pray for us as we wait.

Happy Birthday Andrew!  Here was his last present of the day.  Subtle, but the best way I could include all our kiddos.

Transfer #3

Written 3/5/15

I'm sitting here with Dean on my lap watching Warren pushing chairs around the kitchen.  In the last 5 minutes there have been no less than 4 temper tantrums.  We sometimes average slightly less than 1 a minute.  Sigh.  But I love it.  Love the craziness of these boys.  Love how Dean puts 100% into everything he does.  Love how Warren follows him around and gives me a little smirk before he does something wrong.  (Ok, I am writing that sentence about Warren, Dean walks up and bites me.  We have time-out.  Warren poops.  I change his diaper.  See...craziness!)

Today, we are taking a step toward increasing the chaos of our lives.  I am simultaneous terrified and excited beyond words.  I am ready for another baby in our lives, ready for the sleepless nights and crying.  (or as ready as anyone can really be)  What causes the terror is the idea of pregnancy.  Let's face it, my track record is poor to say the least.  Pregnancy has never been easy, from getting pregnant to staying pregnant.  After saying goodbye to Reagan, we said we wanted to give all our children a chance.  (eek...that was 12 embryo at that time).  After the boys, watching them in the NICU, I wasn't so sure.  We're taking steps to prevent as many complications as possible, but honestly it's completely out of our hands.  And maybe that scares me the most...knowing that I don't have control.  It was a wonderful, freeing thought with Warren and Dean.  To know that the doctors didn't have to be right, to know that God was bigger than them and all the statistics.  And today, we're faced with slim statistics again (with regards to the transfer being successful at all) and my instinct is to take back complete control, to try to figure out what I can say or do to make it work on our end.  I diminish God and His power when I have thoughts that maybe if I pray more or study scripture more or say/think the right things then He will bless me with this child.  Because, then it's not really at all about God and all about me thinking I might, what, trick Him?  It's ridiculous, to write it all out.  But as I was not sleeping last night, these were the thoughts going through my head.

In just a few hours, I'll take my dose of Valium and, in a slightly dazed state, I will see my 5th child for the first time.  I'll meet the child who maybe shared a spot next to Dean.  (Wow, this is all so weird).  And I'll have to trust,wholeheartedly and with everything I have, that God is in control of this child's life, that He has a plan, and that His plan is better than mine.

Not sure if I'll ever post this, as we have kept our news of transfer quiet this time.  But I wanted to document my thoughts in the moments I am having them.  We are praying for a successful transfer and for peace as we wait.  If you're reading this, then we already know one way or another.  If you're not seeing posts announcing pregnancy with a cute picture of some sort, well, then you know.  Reagan will be playing with another sibling in heaven.  Oh, trusting is so incredibly hard...

Monday, April 13, 2015

End of Isolation

Our second season of isolation is officially coming to a close.  No longer will I have to be confined to my house with my children.  I can run errands like a regular person.  I can go to the grocery store to pick up that one ingredient I am missing rather than begging off neighbors or waiting for Andrew to come home.  And, here's the kicker, my kiddos can play with other children.  Gasp.  As a mom of micro preemies, all I think of when I see another kid is the germs.  Their little noses are constantly running, and even now someone always has a cold.  I know Warren and Dean will eventually face their first cold, it is inevitable, but I shudder to think about their little lungs.  I have flashbacks to their time in the NICU, watching them fight and struggle to breathe.  I cannot fathom the fear of hearing the rattles in their lungs, watching them struggle and fight for breath all over again, hearing them cry out in pain.  Or worse yet, not hearing them crying out as they are too fatigued from fighting.  Here's the thing...I don't know if any of that will be true.  They might be strong enough to fight off a cold like any other kid, their lungs and the scarring may have healed enough to handle it just extra meds, no trips to the ER, no hospitalizations.  We just don't know.  I just don't want to know.  But I do know this, I am going to have to let go.  Just a little bit initially, but eventually completely as they head off to preschool.  Eventually.

Until then, I am going to slowly start entering society again.  Maybe schedule their very first play date.  Maybe not sanitize them immediately if they touch something some other kid may have touched at some point in history.  We'll take it one step at a time.  Starting with a trip to the park and dinner out with these adorable boys, our first dinner out as a family, and their new found love of french fries with ranch dressing.

Swinging with Daddy.  Dean hated this activity...


Mommy and Warren

Daddy and Dean