This whole experience is so confusing. Most of the time, I'm ok. I don't think about it. But then something reminds me, like seeing 1:45 on the clock or Matt's sister's baby being born this week. Or nothing reminds me but I think about it anyways and I feel like I have to put myself back together all over again. Matt had that interview in a different district that would have a slightly different calendar than me, so we'd end up with different spring breaks. Then I think, if we have different spring breaks, then we can't go on the Brinkerhoff family cruise that they planned around our spring break. Then I think, well maybe I wouldn't be able to go on the cruise anyway because I'll be pregnant again. Then I feel guilty about even thinking about being pregnant. I'm afraid Nathan is going to think that I'm trying to replace him. Like it won't sting as bad if we had a different baby, a healthy baby. But then I think that I can't stop thinking about having more kids because that's what we've always wanted and what the scriptures say Heavenly Father wants us to do. When I'm not feeling guilty, I'm scared out of my mind. What if every time we get pregnant something like this happens again and I lose another child? I'm so emotionally exhausted. All. The. Time.
I'm scared of feeling like this - of possibly going through another loss. I'm not sure I even realized how scared I am. I'm flat out terrified. We go to the doctor specialist on Monday. What if she tells us there's something wrong and all of our pregnancies will most likely turn out like this? Or that there's nothing wrong and we just happened to have 3 so-called "flukes" in a row? I don't know what scares me more: knowing it would happen or not know if it will happen. There are days when I feel like I'm forward, that I'm able to think about it and not lose it completely, just get choked up a bit. Then I have a moment like this and I think that I'm never going to move forward - I'm just going to be stuck in this place in time forever.
I told Matt that I wanted to talk to a counselor. An LDS counselor. That way, I can talk to someone who understands the same beliefs we do about the Plan of Salvation but it could still be someone emotionally detached from the situation. I'm afraid that talking to my family, someone who has emotional stake in the situation, will only turn into a bawl fest and I won't feel any better. I mean, I can cry by myself. So I contacted LDS Family Services and I'm on a waiting list right now. More waiting. So in the meantime, all I can do is think about Nathan and be sad.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
"Dealing" with our loss
Nathan was born on a Friday. The normal chaplain wasn't at the hospital that weekend, nor was the head nurse over "special cases." We were told that when the chaplain came back on Monday that she would have the photos of Nathan developed and call us to pick them up. However, I woke up on Sunday morning completely freaked out that the pictures would disappear. That the camera would fall in water or someone would accidentally delete them. I was so distraught about it that Daniel, Matt, and I promptly drove to the hospital to try and get the pictures put on Matt's laptop. I couldn't go in. It was too hard. I sat in the car with Daniel while Matt went upstairs. He talked to the head nurse, Nicole, who apologized for not being there and gave us a regular box that they had just gotten the day before. We don't use it. We like our other one. Nicole told Matt they wouldn't be allowed to put the pictures on the computer because there were other people's babies on there as well so it was a privacy issue. She did show him the pictures though to set his mind at ease. It was good that he was the only one that went because I might have freaked out on them about not getting a back up of the pictures.
So we waited until Tuesday when the chaplain, Sharon, called us. We had my mom watch Daniel and I went back into that hospital, back up the elevator to the labor and delivery area and met with the chaplain. She had his pictures for us. They were perfect. She was super sweet. But I could barely hold it together. Ok, I didn't really hold it together. I tried. Because I'm always trying to be strong. Like if people see me weak, even people who see this pain all the time and know, then I'm less of a person. We made our meeting with Sharon brief. I didn't want to be there any longer than I had to. Before we left though she went back to her office and brought back a stuffed bear. She told us about this study that showed that many parents who lose a child have actual physical arm pain. That their arms ache. So she likes to give out bears for parents to hold. Plus, she said, they are super absorbent for when you need to cry.
Honestly I don't even remember much else that week. Nothing. I was essentially a zombie. The following Friday a few days later was the first teacher day back at work for the new school year. Looking back now, I should have at least taken my 6 weeks off like I would have for any other delivery. But my thought was, the sooner I get back to normal, the sooner I'll feel normal. I justified my feelings with the logic of how important the first few days are at setting the tone for the rest of the school year, which is true. 100%. But that was an excuse. I sent out an email to the people at work a few days before I went back letting people know that we weren't pregnant anymore but that I didn't want to talk about it and it would be easier for me if people didn't say anything, not even condolences. Honestly to this day I don't think many people at work know that I had Nathan. I didn't take into account though that not everyone would have read their email. I had been at work for all of half an hour before I ran into someone who congratulated me on being pregnant. Wasn't quite the distraction that I hoped work would be for me. I was able to distract myself the rest of the day though. That night, Daniel was asleep and Matt was watching TV on the loveseat when I was completely overwhelmed with grief. I crawled into the small space left on the loveseat and just bawled into Matt. It was a week that day. That he was born. That I held him. That I had to leave him at the hospital instead of bringing him home. I knew that Nathan didn't actually live so it's not like he would have been a week old, but that's what it felt like.
Going back to work didn't make things go back to normal. It just made me postpone my grief. I went days where I was distracted enough that I didn't think about Nathan much, only to have the sadness knock me over like a tidal wave. I was barely functioning. I was a robot during the day, working, taking care of Daniel, taking care of the house, and then at night I would think about Nathan. It got to be so much that there were times when I tried to not think about him because it would be too much. Maybe it wouldn't have been so intense if I had taken the time to not be "normal."
So we waited until Tuesday when the chaplain, Sharon, called us. We had my mom watch Daniel and I went back into that hospital, back up the elevator to the labor and delivery area and met with the chaplain. She had his pictures for us. They were perfect. She was super sweet. But I could barely hold it together. Ok, I didn't really hold it together. I tried. Because I'm always trying to be strong. Like if people see me weak, even people who see this pain all the time and know, then I'm less of a person. We made our meeting with Sharon brief. I didn't want to be there any longer than I had to. Before we left though she went back to her office and brought back a stuffed bear. She told us about this study that showed that many parents who lose a child have actual physical arm pain. That their arms ache. So she likes to give out bears for parents to hold. Plus, she said, they are super absorbent for when you need to cry.
Honestly I don't even remember much else that week. Nothing. I was essentially a zombie. The following Friday a few days later was the first teacher day back at work for the new school year. Looking back now, I should have at least taken my 6 weeks off like I would have for any other delivery. But my thought was, the sooner I get back to normal, the sooner I'll feel normal. I justified my feelings with the logic of how important the first few days are at setting the tone for the rest of the school year, which is true. 100%. But that was an excuse. I sent out an email to the people at work a few days before I went back letting people know that we weren't pregnant anymore but that I didn't want to talk about it and it would be easier for me if people didn't say anything, not even condolences. Honestly to this day I don't think many people at work know that I had Nathan. I didn't take into account though that not everyone would have read their email. I had been at work for all of half an hour before I ran into someone who congratulated me on being pregnant. Wasn't quite the distraction that I hoped work would be for me. I was able to distract myself the rest of the day though. That night, Daniel was asleep and Matt was watching TV on the loveseat when I was completely overwhelmed with grief. I crawled into the small space left on the loveseat and just bawled into Matt. It was a week that day. That he was born. That I held him. That I had to leave him at the hospital instead of bringing him home. I knew that Nathan didn't actually live so it's not like he would have been a week old, but that's what it felt like.
Going back to work didn't make things go back to normal. It just made me postpone my grief. I went days where I was distracted enough that I didn't think about Nathan much, only to have the sadness knock me over like a tidal wave. I was barely functioning. I was a robot during the day, working, taking care of Daniel, taking care of the house, and then at night I would think about Nathan. It got to be so much that there were times when I tried to not think about him because it would be too much. Maybe it wouldn't have been so intense if I had taken the time to not be "normal."
Saturday, August 20, 2011
The Hospital
We put Daniel to bed at his bedtime and got a bag together. My sister Becca came over to stay with Daniel while we were at the hospital. They said that the process of getting me to where I could deliver could take as long as 3 days so that's what we thought when we left. We got to Long Beach Memorial Hospital to start the process at 9 pm. Dr. McNulty had already pre-registered me and informed the nurses of our situation so we didn't even have to say anything, which was nice. The nurses were all super nice. Not fake nice or pity nice, but genuinely nice and caring. As it turns out, Long Beach is referred many of these types of cases because of their facility and training so our situation wasn't uncommon. It took 4 times and 2 nurses to get my IV in, so it actually lightened the mood for a few minutes. It all started falling apart when one of the nurses started asking about my medical history so she could input it into the computer. She asked how many pregnancies I'd had, etc. I don't remember many of the other questions but it was all I could do not to bawl. I fought back tears. Hard. I noticed the nurse did too. She was really sweet. One of the other nurses told me that she had been in my position before so she understood.
While the whole process could have taken up to 3 days, they said that once things really got going, the actual labor part would happen really quickly. Because of the length of time, they didn't want to give me an epidural too early. Instead they gave me doses of morphine. Dr. McNulty said that what we were dealing with was hard enough, that I shouldn't have to endure that pain too. She ordered a certain amount of doses and she was not going to be there for 3 straight days so she went off duty early in the morning. Throughout the night, what had to have been every 2-3 hours, nurses came in to check on me, check my progress, give me more of the meds to induce the labor, and ask questions to put in the computer. I think the only part that really annoyed me was the fact that I had to answer those same questions like 4 times. I mean, wasn't the information already in there? I was also introduced to the on call OB for the time being at like 6 in the morning. I don't remember much about that morning. I had slept like crap so I'm sure I tried to sleep a bunch. I know Matt went downstairs for breakfast at some point. Other than that, I honestly don't know.
Around 12:45, the morphine had worn off and I didn't have any more doses left. My nurse, Laura, suggested I take a shower while we waited for clearance from the doctor, who was in an emergency C-section. The shower did help. Right before the shower, I encouraged Matt to go get some food but he decided to stay. When I got out of the shower, I sat down and tried to brush my hair. It was that moment that the pain got exponentially worse. Matt called in Laura who checked me and said that it was almost time for me to start pushing. They weren't kidding about the speed once it started. Of course that meant that it was too late for an epidural. Luckily the delivery was quick and not too painful.
Nathan Henry Brinkerhoff was born still at 1:45 pm on Friday, August 19, 2011. He weighed 7 ounces and measured 9 inches long. He was absolutely perfect. Perfect everything. He looks a lot like Daniel's 4D ultrasound pictures. When he was wrapped up and handed to me, he even had his arm up with his hand behind his head like he was just hanging out, just like Daniel. I kissed his tiny little palms and face. We held him for about 3 hours before we had Laura take his measurements and clean him up. Then she took his handprints and footprints and dressed him. We picked out a baby blue outfit with a white cap. Laura took some pictures of him for us to have. Apparently we would get them the next week. Once he was dressed, we held him, prayed with him, talked to him, and watched football with him for a total of 8 hours. It was some of the most precious moments of my life and I wouldn't trade them for the world.
Late that night though, we decided that while these moments were special and we loved them, that Nathan's spirit was gone and it was time to go home. So Matt held Nathan while I got dressed and we both snuggled him one last time. Handing my baby Nathan over to the nurse was the hardest thing that I have ever done in my life. As she carried him away, I just sobbed into Matt's shoulder. I know that it's not the last time I was going to see him but I would be missing him every day until then. Nathan was taken back to have his autopsy done later and the nurse came back with a box of momentos, like the blanket he was in and his clothes. Apparently they had run out of regular boxes and so one of the night nurses had created one with what looked like a half gallon frosted ice cream tub and a sharpie. It turned out pretty cute. Matt mentioned that this changed us forever, but for the better. He said that all this does is make him want to be better so he knows he's good enough to be with Nathan again.
Having the knowledge of the Plan of Salvation didn't make leaving the hospital easier. It made it possible. If I actually thought that was the last time I'd see my Nathan, I don't think I could have left. They would have had to kick me out at some point. I am grateful for that knowledge because it's the only thing that made this experience bearable.
While the whole process could have taken up to 3 days, they said that once things really got going, the actual labor part would happen really quickly. Because of the length of time, they didn't want to give me an epidural too early. Instead they gave me doses of morphine. Dr. McNulty said that what we were dealing with was hard enough, that I shouldn't have to endure that pain too. She ordered a certain amount of doses and she was not going to be there for 3 straight days so she went off duty early in the morning. Throughout the night, what had to have been every 2-3 hours, nurses came in to check on me, check my progress, give me more of the meds to induce the labor, and ask questions to put in the computer. I think the only part that really annoyed me was the fact that I had to answer those same questions like 4 times. I mean, wasn't the information already in there? I was also introduced to the on call OB for the time being at like 6 in the morning. I don't remember much about that morning. I had slept like crap so I'm sure I tried to sleep a bunch. I know Matt went downstairs for breakfast at some point. Other than that, I honestly don't know.
Around 12:45, the morphine had worn off and I didn't have any more doses left. My nurse, Laura, suggested I take a shower while we waited for clearance from the doctor, who was in an emergency C-section. The shower did help. Right before the shower, I encouraged Matt to go get some food but he decided to stay. When I got out of the shower, I sat down and tried to brush my hair. It was that moment that the pain got exponentially worse. Matt called in Laura who checked me and said that it was almost time for me to start pushing. They weren't kidding about the speed once it started. Of course that meant that it was too late for an epidural. Luckily the delivery was quick and not too painful.
Nathan Henry Brinkerhoff was born still at 1:45 pm on Friday, August 19, 2011. He weighed 7 ounces and measured 9 inches long. He was absolutely perfect. Perfect everything. He looks a lot like Daniel's 4D ultrasound pictures. When he was wrapped up and handed to me, he even had his arm up with his hand behind his head like he was just hanging out, just like Daniel. I kissed his tiny little palms and face. We held him for about 3 hours before we had Laura take his measurements and clean him up. Then she took his handprints and footprints and dressed him. We picked out a baby blue outfit with a white cap. Laura took some pictures of him for us to have. Apparently we would get them the next week. Once he was dressed, we held him, prayed with him, talked to him, and watched football with him for a total of 8 hours. It was some of the most precious moments of my life and I wouldn't trade them for the world.
Late that night though, we decided that while these moments were special and we loved them, that Nathan's spirit was gone and it was time to go home. So Matt held Nathan while I got dressed and we both snuggled him one last time. Handing my baby Nathan over to the nurse was the hardest thing that I have ever done in my life. As she carried him away, I just sobbed into Matt's shoulder. I know that it's not the last time I was going to see him but I would be missing him every day until then. Nathan was taken back to have his autopsy done later and the nurse came back with a box of momentos, like the blanket he was in and his clothes. Apparently they had run out of regular boxes and so one of the night nurses had created one with what looked like a half gallon frosted ice cream tub and a sharpie. It turned out pretty cute. Matt mentioned that this changed us forever, but for the better. He said that all this does is make him want to be better so he knows he's good enough to be with Nathan again.
Having the knowledge of the Plan of Salvation didn't make leaving the hospital easier. It made it possible. If I actually thought that was the last time I'd see my Nathan, I don't think I could have left. They would have had to kick me out at some point. I am grateful for that knowledge because it's the only thing that made this experience bearable.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
The Next Few Days
We are pretty religious people. Maybe not as religious as we should be, but we do try. We have beliefs, faith, testimony, and knowledge that a huge portion of the world does not. I know that Heavenly Father has a plan. Not just the whole Plan of Salvation for everyone but a plan for me, Erin Brinkerhoff, and for my family. He knows what's best for me and has knowledge that I couldn't possibly have. I know that if he needs this baby right now, then that's what's best. That makes this a pretty special spirit. But all of this stuff that I "know" doesn't make it hurt any less. I keep thinking "What is it that I'm supposed to be learning from all these trials?" I thought that it was that His plan was more important than my plan when they don't match up. I feel as though I've learned that; I truly believe that even if it's not what I originally imagined, that He still knows best and I am better off for it. So now with the third pregnancy in a row ending in heartache, I don't know what else it is that He wants me to learn. I know that our trials are supposed to make us stronger but I don't know how much stronger He expects me to be. Then, of course, the thoughts run into my mind that it's my fault. I'm not righteous enough or worthy enough, if only I prayed more or read my scriptures more or provided more service. If only I had done this, or hadn't done that. Then maybe my baby would be ok.
I did a lot of crying the day we found out. I tried going to sleep that night and couldn't because my mind was just racing. I got up to watch TV to take my mind off of it. It worked for a moment but I still couldn't sleep so I thought I'd do something productive and read some scriptures. I wasn't looking for anything in particular. I don't remember if that's where I was stopped or if I just picked a spot. Either way, I came across Alma 26:27. It's when the sons of Heleman were trying to preach to the Lamanites and were practically run out of town. The scripture says "Now when our hearts were depressed, and we were about to turn back, behold the Lord comforted us, and said: ... bear with patience thine afflictions and I will give unto you success." I wasn't looking for a scripture like that so I know He was answering a prayer I hadn't even given yet. The question that, frankly, I was too afraid or guilty to ask: Will we ever have more children? Reading that made me feel a little better. But then I started lacking faith and wonder "does that mean we'll have success next time or just eventually?" I'm afraid that if success doesn't come and we have to go through either more miscarriages or like what we were going through with this pregnancy, I'm not going to be strong enough to not give up and bear with patience my afflictions.
The next morning when I was alone in the kitchen I talked to the baby. Is that stupid? I told the baby that its mommy and daddy love it very much and wish that things could be different, that we could hold it and take care of it and have it live a long healthy life. I told the baby we didn't want to do this but that it must be a really special spirit for Heavenly Father to want back so soon. I told it that Heavenly Father was so much smarter than us and He knew what was best for baby. It made mommy and daddy really sad but we know that Heavenly Father has bigger and better things planned for it than this life. I don't have any clue if the baby could hear me but I know Heavenly Father could and either way, it seemed to make me feel better for a little.
Matt and I talked to people. Matt's aunt's OB is LDS so we talked to him. It was nice to talk to someone with the same beliefs we do to put things into perspective. We also counseled with our bishop. I don't remember everything he said but he encouraged us to go to the temple. He asked Matt to fast the next day and make it to the temple. So we made an appointment for the 8 pm session the following day, Wednesday the 17th.
The next morning Daniel was lying in bed with me and asked about my baby tummy. That's what we had been calling the pregnancy so he would be careful with me. It was all I could do not to bawl. I told him baby was sick and that it was going back to Heavenly Father soon. He said "Oh, ok." I couldn't hold it all in so a few tears came out and when Daniel saw me he put his arm around tummy and said "It's ok mommy." I really don't know what I would do without that kid.
That night we went to the temple. It had been way too long. Matt mentioned that this baby has already helped us to be better because it brought us back to the temple. It was a really small group so we had to be part of the prayer. I hadn't planned on it because I didn't want to do much of anything but Heavenly Father continues to remind me that He's the one pulling the strings. It was a really good prayer. The temple worker prayed for a lot of the usual things, general things that you would hear in just about every prayer. Then he prayed for those who had come that night with heavy hearts, who needed comfort. Talk about a tender mercy. I'm grateful for that temple worker who was listening to the Spirit to be a vessel for God's words to Matt and me. In the celestial room, I cried. I think I did an ok job of keeping myself from out and out sobbing but a lot of tears were shed. I didn't want to have to deal with this. I didn't want to think about the fact that I was losing one of my children. And then I heard clear as day (in my mind of course) "Your Heavenly Father loves you." I knew that. I've always known that but I really needed to hear it. It brought peace to my heart and tears to my eyes all over again. But I knew that whatever happened, everything was going to be ok.
On the way home from the temple, we decided a few things. We decided that we felt ok with having the DNE. We also decided that we were going to find out if the baby was a boy or a girl before the procedure. That way we can talk about it and refer to the baby by name. I didn't want to know at first because I knew that would be hard. I figured the less I knew, the more I distanced myself from the situation, the easier emotionally it would be. I think we decided that while it would be harder now, that it would be easier for us later. That way we don't just pretend that it didn't happen.
On Thursday morning we went to see the specialist that would do the procedure for a consult. She gave us the information, we asked questions, then she gave us some time to talk while she got the ultrasound report faxed over so she could tell us the sex of the baby. When she left, Matt and I looked at each other and both said that we should induce labor instead. It wasn't anything that she said, we knew all that information before. It was just a feeling that came over the both of us. When she came back we told her that we had decided to go ahead with labor instead. She told us then that she was glad we made that decision. Both her and her partner, after talking with the geneticist, thought that it was in our best interest to go through with labor for finding information for future pregnancies. But she didn't want to influence our decision beforehand. She also told us that the ultrasound report showed that there wasn't enough fluid to tell if the baby was a boy or a girl.
When we first talked about our decision, one of the reasons that I didn't want to deliver was because then I'd be able to see my baby and that would be too hard. It's one thing to lose something that is kind of intangible, that you never saw. It's a completely different thing to lose something that you have visual memories of. But, we decided, even though it would be harder, we could do that with no regrets. Maybe the whole thing would be horrible and I would hate holding the baby or whatever but once that baby was taken from us, there was no going back and having a do over. So labor was the final decision. We called both my regular OB and Dr. McNulty, who would be overseeing the whole ordeal. She told us we could come any time that night after 6. So that was it. We would be going to the hospital that night.
I did a lot of crying the day we found out. I tried going to sleep that night and couldn't because my mind was just racing. I got up to watch TV to take my mind off of it. It worked for a moment but I still couldn't sleep so I thought I'd do something productive and read some scriptures. I wasn't looking for anything in particular. I don't remember if that's where I was stopped or if I just picked a spot. Either way, I came across Alma 26:27. It's when the sons of Heleman were trying to preach to the Lamanites and were practically run out of town. The scripture says "Now when our hearts were depressed, and we were about to turn back, behold the Lord comforted us, and said: ... bear with patience thine afflictions and I will give unto you success." I wasn't looking for a scripture like that so I know He was answering a prayer I hadn't even given yet. The question that, frankly, I was too afraid or guilty to ask: Will we ever have more children? Reading that made me feel a little better. But then I started lacking faith and wonder "does that mean we'll have success next time or just eventually?" I'm afraid that if success doesn't come and we have to go through either more miscarriages or like what we were going through with this pregnancy, I'm not going to be strong enough to not give up and bear with patience my afflictions.
The next morning when I was alone in the kitchen I talked to the baby. Is that stupid? I told the baby that its mommy and daddy love it very much and wish that things could be different, that we could hold it and take care of it and have it live a long healthy life. I told the baby we didn't want to do this but that it must be a really special spirit for Heavenly Father to want back so soon. I told it that Heavenly Father was so much smarter than us and He knew what was best for baby. It made mommy and daddy really sad but we know that Heavenly Father has bigger and better things planned for it than this life. I don't have any clue if the baby could hear me but I know Heavenly Father could and either way, it seemed to make me feel better for a little.
Matt and I talked to people. Matt's aunt's OB is LDS so we talked to him. It was nice to talk to someone with the same beliefs we do to put things into perspective. We also counseled with our bishop. I don't remember everything he said but he encouraged us to go to the temple. He asked Matt to fast the next day and make it to the temple. So we made an appointment for the 8 pm session the following day, Wednesday the 17th.
The next morning Daniel was lying in bed with me and asked about my baby tummy. That's what we had been calling the pregnancy so he would be careful with me. It was all I could do not to bawl. I told him baby was sick and that it was going back to Heavenly Father soon. He said "Oh, ok." I couldn't hold it all in so a few tears came out and when Daniel saw me he put his arm around tummy and said "It's ok mommy." I really don't know what I would do without that kid.
That night we went to the temple. It had been way too long. Matt mentioned that this baby has already helped us to be better because it brought us back to the temple. It was a really small group so we had to be part of the prayer. I hadn't planned on it because I didn't want to do much of anything but Heavenly Father continues to remind me that He's the one pulling the strings. It was a really good prayer. The temple worker prayed for a lot of the usual things, general things that you would hear in just about every prayer. Then he prayed for those who had come that night with heavy hearts, who needed comfort. Talk about a tender mercy. I'm grateful for that temple worker who was listening to the Spirit to be a vessel for God's words to Matt and me. In the celestial room, I cried. I think I did an ok job of keeping myself from out and out sobbing but a lot of tears were shed. I didn't want to have to deal with this. I didn't want to think about the fact that I was losing one of my children. And then I heard clear as day (in my mind of course) "Your Heavenly Father loves you." I knew that. I've always known that but I really needed to hear it. It brought peace to my heart and tears to my eyes all over again. But I knew that whatever happened, everything was going to be ok.
On the way home from the temple, we decided a few things. We decided that we felt ok with having the DNE. We also decided that we were going to find out if the baby was a boy or a girl before the procedure. That way we can talk about it and refer to the baby by name. I didn't want to know at first because I knew that would be hard. I figured the less I knew, the more I distanced myself from the situation, the easier emotionally it would be. I think we decided that while it would be harder now, that it would be easier for us later. That way we don't just pretend that it didn't happen.
On Thursday morning we went to see the specialist that would do the procedure for a consult. She gave us the information, we asked questions, then she gave us some time to talk while she got the ultrasound report faxed over so she could tell us the sex of the baby. When she left, Matt and I looked at each other and both said that we should induce labor instead. It wasn't anything that she said, we knew all that information before. It was just a feeling that came over the both of us. When she came back we told her that we had decided to go ahead with labor instead. She told us then that she was glad we made that decision. Both her and her partner, after talking with the geneticist, thought that it was in our best interest to go through with labor for finding information for future pregnancies. But she didn't want to influence our decision beforehand. She also told us that the ultrasound report showed that there wasn't enough fluid to tell if the baby was a boy or a girl.
When we first talked about our decision, one of the reasons that I didn't want to deliver was because then I'd be able to see my baby and that would be too hard. It's one thing to lose something that is kind of intangible, that you never saw. It's a completely different thing to lose something that you have visual memories of. But, we decided, even though it would be harder, we could do that with no regrets. Maybe the whole thing would be horrible and I would hate holding the baby or whatever but once that baby was taken from us, there was no going back and having a do over. So labor was the final decision. We called both my regular OB and Dr. McNulty, who would be overseeing the whole ordeal. She told us we could come any time that night after 6. So that was it. We would be going to the hospital that night.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Then it happened
So relieved to be past the first trimester, we started making some real plans. When would we have the baby blessing? Let's talk names. At 16 weeks I was even feeling the baby flutter about and move. Then it happened. On Thursday, August 11 at 17 and 1/2 weeks, I started spotting that brown spotting again in the evening. Naturally I freaked out and went to the emergency room. After an ultrasound there, they told me that the amniotic fluid was really low and that I needed to stay hydrated, be on best rest, and consult with the doctor the next morning. Unfortunately, my doctor was out of town until Monday the 15th. Over the phone, she mentioned to stay on bed rest and stay hydrated until the appointment we set for Monday morning. That weekend was a little bit of a blur. I remember drinking so much water that at one point I threw up. But I have no idea how I felt or what I was thinking. I wish I had written it down then. Hindsight right?
I went in early in the morning Monday, August 15th to my doctor's office. When she did the ultrasound she said that the fluid was much lower than she had anticipated and we needed to be able to see why. Unfortunately that meant going to a specialist with a better (read high tech) ultrasound machine.
So we drove out to Long Beach, right by the hospital, to this OB office. It has a lot of different doctors there (like a partnership) including a couple of neonatal specialists. That's who we were going to see. When we got there, we found out that they don't allow kids so Matt had to sit outside with Daniel, my 3 year old, until my sister could get there. She had plenty of time because we had to wait about an hour and a half. During that time, my friend who had recently found out that she was pregnant texted me and told me that the ultrasound she just had showed that she was having twins. I didn't say anything to her about us right then. I just told her how happy I was for her and reassured her that she would be able to handle it. Nothing I told her was a lie. I was super excited for her and I knew she would be amazing. But it was such a weird bundle of emotions that I almost felt like I was lying.
We finally got called into the room and an ultrasound tech started measuring everything, the baby, organs, the pockets of amniotic fluid. But of course, she's not allowed to say anything. So in comes the specialist, Dr. McNulty. She looks at the measurements, takes measurements and pictures herself and then lets me put my shirt back down. She told us that the reason the fluid was so low was because the baby wasn't peeing. That's apparently what the fluid is after week 15, baby pee. The baby wasn't peeing because the kidneys, which by this point should be up and running, weren't developed properly. Neither of them. In fact, they were actually almost entirely comprised of cysts so the kidneys were never going to be able to work. No kidneys, no fluid. No fluid and then the lungs can't develop. In short, the baby may make it to term inside me but it would not survive once it was born. Our baby was going to die and there was nothing we could do about it. It was just a matter of time. We had 3 options. The first one was to continue with the pregnancy, let nature run it's course, and deliver our baby stillborn. This one had it's risks. Because there wouldn't be any more amniotic fluid, it's possible my water would break and not know it possibly causing an infection, which could lead to me going septic. Option 2 was to have a DNE, where I was put under and the baby and placenta would be removed. I wouldn't see the baby, and it was an out patient procedure. The last option was to induce labor now at 18 weeks and deliver the baby still. There was a chance that the baby's heart could be beating for a few moments after delivery but most likely the delivery would be too much. Dr. McNulty was very nice, she seemed very sympathetic, and gave us her information so we could get in contact with her when we made our decision.
We were devastated. Things were finally ok. And then in an instant, they weren't. Matt and I told the doctor before we left that we would be doing something sooner rather than later. Matt had a family friend who about year before lose his wife because she went septic so he was a little freaked out about that. Plus, working with teenagers and being super pregnant, only to leave and come back without a baby? It would be just as awkward and distracting for them as it would be for me. We went back downstairs to where Becca was with Daniel. I don't even remember saying anything to Becca. Matt must have told her. I came out and gave Daniel the biggest hug. I didn't want to let him go. In the car on the ride home he said "I love you mommy" for no reason at all. I am grateful for such a sweet spirit in my home and the chance that I have to have him in my life. I feel like maybe we have our Daniel and that's good enough. It's not what we planned but I felt like if this was it - that Daniel was our only child - at least we got a great kid. Now it was just time to make a decision.
I went in early in the morning Monday, August 15th to my doctor's office. When she did the ultrasound she said that the fluid was much lower than she had anticipated and we needed to be able to see why. Unfortunately that meant going to a specialist with a better (read high tech) ultrasound machine.
So we drove out to Long Beach, right by the hospital, to this OB office. It has a lot of different doctors there (like a partnership) including a couple of neonatal specialists. That's who we were going to see. When we got there, we found out that they don't allow kids so Matt had to sit outside with Daniel, my 3 year old, until my sister could get there. She had plenty of time because we had to wait about an hour and a half. During that time, my friend who had recently found out that she was pregnant texted me and told me that the ultrasound she just had showed that she was having twins. I didn't say anything to her about us right then. I just told her how happy I was for her and reassured her that she would be able to handle it. Nothing I told her was a lie. I was super excited for her and I knew she would be amazing. But it was such a weird bundle of emotions that I almost felt like I was lying.
We finally got called into the room and an ultrasound tech started measuring everything, the baby, organs, the pockets of amniotic fluid. But of course, she's not allowed to say anything. So in comes the specialist, Dr. McNulty. She looks at the measurements, takes measurements and pictures herself and then lets me put my shirt back down. She told us that the reason the fluid was so low was because the baby wasn't peeing. That's apparently what the fluid is after week 15, baby pee. The baby wasn't peeing because the kidneys, which by this point should be up and running, weren't developed properly. Neither of them. In fact, they were actually almost entirely comprised of cysts so the kidneys were never going to be able to work. No kidneys, no fluid. No fluid and then the lungs can't develop. In short, the baby may make it to term inside me but it would not survive once it was born. Our baby was going to die and there was nothing we could do about it. It was just a matter of time. We had 3 options. The first one was to continue with the pregnancy, let nature run it's course, and deliver our baby stillborn. This one had it's risks. Because there wouldn't be any more amniotic fluid, it's possible my water would break and not know it possibly causing an infection, which could lead to me going septic. Option 2 was to have a DNE, where I was put under and the baby and placenta would be removed. I wouldn't see the baby, and it was an out patient procedure. The last option was to induce labor now at 18 weeks and deliver the baby still. There was a chance that the baby's heart could be beating for a few moments after delivery but most likely the delivery would be too much. Dr. McNulty was very nice, she seemed very sympathetic, and gave us her information so we could get in contact with her when we made our decision.
We were devastated. Things were finally ok. And then in an instant, they weren't. Matt and I told the doctor before we left that we would be doing something sooner rather than later. Matt had a family friend who about year before lose his wife because she went septic so he was a little freaked out about that. Plus, working with teenagers and being super pregnant, only to leave and come back without a baby? It would be just as awkward and distracting for them as it would be for me. We went back downstairs to where Becca was with Daniel. I don't even remember saying anything to Becca. Matt must have told her. I came out and gave Daniel the biggest hug. I didn't want to let him go. In the car on the ride home he said "I love you mommy" for no reason at all. I am grateful for such a sweet spirit in my home and the chance that I have to have him in my life. I feel like maybe we have our Daniel and that's good enough. It's not what we planned but I felt like if this was it - that Daniel was our only child - at least we got a great kid. Now it was just time to make a decision.
I was done
I was at the point where I needed a break. I was done trying to get pregnant because obviously there was something wrong with me. We started using protection because I thought for sure that a baby right now wasn't in Heavenly Father's plans and I just wasn't doing a good job of listening. My OB was even frustrated at my two miscarriages so she ordered a whole bunch of genetic testing for Matt and me, which of course translates into getting poked with a needle and filling up enough tubes that I could have given someone a transfusion. Mostly she was confused because I had been able to carry a perfectly healthy baby to term with zero complications before.
Remember my whole theory about how it wasn't Heavenly Father's Plan for us to have a baby right then? Ya, before I could even track my next cycle, I was pregnant. My doctor was a little upset that it happened before the tests were finished but shortly thereafter everything came back completely normal. There was nothing wrong with us. Well, that's what the tests said anyways. So I was sent for ultrasounds and blood work like every week, the doctor tracked the baby's growth, and everything was looking normal. We got passed the 10 week mark and breathed a sigh of relief. At 11 weeks in our appointment, the doctor said we were safe to tell people if we wanted. With the exception of my brother and his family, no one in my family knew about the other 2 pregnancies and I decided there was no point in telling them. "So I was pregnant a couple of times but you know, the baby didn't make it so quickly go through the emotions of happy for me, sad for the loss, and straight to the pity - poor Erin." Really, what was the point? Matt can't keep his mouth shut so his family knew but they didn't tell anyone. With this pregnancy though, I put up a freaking facebook post. It was something cute and clever about something that Daniel said about the baby that I don't even remember now (I deleted the post later out of anger). Everyone was so happy for us. Baby Brinkerhoff #2 was due January 16th, 2012. We had gotten past the first trimester so now the chances of miscarriage drop dramatically. We felt like it had finally happened. Even at 15 weeks, my doctor said that things were progressing and baby was looking good. She wasn't completely sure because it was early but she thought it might possibly be another little boy.
Remember my whole theory about how it wasn't Heavenly Father's Plan for us to have a baby right then? Ya, before I could even track my next cycle, I was pregnant. My doctor was a little upset that it happened before the tests were finished but shortly thereafter everything came back completely normal. There was nothing wrong with us. Well, that's what the tests said anyways. So I was sent for ultrasounds and blood work like every week, the doctor tracked the baby's growth, and everything was looking normal. We got passed the 10 week mark and breathed a sigh of relief. At 11 weeks in our appointment, the doctor said we were safe to tell people if we wanted. With the exception of my brother and his family, no one in my family knew about the other 2 pregnancies and I decided there was no point in telling them. "So I was pregnant a couple of times but you know, the baby didn't make it so quickly go through the emotions of happy for me, sad for the loss, and straight to the pity - poor Erin." Really, what was the point? Matt can't keep his mouth shut so his family knew but they didn't tell anyone. With this pregnancy though, I put up a freaking facebook post. It was something cute and clever about something that Daniel said about the baby that I don't even remember now (I deleted the post later out of anger). Everyone was so happy for us. Baby Brinkerhoff #2 was due January 16th, 2012. We had gotten past the first trimester so now the chances of miscarriage drop dramatically. We felt like it had finally happened. Even at 15 weeks, my doctor said that things were progressing and baby was looking good. She wasn't completely sure because it was early but she thought it might possibly be another little boy.
Speedbump #2
After that October, I was freaked out obviously. Now that I knew that stuff like that could happen to me, I was going to take every precaution. I was going to be psycho pregnant lady. The doctor told us to wait 3 months before trying to get pregnant again. Of course, that timeline didn't work out with my work schedule but we felt like one of the things that we learned from that experience was that God's plan for me is more important than my plan. So, if timing wasn't what we wanted it to be, we weren't going to worry about it anymore.
In February 2011, we found out that we were pregnant again, though things with that pregnancy were weird from the beginning. My HCG levels were low and my progesterone was practically non-existent. We were sent to have an ultrasound at 8 weeks and the baby was measuring closer to 6 weeks but there was a heartbeat. I was put on progesterone and told to take it easy. And I was following orders to the T.
But on Wednesday, April 6th in the afternoon, I started spotting. At first it a little red, then it was mostly brown. We had tickets to the Anaheim Ducks game that night and Matt asked if I was sure that I wanted to go. I prayed about it and what the on-call doctor from before said came to my mind. I figured that if it was happening, there wasn't anything I could do to stop it. I had called my doctor, we kept my 10 week appointment for Friday. When we got to the appointment 2 days later, the ultrasound showed that the baby hadn't grown at all and there was no longer a heartbeat. We were told to keep an eye out for me to pass all the pregnancy tissue over the weekend. Basically to look for the sack that had my baby in it when I went to the bathroom. She wanted me to save it if I could and bring it in to the office so tests could be ran, since it was my second miscarriage. If it didn't happen naturally, then the next week she wanted to proceed with a DNC. Later that day, it happened. It was a bit surreal. Like I was outside of my body. I was able to collect the sack and save it to bring to the doctor on Monday. If you held the plastic bag I put it in up to the light, you could even see a little fetus silhouette. As I write this today, almost 2 and a half years later, I can't believe that I was able to go through that so objectively. How was I able to keep my baby in a brown paper bag in the fridge over the weekend? How was I not a complete mess? That's why I think I must have felt outside of myself, like it was happening to someone else. I think I feel more about it now.
As timing would have it, Matt's sister and family came into town the next day, providing yet another distraction for us. I'm not sure if that was fortunate or unfortunate because we never grieved at all for the loss. We never really had a lot of time for that either pregnancy. I remember feeling like this loss was harder because we actually got to see the baby and heartbeat and it was farther along. As I write this now, I'm overwhelmed with sadness because if memory serves me right, I think I threw away those ultrasound pictures. Out of anger, out of frustration, out of "dealing with it" by pretending like it didn't happen. Either that or I hid them really well. I hope that's the case and I stumble across them one day.
In February 2011, we found out that we were pregnant again, though things with that pregnancy were weird from the beginning. My HCG levels were low and my progesterone was practically non-existent. We were sent to have an ultrasound at 8 weeks and the baby was measuring closer to 6 weeks but there was a heartbeat. I was put on progesterone and told to take it easy. And I was following orders to the T.
But on Wednesday, April 6th in the afternoon, I started spotting. At first it a little red, then it was mostly brown. We had tickets to the Anaheim Ducks game that night and Matt asked if I was sure that I wanted to go. I prayed about it and what the on-call doctor from before said came to my mind. I figured that if it was happening, there wasn't anything I could do to stop it. I had called my doctor, we kept my 10 week appointment for Friday. When we got to the appointment 2 days later, the ultrasound showed that the baby hadn't grown at all and there was no longer a heartbeat. We were told to keep an eye out for me to pass all the pregnancy tissue over the weekend. Basically to look for the sack that had my baby in it when I went to the bathroom. She wanted me to save it if I could and bring it in to the office so tests could be ran, since it was my second miscarriage. If it didn't happen naturally, then the next week she wanted to proceed with a DNC. Later that day, it happened. It was a bit surreal. Like I was outside of my body. I was able to collect the sack and save it to bring to the doctor on Monday. If you held the plastic bag I put it in up to the light, you could even see a little fetus silhouette. As I write this today, almost 2 and a half years later, I can't believe that I was able to go through that so objectively. How was I able to keep my baby in a brown paper bag in the fridge over the weekend? How was I not a complete mess? That's why I think I must have felt outside of myself, like it was happening to someone else. I think I feel more about it now.
As timing would have it, Matt's sister and family came into town the next day, providing yet another distraction for us. I'm not sure if that was fortunate or unfortunate because we never grieved at all for the loss. We never really had a lot of time for that either pregnancy. I remember feeling like this loss was harder because we actually got to see the baby and heartbeat and it was farther along. As I write this now, I'm overwhelmed with sadness because if memory serves me right, I think I threw away those ultrasound pictures. Out of anger, out of frustration, out of "dealing with it" by pretending like it didn't happen. Either that or I hid them really well. I hope that's the case and I stumble across them one day.
The Beginning of a New Journey
We had planned on having our children 2-3 years apart. Theoretically, the first one would be out of diapers and the crib so we don't have to worry about 2 "babies." Given our jobs, we ended up planning on getting pregnant August of 2010, giving us a late spring baby. But then, the week that I was ovulating, I had to surgery to have my gall bladder removed. Nothing super serious but the doctor informed me that getting pregnant was not an option until after the surgery. Luckily I was able to get in and have surgery done the beginning of September. I was out for a week at school but it was done and we could still have a June/July baby - perfect for work. We tried (probably sooner than my doctors would have liked) and sure enough, pregnant. First try. We breathed a sigh of relief. We made the window, our plans had a hiccup but they were on track. It was still early so we hadn't planned on telling anyone but I went to my sister-in-law's to color my hair and when we were there, my husband said "Uh, do you really think this is a good idea - right now?" To which my sister-in-law said "Oh my gosh, you're pregnant!" So my older brother and his family knew but no one else.
Then the morning of Thursday, October 21 happened. I was 6 weeks pregnant at the time, according to my last cycle. I woke up like any normal work day, went to the bathroom and I was bleeding. Naturally, I was freaked out. I knew what this could mean. I called my doctor and left a message. I called an on call doctor. That doctor informed me that if it was in fact a miscarriage, that there was nothing that could be done to stop it and there was nothing that I did to make it happen. Sometimes, it just doesn't work out. No other explanation than that. My doctor called me back and I was set to go to her office at 9 am. I remember calling my department chair and friend, Mark. I was trying hard to not sound like a mess but I know that I must have sounded like I was bawling (which of course I was). Without asking me any questions, he said he would get lesson plans done for my classes and not to worry about anything. We took our son over to my sister-in-law to watch him. She tried to reassure me that bleeding can happen for a lot of normal reasons. When we went in to the doctor, she confirmed that I had miscarried though.
I was in shock. Like really, who does this even happen to? I'd heard of people who had miscarried and I knew that it happened. Even my husband's mother and sister had miscarriages, but I wasn't around when they happened so I don't think that I could connect to that. There was no one that I really knew that this happened to. Especially not in the church. I mean, our church teaches how important the family is and I had not in my 28 years of life heard of a church member having a miscarriage. I figured, we were good people, Heavenly Father doesn't let stuff like that happen to us.
I was a bridesmaid in a wedding that coming Saturday. I debated even going at all. We decided to all go up Friday though to try and take our minds off of it. Our tragedy actually got us an upgraded room. I'm not sure why my husband felt the need to tell them but they felt sorry (or awkward) for us and it worked in our favor. The weekend overall was a great success. But I mostly tried to push the whole event of the miscarriage out of my head. The sooner I "forgot" about it and the more "normal" I acted, the easier it would be. That was my way of "dealing with it."
Then the morning of Thursday, October 21 happened. I was 6 weeks pregnant at the time, according to my last cycle. I woke up like any normal work day, went to the bathroom and I was bleeding. Naturally, I was freaked out. I knew what this could mean. I called my doctor and left a message. I called an on call doctor. That doctor informed me that if it was in fact a miscarriage, that there was nothing that could be done to stop it and there was nothing that I did to make it happen. Sometimes, it just doesn't work out. No other explanation than that. My doctor called me back and I was set to go to her office at 9 am. I remember calling my department chair and friend, Mark. I was trying hard to not sound like a mess but I know that I must have sounded like I was bawling (which of course I was). Without asking me any questions, he said he would get lesson plans done for my classes and not to worry about anything. We took our son over to my sister-in-law to watch him. She tried to reassure me that bleeding can happen for a lot of normal reasons. When we went in to the doctor, she confirmed that I had miscarried though.
I was in shock. Like really, who does this even happen to? I'd heard of people who had miscarried and I knew that it happened. Even my husband's mother and sister had miscarriages, but I wasn't around when they happened so I don't think that I could connect to that. There was no one that I really knew that this happened to. Especially not in the church. I mean, our church teaches how important the family is and I had not in my 28 years of life heard of a church member having a miscarriage. I figured, we were good people, Heavenly Father doesn't let stuff like that happen to us.
I was a bridesmaid in a wedding that coming Saturday. I debated even going at all. We decided to all go up Friday though to try and take our minds off of it. Our tragedy actually got us an upgraded room. I'm not sure why my husband felt the need to tell them but they felt sorry (or awkward) for us and it worked in our favor. The weekend overall was a great success. But I mostly tried to push the whole event of the miscarriage out of my head. The sooner I "forgot" about it and the more "normal" I acted, the easier it would be. That was my way of "dealing with it."
Life as I knew it
Growing up, I always knew that I wanted to have a family. A big family even. It wasn't until I was graduating from high school that I realized how important it was to me. I wanted to be a stay at home mom if at all possible and spend the bulk of my life helping them become amazing people. Luckily I married an amazing man who wanted the same thing. We waited all of a year before trying to have children. We read about how to track my cycle, what we should do and we got pregnant the first month. We thought, wow, now we know getting pregnant will be easy for us.
In addition, women, you can all hate me. I had the world's easiest pregnancy. I didn't get sick, queasy, or even have a cold my entire pregnancy. I felt really good. I gained a normal amount of weight, my baby was growing perfectly, he starting kicking when he should, he was good about letting other people feel him kicking. Even when we got to the end of the pregnancy, I felt good. I kept thinking, what are these women complaining about? I'm 39 weeks pregnant and it's almost as if there's nothing different about my routine except that I'm fat now. I took maternity leave a week before my due date for fear that I might go into labor in front of 40 junior high students. I was bored out of my mind. I even went into the backyard and power sanded my mom's bathroom cabinets she was resurfacing. Maybe not my brightest idea but seriously I was bored and not the least bit uncomfortable.
My doctor induced labor 6 days after my due date late into the evening. When the nurses hooked me up to the monitor, she even said "that was a decent sized one, how you doing?" to which I replied "one what?" Apparently I had a contraction. I thought he was just doing backflips.
The next day shortly after noon, Daniel was born. Perfect. Easy. Amazing. He was the picture of health. To this day, he is an easy kid.
So you can understand that when my husband and I planned on more kids, we never expected what would happen next.
In addition, women, you can all hate me. I had the world's easiest pregnancy. I didn't get sick, queasy, or even have a cold my entire pregnancy. I felt really good. I gained a normal amount of weight, my baby was growing perfectly, he starting kicking when he should, he was good about letting other people feel him kicking. Even when we got to the end of the pregnancy, I felt good. I kept thinking, what are these women complaining about? I'm 39 weeks pregnant and it's almost as if there's nothing different about my routine except that I'm fat now. I took maternity leave a week before my due date for fear that I might go into labor in front of 40 junior high students. I was bored out of my mind. I even went into the backyard and power sanded my mom's bathroom cabinets she was resurfacing. Maybe not my brightest idea but seriously I was bored and not the least bit uncomfortable.
My doctor induced labor 6 days after my due date late into the evening. When the nurses hooked me up to the monitor, she even said "that was a decent sized one, how you doing?" to which I replied "one what?" Apparently I had a contraction. I thought he was just doing backflips.
The next day shortly after noon, Daniel was born. Perfect. Easy. Amazing. He was the picture of health. To this day, he is an easy kid.
So you can understand that when my husband and I planned on more kids, we never expected what would happen next.
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