Absence of Heart; Growth Of Others

Well, it's official today. No more Babe "ies".

Just Babe "y"

Oh, and before I forget, to mention...my SIL just went into labor today. Coincidental I suppose.

Today also happens to be graduation day for me. I got to say my goodbyes and hugs at the RE's office. She gave me her notes and looked it over. Thought it was interesting at least.

"GESTATIONAL SAC

Chorionic Sac A
Sonographic Visualization: Sonographic visualization is adequate.
Sac size: Size of chorionic sac is appropriate for gestational age.
Appearance of sac: Chorionic sac appears normal.
Yolk Sac: A single yolk sac is identified.
Fetal Pole: A single fetal pole is identified.
Fetal pole size: Crown rump length (CRL) is appropriate for gestational age.
Cardiac activity: Fetal heart activity is identified.

Chorionic Sac B
Sonographic Visualization: Sonographic visualization is adequate.
Sac size: Size of chorionic sac is small for gestational age.
Yolk Sac: No yolk sac is identified. A fetal pole is not identified.

The previous week notes on 'B':
Sonographic Visualization: Sonographic visualization is adequate.
Sac size: Size of chorionic sac is small for gestational age.
Appearance of sac: Chorionic sac appears normal.
Yolk Sac: A single yolk sac is identified.
Fetal Pole: A single fetal pole is identified.
Fetal pole size: Crown rump length (CRL) is small for gestational age.
Cardiac activity: Fetal heart activity is identified. "

In the end this data plus the sonogram photos will be the only record that this baby ever existed. Well that plus this blog and the lovely well wishes you all have left.

It's just so strange. I don't know what to call it.

The doctor's notes refer to the whole thing as "vanishing twin". Although this is true. One week there was a heartbeat and in the next there was not. Eventually the baby will completely disappear, so it's hard to argue with that term. I just don't feel right referring to this experience as that. Too medical.

Yet I feel guilty saying it's a loss or a miscarriage although I think that is the technical term for losing a twin at nearly 9 weeks. If that would have been the only baby it most certainly would have been. I'm sure of it. I'm at a loss to call it a loss. Too emotional maybe?

How could I call it a loss when I have so much? After eight years of waiting, we are going to have a baby. How could that possibly compare to parents who abruptly lost that one thing they thought they were going to have to bring them so much joy? Why should I receive even an ounce of sympathy when having a baby is still ahead of me?

But, by doing so am I adding to the notion that it will just vanish?

Perhaps I could just think that when this baby was conceived he/she asked for a bodyguard, someone to be on the lookout and make sure everything's on the up and up. Now that things are as they should the bodyguard is free to leave? No, doesn't seem right either.

I give up. I don't know what to call this experience.

Or maybe I do. I guess it's in the title I wrote at the start of the blog post. The "Absence of Heart; Growth of Others". I think this is true for many reasons. I lost a little piece of my heart when I learned the reality one baby was gone. The baby's heart is now absent. However, the other baby is growing and doing well. And our hearts (all three of us) are growing despite the bandage over the missing pieces.

And that I'm okay with. I'm a momma bird who lost an egg in the nest, but still a momma with a job to do just the same.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder? Right?

Miss me? Hopefully the title is true?!

Trying to toss my lack of posting guilt down the garbage disposal as I'm sure you will all forgive me...but still. I've been so bad and I'm so sorry. I probably should have realized how busy I was going to be and give everyone fair warning. We've had weekends stuffed to the gills traveling to see family and will continue to do so this weekend. In case you've never picked up on this I normally do my blog posts on the weekends. And not being home means one messy house, one neglected blog, buckets of bloggers whom I have not been able to comment (although I have been reading...and praying for everyone. Look at me! I'm a lurky loo now!) past due email responses piled up like the laundry.

I have started a few posts but they never went past the draft stage...which is a shame as one was a lot of work, and good stuff too...but now I guess is outdated.

So, first things first. Status updates. I am at 8 weeks. The frijole is doing well, last u/s heartbeat was pumping away at 156 bps. I haven't had too many symptoms. Boobies are still sore, obviously pretty tired as lack internet love can attest, and I'll get hungry pretty quickly. But, thankfully no nausea, sick feelings, food aversions, (or cravings for that matter either) mood swings or lost tempers. Not rubbing that one in...truthfully just waiting for the other shoe to drop in the symptom department. I'm glad I kept my fat pants from when I was a few sizes up from two years ago...they are coming in handy now.

Soon to be coming are posts of: Telling of the rest of the siblings and family, and Meeting of the Bloggers Three. I still owe you guys the following posts: Telling of the Soon to be Favorite Uncle, Telling of the Coworkers, and Telling of our Very Good Friends. They were each pretty cute ways of sharing the news especially with our friends this last Friday. A couple of my friends have actually NOT been reading my blog which made our reveals perfect. Remember when I had those warnings: Do Not Read if you know me IRL? They actually listened! And one very close friend was a complete trooper about it. When she found out on Saturday, her husband thanked me for "getting her" because he tries to surprise her with stuff all the time and she always figures stuff out. But, for some reason she kinda let it go and it turned into a grand celebration on Friday. I'll definitely share these...as I must have these stories documented anyway. (Memory growing weaker...)

But, until then I'll share something else going on. Let me start with a story.

There was a couple who inexplicably became marooned in the desert. Although surviving, it was becoming especially tough to keep going. Luckily the two had developed some pretty good survivor skills and had many people praying for them.

Then one day the two of them notice two riders in the far off distance. They are riding right towards them. They are overjoyed at the prospect of being rescued by these two special riders. Finally, to be taken out of the desert together and able to move on in their lives reunited with the rest of their family. They begin to make plans. They dream of the life they will have now that they will no longer be in the desert.

As they celebrate the riders are coming closer and closer. The hot sun is still blinding them against the sand. The heat of the scorched Earth distorts the picture and they begin to wonder if they are seeing a mirage. One places their hands on the sand to feel the vibration of the hooves. Surely this is not a mirage as they can feel the pulse. The rhythm of the horses is beating over and over. Rescue is certain.

As the image finally comes into full view it becomes apparent that although they will be rescued, there is only one rider. This changes much of the plans. No longer rescued together, they have to leave one behind. As excited as they are to meet this rider it is overshadowed by the fact that their plans have changed and their ideal situation will not come to pass. No doubt everything will be fine in the end, just not the initial intended outcome.

Anybody figure it out yet? This is how I picture our current situation.

At our 6 week ultrasound the doctor announced 2 gestational sacks and to start preparing for the prospect of twins. It was still super early at only 6 wks and 1 day so they wanted me to come in the next week.

We were so excited to be having twins. Something we had always wanted. We changed our prayers from "the baby" to "the babies". I couldn't help myself and started window (a la internet) shop for twin things. We started to consider the possibility of a much earlier due date and thinking we wouldn't be able to leave our area for Christmas to stay nearby our doctor just in case.

Then at 7 weeks both sacks were there but one slightly bigger than the other. We hear the term "vanishing twin" for the first time and the doctor prepared us for what would more than likely be the case. The heartbeat on the first one was going strong, but they couldn't even see the fetal pole on the second gestational sack. We were truly devastated. We heard the heartbeat for the first time, and it should have been a special moment. Instead I was too fixated on the second one to really "hear" it.

I went back to work and spent a good 90 minutes wondering what I was doing there. I described to my boss in an email (who knows what is going on) with the subject line, "tempered happiness"It feels like celebrating a birthday and a funeral in the same day. A co-worker (who did not know anything about our IF or pregnancy) passed me in the walkway to the parking garage and said, "So, how was your doctor's appointment?" Still alive?" He was making a small joke, and normally it would be funny. I laughed and said, "Yeah, still alive today". I shook my head. Boy, if he only knew. He brought his wife and kids to work and made a point to pass by my desk to say hello with them. I swallowed the lump in my throat and started chatting with the kiddos - three boys and a baby girl. They are very sweet, cute kids. I asked them how their summer was going and the two oldest were talking over each other with excitement to tell me about swimming and other activities. The youngest boy just shook his head in agreement. It was priceless. I could have hung out with them all afternoon.

Later that evening, as I shed my work clothes for night time shorts and t-shirt, it's as if I shed my "hanging in there" positive attitude I had at work along with it. I didn't want to eat, I couldn't talk to Marvy. I surfed the Internet, while he played a computer game most of the evening. We barely spoke for hours. I needed to do laundry and pack for our early morning trip the next day. I was in the mood for neither. I cried for hours that evening. But, by the next day things improved. We were able to have a day of celebration with my brother sharing in our news.

We changed talking and praying for "the babies" back to "the baby".

Then came week 8. As soon as the wand went in the difference in the sizes in the gestational sacks was huge. I didn't let any of that bother me, because I had already succumb to the thought that we were really only having one baby. Within seconds of the image showing up on the screen we hear the doctor say, "Well I can see a heartbeat flicker on the second one." The first one was measured and is right on track. She measured the second one and it is five days behind. She was unable to "measure" the heartbeat, but we could all see the flicker. She turned on the color flow on the ultrasound machine and you could see this pump, pump, pump in bright red, right where she said the heart would be.

I wasn't expecting that. Although I knew that was a possibility. I remember even warning Marvy the previous week that the second one could even have a hb and still disappear later. Still I guess it's different when it happens to you.

When Marvy and I went to lunch, he confessed to me his plan until the next ultrasound. He didn't cry but I could tell he was close. His eyes were very red. He said, "I want to do something. You don't have to do the same thing. Before, I just thought that there were two sacks but one baby. After today, I can't possibly give up on that baby right now. Only God knows what will happen, but I'm going to pray for that baby. It would be such a miracle and such and awesome thing if we were able to tell a story of how that baby were to come to be. He told me that he was going to give that baby a name, which he told me. He was going to do a fast for the next week. Not of food, but of time wasters. No TV, computer, radio, video games. Instead he was going to do something productive or pray for the baby by name."

So, now we are back to praying for "the babies" instead of "baby". And one of them has a name.

I'm stuck in emotional limbo. I had my cry at our 7 week ultrasound, I mourned for the idyllic image of an instant family of 4. I felt much better towards thinking there was one. Although I saw the flicker just like Marvy did, I do not want to get so attached that I become even more devastated after our appointments this week.

Well, there's the story of what's going on right now for ya. I've got the possibly "last" RE appointment on Wednesday, and our first OB appointment on Friday. Hopefully, we'll have some idea one way or the other by then, exactly which way this is going.