XO, Isabel

Hope and Courage: Our Surrogacy Journey

  • Home
  • About
  • Glossary
  • Ask Me Anything
  • Contact

Archives for August 17, 2013

To be a man in grief

August 17, 20133 Comments

I found this poem online today while reading through some posts on a support forum. I have been trying to find out who to credit, but I can’t find the source. If you happen to know, please leave a comment.

/////////////////////////////////////

To Be A Man In Grief

To be a man in grief,
Since “men don’t cry” and “men are strong”,
No tears can bring relief.

It must be very difficult to stand up to the test
and field calls and visitors so she can get some rest.

They always ask if she’s alright and what she’s going through,
But seldom take his hand and ask, “My friend, but how are you?”

He hears her crying in the night and thinks his heart will break.
He dries her tears and comforts her, but “stays strong” for her sake.

It must be very difficult to start each day anew
And try to be so very brave. He lost his child too.

/////////////////////////////////////

And, how very true. My husband hears me cry and I can see how helpless he feels. He tells me he feels lost, sad and numb. We do alternate giving each other comfort. It’s just not always easy. We talk to each other a lot, we sit quietly together and enjoy the company of our little bugger of a cat named Immie. She seems to just know that we are sad. She never leaves our side, she puts her paws on our arms or on our faces. She sniffs at the tears on our faces.

I know that my husband is grieving just as deeply as I am. He’s staying as strong as he can be for me.

I have been fortunate to have such an outpouring of support, but I think he feels left out. Very few are texting him to ask him how he is or sending him messages with sentiments about his strength. About his courage. About his bravery. About his loss.

He lost his child, too.

XO, Isabel

Share this:

  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Google+ (Opens in new window)
  • Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)

Filed Under: Loss, Miscarriage, Recurrent Pregnancy Loss Tagged: grief, husband, poem

A blessing

August 17, 2013Leave a Comment

Part of my struggle with this experience is to find where my thoughts end and my faith begins.

I found an article that contained a blessing from Rabbi Goldie Milgram, and it said:

May you be blessed to speak of your experience in the community. The shock and trauma you have experienced, the isolation and grief, may no others feel alone while coping with life. In Psalms we read that even after the devastation of the Babylonian exile, they prayed for ‘those who sow in tears to reap in joy.’ May your harvest come to you, even if it is not the harvest you expected, but still a good and satisfying harvest. May we all move forward into life with compassion for those we see pushing a stroller with a child inside, for we know not the pain that lurks in anyone’s life, or what toll may have been taken en route to their moments of joy. May you long enjoy life in each other’s arms.

Amen.
XO, Isabel

Share this:

  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Google+ (Opens in new window)
  • Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)

Filed Under: Faith & Spirituality, Judaism, Loss Tagged: blessing, faith, grief, judaism

Music to heal

August 17, 2013Leave a Comment

“I’m never going to know you now But I’m going to love you anyhow.” ― Waltz No. 2 (XO), Elliott Smith

One of the very first things I did to truly begin my healing process was to listen to music. Music is such an integral part of my life, I’m not sure I spend much time not listening to music. I did searches on Google to find songs about miscarriage and pregnancy loss. Or just songs about loss in general. There are many meaningful songs about miscarriage or pregnancy loss. Plus, there were just songs that have always touched me deeply, such as The Scientist by Coldplay or Waltz No. 2 (XO) by Elliott Smith (the whole reason behind “XO” in XO, Isabel, by the way).

Here’s a Spotify playlist I created to honor our son, Leo:

XO, Isabel

Share this:

  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Google+ (Opens in new window)
  • Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)

Filed Under: Loss, Miscarriage, Music Tagged: music, playlist, spotify

Leo’s Story

August 17, 20136 Comments

“Whoever survives a test, whatever it may be, must tell the story. That is his duty.”
― Elie Wiesel

I made a promise. I promised that I would find the words to share the story of what has happened to me. My husband. Our family. Our friends. What has happened has happened to us all. In varying degrees, surely. But, this story happened. This story is happening. This story will continue to be told so long as I continue to find the words to share it with you. This is how I will gather my strength. I will not hide behind a veil of privacy. I am choosing to not be silent about infertility. About miscarriage. About perinatal loss. I will not stay silent. There are so many faces and I will show mine with bravery.

Here’s Leo’s story:

Leo was my 5th pregnancy. He was very much desired. Very much loved. I was feeling a bit under the weather in early May and on a whim, decided to take a pregnancy test since my cycle was a bit late. I just felt off. Something was up. I bought a test at the Walgreens adjacent to my office building. I remember one of my coworkers being in the store and I didn’t want to be caught in the pregnancy test & family planning section of the store, so I made a circle around the aisle to avoid being seen. I was able to make my purchase and dash out of the store unnoticed. My first stop was to my desk where I discreetly opened the pregnancy test package and slipped one into my pocket and off to the bathroom I went. I took the test and almost immediately I saw two lines. If you have EVER experienced infertility, you will know that time and time again, you only expect ONE thing and that’s a BFN (Big Fat Negative). I saw those two lines and my jaw dropped in disbelief. How can this be? I got pregnant without any medical intervention? I remember my hands shaking and I nervously tried to sort out what to do. I start trying to reach my husband, I  believe text messages and Skype messages went along the lines of “OMFG. Oh $h!t! I’m pregnant!”

I immediately planted myself in a conference room with a telephone and my laptop and started calling around looking for a perinatologist and an OB/GYN, since I didn’t have one in the area in which we now lived. I certainly have never been to an OB, as I always avoided them to preserve my own sanity. I knew I was in trouble. I am a diabetic. I wasn’t on any medications, as I was foolishly trying to heal my own body with good food and I wanted to do it without medication. I was drinking green smoothies and cut out most all meat and animal products, I was feeling great! However, I knew I had to get on another plan. I had to get in to see a doctor immediately. I needed to be on insulin, and fast. The first week are the most critical in the development of a baby, and I know this. And I can blame myself all I want here. I can say that I had no clue that I’d ever spontaneously get pregnant the way we’re “supposed” to, because it just never happened to me. I was terrified. Perinatologist offices told me that they didn’t see patients without a referral from an OB, so I called a bunch of offices and missed out on one because of my due date being in January. And, so I took the first appointment with an OB that could see me the very next day on Friday, May 10, 2013.

My appointment was late in the afternoon and I was anxious to get the desperate help I needed. I feared judgment and criticism for foolishly being unmedicated. Because, on top of being diabetic, I have some issues with hypertension. It’s all part of an incredibly awful condition called PCOS, or more commonly now, Metabolic Syndrome. It’s a trifecta of awfulness. Being the Internet user that I am, I of course Yelped our soon-to-be OB and he had mixed reviews. We’ll call him Dr. J. He met with me along with his nurse, whom I will call Lolly (more on her later). I went ahead, despite the mixed reviews, because I needed someone NOW. And I figured if I wasn’t satisfied, I could switch out to a new doctor later. He saw me, did an exam, did a quick ultrasound, but it was too soon to see much. He took my blood pressure and checked my heart. His next move was to send me to the ER. It was late on Friday and he was not comfortable leaving me unmedicated and the fastest way to get test results and get me medication would be a trip to the ER. So, there we were, nervous and waiting. I was given insulin. I was given IV medication for high blood pressure. I was given lots and lots of fluid, because apparently I was pretty severely dehydrated. By that very next Monday, I was building a team of medical professionals that would help me along, including a great RN in the Diabetes & Pregnancy management program as well as a perinatologist and a cardiologist. I was feeling confident I had built a GREAT team to help me through this.

Because of my fertility history and recurrent pregnancy loss (RPL), I was beyond terrified. I was certain that I would miscarry at any moment just like every other time. I had never gotten as far to even see a small little embryo, yet alone the beating of a heart. I became a model patient. I was compliant with EVERYTHING. I changed to a very restrictive diet. I had become insulin dependent. I took my blood pressure medication religiously, only for it to cause terrible side effects. I did everything I could. The weeks passed and we were so far moving along as smoothly as possible. We saw growth in ultrasounds. We saw an embryo. We saw the flicker of a heartbeat. We heard a heartbeat. Each visit we grew more and more hopeful. I made it to 8 weeks. Then at around 10 weeks or so, we began our integrated testing to check for abnormalities, such as Trisomy 21 (Down Syndrome) and Trisomy 18. We had a Nuchal Translucency (NT scan) test performed, and when we received those results we were relieved to learn that we were screen negative with a 99.8% chance that our child did not have T21.

We made it to 13 weeks. We made it to the second trimester! Of course everything would be fine. It was FINALLY my time! Everyone told me so. Everyone hoped for me. We all believed. We started to believe it, we started to make plans. We started thinking of names. We started to get anxious to find out the sex of our child. My sister started talking about baby shower dates. I started poking around baby sites to look at baby gear. We made it to 14 weeks, and 15 weeks … and then to 16 weeks, 5 days. On this day, it was a Wednesday, we couldn’t wait any longer we were bubbling with excitement, that we paid for an elective ultrasound and to our delight, we were told we were having a BOY! Our little Leo. We were excited to share with our families and friends, that all special planning for unique and creative ways to announce this news flew out the window and we spent time on the telephone calling our parents from the car in the parking lot. Excitement all around.

On this very day, 16 weeks, 5 days, I went for the final part of our integrated testing. Not worried one little bit. In retrospect, when they did the ultrasound, I noticed that he was measuring about a week behind. Up until then, he had been measuring right on target. I just thought it was because it was a different ultrasound machine. First time there. I don’t know what, I just didn’t think much of it.

Then, it’s Thursday, August 8. Late in the afternoon, I get a phone call from our genetic counselor. I’m at the DMV and ask if he could call me back in 10 minutes. But, he has bad news for me. He tells me so in the very short time we did speak. I nervously awaited his return call in my car. I was already crying and trying to pull myself together to have a conversation with someone that is more than likely going to deliver some very difficult news.

He calls back after 17 minutes. He tells me he’s going to give me some numbers that are going to sound scary. My levels came back as screen positive for Down Syndrome (Trisomy 21). He explained that just because we were screen positive, it did not mean that he definitely has T21, but that we had a greater than 1 in 3 chance. He mentioned that the main reason was because my Inhibin-A level was very elevated. Where the expected range should be less than 2, mine was at 5.8. He went on to explain that elevated Inhibin-A levels also can be indicative of a placental problem that is associated with Intra Uterine Growth Restriction (IUGR), pre-eclampsia and pre-term labor. He went on to explain that an increased Inhibin-A level and its associated problems could cause increased blood pressure, of which I had just noticed that my medications weren’t working as they were before. He had a couple of options for us; We could come in on Friday or Monday. Since my birthday was on Saturday, I wanted to at least try and enjoy my weekend without more worry. So, we opted for a Monday appointment.

On Monday, August 12, 2013 we meet with the genetic counselor and she starts to explain the results and how they follow certain patterns. That although we sort of matched some of the typical patterns for T21, they also weren’t typical, especially the very elevated Inhibin-A level. We had a few options, including proceeding with a level II ultrasound, a blood test (Harmony) and/or amniocentesis. We opted for the Harmony blood test, rather than amnio, as we didn’t want to risk the life of our baby. We are then sent out to the waiting room and wait to be called back for our ultrasound. To be honest, I was sort of looking forward to see Leo again. I always enjoyed watching him move around and I was curious to see how much he had grown and to also reconfirm that it was a boy!

Sadly, I knew there was something terribly wrong the moment they began the ultrasound. There was no movement at all. I couldn’t see a heartbeat. I couldn’t see him move. He was just laying there still. I was holding my breath. I asked “is there no cardiac activity?” She says, “just a moment. when was the last time you saw your doctor?”

I started to cry. She turned on the audio and there was just silence. No heart to be heard. And I can’t shake the image of his little still body just lying there. She excuses herself and a few moments later the genetic counselor and Perinatologist (Dr. DM, who happens to be the wife of my Perinatologist, Dr. EM) come in to tell me that they want to take a second look. After they did, they just all said they were so sorry. The doctor in the room tells me that she will tell her husband the news, that she knows I am his patient. That she’ll call my OB (Dr. J) to ask what our next steps should be. The genetic counselor calls the State of California to discuss whether or not we should proceed with an Amnio anyway, but they all decided that it would be a moot point. Dr. DM comes back to tell me that Dr. J told her that they don’t handle 2nd trimester D&E procedures in their office or hospital and that I would need to be seen by someone else. I was referred to a Dr. K and they got me in the next day to start the two-day procedure. I’ll explain this process in another post.

My son left my body on Wednesday, August 15, 2013. May he forever rest in peace. And may I know that I did everything I could to keep him safe. To keep him with me and I wish I could do things differently, but I can’t. I can’t take back what happened. It just did.

We love you, Leo. You were wanted. You were dreamt of. You will always be a part of us. Forever and ever.

XO, Mom

Share this:

  • Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Tumblr (Opens in new window)
  • Click to share on Google+ (Opens in new window)
  • Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)

Filed Under: Infertility, Leo, Loss, Miscarriage, Recurrent Pregnancy Loss Tagged: grief, infertility, leo, loss, miscarriage

Hello. my name is Isabel and this blog is all about my experiences dealing with infertility, recurrent pregnancy loss, and our new adventure as intended parents in our surrogacy journey. Also, a little bit of everything else in my life. Welcome! read more...

let’s connect

  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Pinterest
  • Twitter

Subscribe to Blog

August 2013
M T W T F S S
    Sep »
 1234
567891011
12131415161718
19202122232425
262728293031  

© 2023 ·Designed by ElanBlogStudio · Built on the Genesis Framework

loading Cancel
Post was not sent - check your email addresses!
Email check failed, please try again
Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by email.