Day 9: How Three Years Feels

I still cannot believe we're already hitting the three year mark on this road without Avery. So much has changed and yet so much has not changed at all.

I live my day to day life in a relatively normal way, enjoying Jude and Daniel, and taking care of our home. It's the moments that come and the occasional thoughts that haven't really changed. I still want my daughter here. I still miss her. I still feel the scars of those traumatic days that I somehow lived through. They were so emotionally scarring, something impossible to get over. I live on but I don't move on. That is my child. I carried her. She's me and Daniel, just like Jude is. I dreamed her whole life out. That love doesn't just stop. The pain of losing that entire life doesn't just shut off when the pregnancy is over.

I really believe I'd be a bit better off if my situation were different. If Jude didn't have to be the last child we have, I think I'd have a healthier heart and mind. I wouldn't ache so much inside. I will never raise a daughter. I will never buy those irresistibly sweet little girl outfits that rip my heart out when I see them in the stores. All I'll ever have are the few outfits we bought for Avery that still sit in a box in the top of my foyer closet. I can't part with them; they're a fraction of all I have of her... which isn't much to begin with. I lost Avery, and the future daughter I wanted to have. I never thought Jude would be it. I always hoped we had learned all we needed to know from Avery to save Jude and the rest of our children from the same fate she suffered. I thought I had the magical fix during Jude's pregnancy. But that still wasn't enough. It started to happen again. It would have happened again.

I try to be graceful. But sometimes I feel angry. Sometimes I just feel so bitter about all of it... that we couldn't change it, couldn't fix it. That the agony didn't end with losing Avery. We had to lose our future babies too, and endure a rough and frightening start with Jude, that nearly took my life and left me medically dependent. Most times, I just don't understand.

I know if things had turned out differently-- if the Lovenox injections and folic acid pills had been the successful regimen it was supposed to be-- I would still miss and love and ache for Avery, but I think the pain would fade a bit into the background, and not be such an agitated sore. I felt myself healing and accepting Avery's absence when I was pregnant with Jude. As soon as things went wrong at 31 weeks and my doctor gave me the news the changed my entire future, I felt that band-aid rip off, tearing flesh with it. A new wound, a new scar, a new loss. And that's where I am.

Yes, it's been three years since we lost Avery. It sounds like a long time from the outside. It sounds like enough time to get over a baby we didn't know... if you have no idea what losing a baby feels like. Three years is like three months. It doesn't take long for the time to pass, but time and grief are irrelevant to each other. If anything, the passing of time makes it harder. It's been longer since we've been with Avery and were able to touch her, feel her, hold her. As time goes on, everyone forgets. The world moves on even when we don't. I am always feeling like most people in my life forget her, don't count her, and don't remember what we went through. If they do, they don't show it. Some do. Most don't. I wish people would approach the situation through my eyes and not theirs. It's my situation after all. I need the acknowledgment. I cannot be denied her or what I've been through. It makes the difficult life even worse. It makes it harder to truly heal.

My desire is to be the kind of person Avery would be proud of. I want to be strong and happy and inspirational. I don't want to be praised or applauded, but I don't want to be the walking sad story who drags around the darkness of her struggles. I'm trying to be better and feel better. I'm trying not to want what I've always wanted because it hurts too much. I am a work in progress. Always.

Another new reality

These past several weeks have been a whirlwind to say the least. Life with Jude is amazing and beautiful, everything I knew it would be. I have also been spending this time healing physically from the blood clots that formed in my lungs about a month ago.

In a nutshell, I was hospitalized for about five days, at the end of Jude's NICU stay. We were both discharged the same day. It was a very horrible ordeal. At the risk of sounding dramatic, it left me somewhat traumatized. I don't want to go into my hospital experience. I honestly hate talking or even thinking about it, but even after my discharge, I lived in literal paranoia that I was going to end up back in the hospital. Every little pain, even a normal headache, would throw me into a fit of fear. I would even sit there, looking down at my tiny son, worrying that I wouldn't be able to watch him grow up. It was not a way to live! And I felt so angry because I just wanted to enjoy my new baby, my miracle. The one thing I have been dying for (literally) my entire life.

But since having a follow up appointment with my hematologist, I can breathe again. He assured me that I will be okay. As long as I am on my blood thinners, I am protected from future clots. And the pain I am still feeling in my chest is the clots going away, and the damage in my lungs healing. I really could have died. It was a very serious thing. I sit here and shake my head, thinking about how I nearly bled to death having Jude and then four weeks later, almost to the day, I nearly die of pulmonary embolisms. No matter what, I can never just have a normal childbearing experience. The premature birth and long NICU stay weren't enough. I will never understand why all these crazy things happen to me.

All of this brings me to the subject that is really plaguing me. The one thing that has been wrestling my joy away from me. At a time where I long to be happy and blissful, this new reality is blowing the dark clouds in. In the weeks since Jude has been born, I have been medically advised not to have any more children. There it is. I cannot have anymore babies. I type that and I still can't believe that's my life now. No, I have not lost my fertility. I can get pregnant (not with ease). If I really wanted to have more children, I could. But to do so would be horribly risking my life and the life of my baby.

In a month's time after having Jude, I almost died twice. Even with all of the medical intervention, the injections, the extra ultrasounds, the specialists, I only carried Jude six more weeks than I carried Avery. That doesn't sound very successful to me. My doctor even said, if Jude had not been born when he was, he would not have made it through the week. The same thing that had happened to Avery was beginning to happen to him. For whatever reason, my body cannot produce strong placentas. They begin to die and clot. I was told Jude's placenta looked worse than Avery's... and I saw hers and it was horrible. :(

There have been some people who have suggested that this couldn't be true. That with other help or down the road when medicine has progressed even further, that I can have more children. I appreciate their optimism but the facts are all here. To go against what I see right in front of me would be selfish. I could have another baby to bury. Or I could devastate my family... Leave Daniel without his wife, Jude without his mother, my parents without their daughter, my brothers without their sister... I don't know about you, but that sounds a bit risky to me. And even as someone who desperately wanted several children, I'm convinced that this is the right decision. As reluctant and heartbroken as I am.

The realization that Jude is the only living child I will ever have has really left me in a strange place. I feel ungrateful for being upset that I can't have more. I am thrilled to no end over Jude, but at the same time, I am sad. I can't help it. I gained him, an amazing miraculous gift, but I have also lost all the hopes and the dreams of the future children I also longed for. Jude will grow up alone and I never wanted that. I loved growing up with my brothers. To this day, they are my best friends, truthfully. He won't have that. His sister is dead. I wish this had been my choice. It's not fair to have the decision made for me.

I was the little girl who loved her baby dolls. Who played house incessantly. Who always named all of her dolls. Who kept lists of her favorite names and always knew at any given time what all of her future children's names would be. Sure, the list changed every so often as I got older, but I always had one. Scribbled down in the backs of my journals. First and middle, sometimes paired up with the last name of the guy I liked at the time. All silly, but that was always me. Daniel and I had our children's names picked out before we were even married. Jude has been named since 2007 (He was Jude Lucas then). Avery was named around that time too. I just always knew what I wanted. I have planned it and dreamed it forever. So why am I the one that loses it all?

In my actual physical circle, out of the people I actually know in real life, I have never run into anyone who has had it this way. I hate to complain, but mostly everyone gets to choose how many children they have and most get to do it with thoughtless ease. (Most, not all.) And even those who have run into difficulty haven't been forced to bear the excessive devastation I have. Again, hate to do the "woe is me" dance... I don't like to be that person. But I can't help but notice and wish I had answers. WHY ME?

I really thought my cross to bear was going to be the death of my daughter. I thought an entire life without her was enough of a burden to live with. I can't believe I have to endure this as well. I feel like I've lost my future children as well. I mourn Avery and I mourn the children I will never get to have. They had names. Uriah... Jonah... Cadence... I always pictured them being here. They never will be.

I despise that this is my new reality. Every time I have a baby I get a new reality. I hate that I am experiencing some of the same feelings with Jude that I also felt with Avery. Avery died. Jude didn't. I hate that circumstances have left me feeling slapped across the face anyway. I just want to be happy and have my babies. Why does that have to be the one thing I am denied? Disgusting, unworthy people across the globe can pop 'em out like it's nobody's business. There are women who kill their own children. Yet they are the ones who find it effortless. So many beautiful and deserving women struggle to even get pregnant let alone make it successfully through a pregnancy. I will never understand this and it will always anger me.

Before Jude was born, I struggled with bitterness against women who complained about being pregnant or who complained about the inconveniences of their children. It bothered me because I wanted so badly to have my daughter in my arms instead of in the ground and it was so painful to feel like other "normal" people were taking it for granted. Now I feel like I'm left with another reason to fight bitterness. Not only is my daughter dead, but now I am not able to have anymore babies, thus making pregnancy and childbirth even more sacred to me because I am now denied it. It's really hard to feel that way. Like even today at the store, there was a stupid onesie that said, "My mommy is exhausted." It made me angry. I gladly get up all night for Jude. Because I know I am so blessed to be able to. I lost all of that with Avery. I was up all night crying for her instead and that is not better. I love waking up to his sweetness all night, whether he's crying or not, because I know this is all I get. He's going to grow up and I will never experience the joy of my baby again. So, needless to say, my perspective is severely warped when it comes to this. It may be unfair and it may make me a jerk, but I'd like to think I deserve a little grace after all the hell I have been through that's made me this way.

This is all very raw and new right now. I am still angry. I'm feeling mad at God. I just feel like it's all so unfair. Oh I know, "life isn't fair." Regardless... Jude is here safe and healthy like I prayed so desperately for but I'm so mad that instead of being able to bask in the glow of his presence, I am mourning the loss of my will. My dreams. My own choices. I have my days where I feel like I'm accepting it. Where I know Jude is enough (because he is) and I'll be okay without what I wanted for my life. Then other days I just cannot believe that this is my life. That I am on coumadin (blood thinner) possibly for life (which will cause severe birth defects or kill my baby if I were to get pregnant on it). That I don't get to have my babies... I know I'm getting redundant now. But this has been festering in my mind for weeks and I haven't had the chance to spill it out until now.

I'm sure some people will like to think that I'm ungrateful for finding something wrong during a time where something beautiful has also happened to me. I am completely and deeply grateful for Jude. I am SO beyond happy that he is here. I am fiercely in love with him and am cherishing every single second with him. But because I love him so much and wanted him so badly and because I wanted several children so badly, this affects my happiness. It's not fair that he's all I get after everything that's happened. I never get to have my cake and eat it too, I guess.

Time will pass, and I will get used to this. I'll never like it. But I'm sure I'll learn to accept it. Until then, I have a lot of anger to work through. I want to live a happy life with my little family. And for the most part, I do. But I am still carrying so much pain. I just want all the disappointment and loss to be over. I just want to have all those everyday "normal people" problems. Not these ridiculous earth shattering ones. I know life happens and no one is exempt. But I could really use a break for the next few decades. Either way, for now, I am spending each day with my beautiful tiny boy... and letting him heal my broken heart.

Jude is here!

On Sunday, July 31, 2011, Jude Wesley was born, weighing just 3lbs 1oz and was 15.5 inches long at just 31 weeks gestation. He is perfect and beautiful...

The entire week since my last entry, I spent feeling uneasy. I was still on bed rest for my high blood pressure and I was letting it worry me. I worried about Jude and whether he was being affected or not. I checked my blood pressure several times a day and obsessed over Jude's movements. On Thursday, July 28th, I had an OB appointment. My BP was really high so my doctor had me do a non-stress test (NST) there in the office. I had to press a button each time I felt Jude move and he wasn't super active. But his heartbeat was great. My doctor then sent me to the hospital to have a biophysical profile (BPP) ultrasound done, just to make sure Jude was still doing well.

I went to the BPP and Jude looked great. The tech said she found everything she needed to find and all looked well. Despite getting a good result, I still felt a bit worried. I didn't like having high BP. I had it with Avery and things ended very badly after that.

Friday, I felt pretty good. A bit calmer. And thank God, I had Daniel take some cute photos of me on my parents' back patio. I had no idea they'd be the last photos of me pregnant with Jude.

Saturday, July 30th, is when things changed. The early part of the day was fine, but as it went on, I really felt like Jude wasn't moving as often as he usually did. I even felt like his movements were softer as well. But then I wondered if I was just paranoid. My aunt was over and was talking to me about my baby shower but it just made me feel depressed... like I felt worried that my shower wouldn't happen. That something was going to happen to Jude and he wouldn't make it til then. It was a sick feeling that I absolutely hated. It wasn't quite like the crazy intuition that I had with knowing something was wrong with Avery, but it didn't feel like nothing. I went into the bathroom and I cried. And I begged God to let me keep Jude. I felt so scared.

Daniel kept checking my BP and it was really high each time. We decided that I should go to the hospital again, just to make sure everything was alright. And to get some peace of mind that Jude was safe, if nothing else. I got admitted around 8pm. I had a nurse that I had when Avery was born. She remembered us and so many specific things about Avery's birth day. It meant so much to us.

Being hooked up to the monitor, Jude sounded good and normal. But I still felt nervous about him and whether my body was harming him or not. My BP stayed kind of high for the next couple hours. My doctor decided to just have me stay the night for monitoring, mostly for my own peace of mind because she knew I was nervous. The night passed peacefully and I felt safe there. I was grateful to not be at home worrying on my own.

The next day, Sunday, July 31st, I had my favorite nurse ever, Daniele. She was there for me during what happened with Avery. She was the one who told us Avery was gone and sat with me and wiped my tears. So even now, she is special to me and we have a special bond. I was thrilled that I got to have her take care of me.

Sometime in the morning, my doctor had me go for a BPP and cord doppler, to check the blood pressure in the cord. The tech said that Jude looked really good but she still had to figure out the results of the cord doppler. I went back to my room with Daniel, feeling a lot better seeing Jude and knowing he looked well. I figured I'd be leaving that evening, after my 24 hour urine collection was completed. (Yuck, sorry)

But not too much later, right before 11am, Daniele came into the room and she seemed like something was up. She grabbed a chair and put it next to my bed. She asked me where Daniel was. I knew that meant she had something really important to say. I told her he was in the restroom and I think she could tell I started to freak out in my head. She didn't make me wait for Daniel. She just came out and told me... "Jude did really good on the BPP... but the cord doppler came back elevated... The blood pressure in the cord is high... so Jude is going to be born today." I couldn't believe it. Daniel came out of the restroom and Daniele asked him if he was ready to be a father again. He thought she was just joking when she said Jude was coming. Oh but it was true!

Daniele explained things to us. Jude still looked good and healthy but what was happening with the placenta and the cord would begin to affect him if they didn't act immediately. My doctor would be there to do a c-section at noon, just an hour from then. She explained that I would have to be put under because of my blood issues and my blood being too thin. If I had a spinal, I could bleed out. And because I was being put under, Daniel wasn't allowed in the operating room. That's when I started to cry. I would not be there for my baby's birth. That was bad enough. But then Daniel wouldn't be there either? I absolutely hated it. I felt so sad for us, that my pregnancy was ending so suddenly and so early and that it wasn't going to be anything like we've dreamed.

I called my mom and told her to come immediately. It was a much better call than when I had to tell her Avery was gone! She was surprised Jude was coming but seemed so calm to me. I needed that. She later told me she was pretty much freaking out. I don't blame here, it was a big deal!

It didn't take long for Daniele and some other nurses to start preparing me for my surgery. Because I was being put under, they had to put my catheter in before I was knocked out. They wouldn't be able to take the time to do it after because Jude would need to come out as soon as possible before the anestesia affected him. I can't go into detail but that was one of the single most painful moments of my life. That was followed by getting my IV put in. Two veins blew out before finally getting the third to work.

After all of that, things calmed down a bit. I laid there, feeling Jude kick and dance. I started to cry because I knew these were the last moments that I would ever feel him inside me. I loved being pregnant with him. I cherished every second. I felt like he was being taken away from me. It was just too soon. I worried it would be too soon for him too, and that he wouldn't be okay. It was so hard not to worry and feel sad, to feel like I was losing my pregnancy.

Before I knew it, I was being wheeled out of my room and into the OR. It was hard to say bye to Daniel. I had to get up off my bed and get onto the small operating table. I laid there, crying, wishing I could be a part of my son's birth. His life was so special and such a miracle and I wouldn't be able to witness it at all. I could hear Daniele encouraging me as she helped my doctor prepare. It seemed like there were so many people in the room. It didn't take long to prep me. Before I knew it, the anestesiologist was looming over me and I felt myself fade away.

Waking up from surgery is one of the worst feelings, physicially. My first thought was how thirsty I felt. My mouth was so dry and my throat was so raw from being intubated. I could feel the pain in my stomach from the c-section. And suddenly I felt the need to cough, my throat itchy from having a tube shoved down it during the surgery. It was agonizing to cough. I don't remember a whole lot that was said around me, but I know Daniele was there. They were trying to get another IV in my arm because I had lost a lot of blood during my c-section. I needed a plasma transfusion. Because I have MTHFR and Factor II clotting disorders, I'd been on Lovenox blood thinning shots for my entire pregnancy. This was the reason for my bleeding issue during surgery. It was supposed to take 20 minutes, but ended up taking an hour and a half. It's weird to think I was in any kind of danger. I'm glad I had no idea about it until it was over.

I was then wheeled back into my room. Mine and Daniel's families were in there waiting for me. I barely recall seeing them. I remember balloons. I was trying so hard to stay awake but it was difficult. Everyone left to let me sleep off what I'd just been through. That's good, because I probably would've been embarrassed to have them all there looking at me!

While I slept, Jude was being stablized in the NICU. He did not need any ventilator for his breathing. He was breathing on his own! All he needed was a little bit of oxygen, just 35%. The rest he was getting by himself. They gave him a dose of surfactant to further help his lungs. The steroid shots I received the week before were a miracle. They were probably the reason Jude was breathing so well so soon. They also put in an IV for nutrients and antibiotics and a tube down into his stomach to drain any air or leftover fluid. He was also of course hooked up to monitor his heart rate, oxygen level, and respirations. When all of this was finally done, and Jude was safe and well, he was allowed to have a little meet and greet with our families. Daniel was the only one who really got to see him after he was born. One of the nurses let him kind of hold Jude for a few seconds before he'd been whisked off to the NICU.

I knew beforehand that I'd be the last to meet our son, but I was okay with that. I mean, I wasn't thrilled by it, but I didn't want everyone else to have to wait. I wanted them to be able to meet this precious little one that they have been waiting for and praying for too.

It wasn't until 1:30am August 1st, 13 hours after he was born, that I finally got to see our baby boy. I spent the day in so much pain. And it was agony to get out of my bed and into the wheelchair but somehow I did it.

I was beyond thrilled to see Jude. But to be honest, the moment was not what I expected. From my point of view in the wheelchair, it was hard to really get a good look at Jude. I was in so much pain, it was hard to sit there and enjoy anything. Plus, I was falling asleep and struggling to stay awake. Then, to add to it, a phlebotomist came in while I was visiting my son for the first time to draw blood from me. Could it not wait a few minutes?? So I do feel like that moment was kind of ruined by a lot of different factors. But nonetheless, it was still a dream come true to have a living, breathing baby that belonged to me.

I finally got my moment the following day (actually just much later that same day) when I got to hold Jude for the first time.

He was now in his incubator, what they call an Isolette, looking much better. I'd still been battling the sadness of no longer being pregnant. It was hard to feel like Jude was here when I was spending all my time in pain in a hospital room and he was not with me. But it changed so much, when I got him in my arms.

And I cried. I cried because I felt so much love. Because I have waited for this for so long. And because I lost this with Avery. Yes, I got to hold her, but it wasn't the same. She was already gone. But Jude is very much here and well. To feel his warmth and movement. To hear his breath and his sounds. To see his eyes. It's amazing and it's beautiful. He's beautiful.

I spent the next few days in the hospital, finally leaving on Wednesday, August 3rd. I still feel sentimental about deflated belly, missing feeling Jude and how big he made me. I've got lots of physical bruises and a new abdominal scar, but my heart is also feeling more whole. I haven't felt happiness like this since I was pregnant with Avery and knew nothing but bliss. It is hard leaving Jude in the NICU and not having him with me, but he still brings so much joy, and I know he will come home with us.

Thank You, Lord, for bringing our precious boy here safely!

Worrying

I hate worrying. I try so hard not to do it, but after everything we've been through, it's next to impossible not to. This evening, I hadn't felt Jude much. Even after I ate dinner, he didn't kick around like he usually does. I knew deep down that there was no way that something suddenly happened to him, but I still allowed the worry and the bad thoughts to set in.

Finally, I gave in and used my doppler after I thought I felt a movement. As soon as I ran it across my belly, Jude kicked it. He seems to like doing that every time I use the doppler. It didn't take me long to find his heartbeat. Daniel timed it at 140 bpm. After that, he seemed to wake up a bit more, and then he got the hiccups. :) I love his hiccups.

A lot of people tell me not to worry. Unless they've been in the shoes of someone who knows what it's like to lose a baby, then I don't want them to tell me that. I feel like I have earned the right to worry about Jude. No, I don't like worrying about him, but I don't like feeling that other people think I'm silly or crazy, as if I haven't been through anything to warrant extra concern for my unborn baby. All I know is a devastating ending. All I know of pregnancy is death. The only other baby I had died inside of me. No one can expect me not to let my imagination run. I can't be confident and calm all the time. I wish I was. I would love to be. It would make this so much easier! But I know I won't finally feel better until Jude is in my arms, healthy and alive.

I hate that pregnancy is so tainted for me now. I really do love being pregnant. I love all of the physical changes and difficulties that come with it. It's such an honor and a privilege to carry life. I think it's beautiful and wonderful. But the bliss has been stolen from me and it makes pregnancy so hard. I don't care how uncomfortable I can get, I accept that gladly. I enjoy it! Because that means my body is doing what it's supposed to and I will give up anything and everything, especially my comfort, for my little boy. But the worry that comes with it after what has happened in my past steals the perfect joy. There is still joy, but there's also a cloud of anxiety looming. It makes it emotionally exhausting. I'm not sure when I will be willing to have another baby after Jude. I will need a long break from being so emotionally taxed! Nine months is a long time of having your nerves jerked back and forth!

Sometimes I can actually picture never having a third child. That Avery and Jude will be it for us. All the painful injections, all the extra appointments, the extra pills, the fear, the worry... It's a lot to take on. I can't imagine what it's like to just take a prenatal vitamin everyday. To only see one doctor, once a month. To pass the first trimester and know you're completely out of the woods of worry. I'm not sure if Jude's safe arrival will convince me that I can easily birth living children, or if I'll be just as scared the next time. Who knows. But even if Jude is the only living child we'll ever have to show for, I'll be grateful. He's a miracle.

Halfway there

I hit the big 20 week mark yesterday. I think that's pretty monumental. Halfway to my little boy. I cannot wait until he's here safely and I can snuggle him. Thank God time is going faster than I expected. I can't believe I'm 20 weeks already. It dragged for some reason with Avery. With Jude, it seems to be flying and I am grateful for that. 40 weeks is a long time to worry and to wait for something I once lost before. I cherish feeling him inside of me, but if the time til he's here goes quickly, I'm fine with that.

I had another perinatologist appointment on Friday, May 13th. My blood pressure is still perfect and according to their scale, I've gained 4 pounds since my last OB appointment. We'll see what their scale says when I go for my appointment on Thursday. Of course, I got to have another ultrasound. It was the longest one I've ever had. The tech measured everything. Even pieces of his skull. I watched intently to see what gestational age everything measured. I was thrilled to see that everything measured either exact or bigger than he was (19 weeks and 5 days). Part of his leg measured 21 weeks! I think that's what the tech at the 3D place measured, and that's why she said he was a week ahead. She was basing it only on one part of his body. But that's okay. Overall, with all of Jude's measurements, he measures two days ahead. To me, that is good. Anything ahead makes me happy. Like I've said, Avery was always behind.

Jude is sucking on his hand in this beautiful profile shot.

I love his little face already.

The bottom of his sweet foot.

Jude's nice long leg. :)

His arm, with his precious little fingers to the left.

I loved watching the tech fill in the blanks on her screen with words like 'normal' as she made the report on Jude. She zoomed in on his precious little heart, measuring the parts as it beat away. I could never hear his heartbeat enough. It is so sacred to me.

I love that as I'm typing this, Jude is kicking and dancing away. I can feel him so much now. Everyday, several times a day. It was not this way with Avery. Even at 25 weeks, her last week, she was not this active. I love feeling Jude move around. It's my favorite thing in the whole world. This all feels like such a new experience to me. Jude is doing things that Avery never did or doing them completely different. That's how I know he's doing so well. I am so grateful for that.

I am very proud of myself because I now give myself my own Lovenox shots. I was having Daniel do it, but on Friday evening, when it was time for my shot, we were at Daniel's brother's wedding. Daniel was the best man and definitely busy, and even if he wasn't, there was no way he could come into the ladies' restroom with me to give me my shot! So I did it all by myself. I found it wasn't so bad, once I had no choice. Haha! So now, I'm able to do it and it actually doesn't hurt as bad (Michelle, you were right!).

Because of the above mentioned wedding, I finally got to see a dear friend who is the cousin of my brother-in-law's new wife. She had her rainbow baby in September. She has been here for me since Avery passed away, knowing what I was going through since it happened to her as well with her precious son. I don't know what I would have done without her. And now here she is along my next journey, helping me with my pregnancy and in my moments of fear or doubt. When I finally got to hold her sweet little boy, I cried. It was so special to hold him, knowing she was in my shoes not too long ago, aching for him just like I ache for Jude. She is my encouragement, my inspiration and I thank God for her. Thank you, Kelly. For being a true friend. I can't wait until Jude and Caleb can play together. <3

More appointments

Yesterday, I had two appointments. It was actually very nice to get two over with in one day, back to back. First was my OB. I was surprised to see that I have lost two pounds in the last two weeks. I never gained weight with Avery, in fact, I lost weight with her, so I always equate no weight gain with inadequate growth or an unhealthy baby. But then I need to remember, my belly is getting bigger. It didn't really at all with Avery. Jude is growing and he's a whole week ahead. Avery was always behind. To top it all off, I started out overweight so the weight gain expectancies don't fully apply to me. I talked to my doctor about it and she said that as long as I'm eating and the baby is growing, it doesn't matter if I'm losing or gaining. That makes me feel better.

I asked my doctor about Jude's delivery. If I would carry him until my due date or not. She said because he is doing so well, she would like to try getting to my due date, but definitely no further. But she doesn't want to deliver him before 39 weeks because of brain and lung development. She said I'll be having ultrasounds (biophysical profiles) and non stress tests probably twice a week at the end. If there seems to be any sign of a problem, he will be delivered. But if not, he'll come between 39 and 40 weeks. I am glad that he's doing well enough that my doctor wants to let him stay as long as possible. When I first lost Avery, there was talk of steroid injections to develop the next baby's lungs faster so he or she could be born as early as possible to leave my dangerous womb. But that was before we knew exactly what had caused Avery to die. And that was before Jude was on his way, doing so well, it's astonishing. I'm glad he will have the chance to grow the way he's supposed to, and not chance being born too soon where his eyesight, hearing, learning abilities, etc. may be compromised.

My blood pressure is still perfect, yesterday being 114/77. That's even lower than it's been. My doctor was extremely pleased. She thinks that because of my blood clotting mutations, the placenta with Avery didn't form properly. When she was born, the placenta has holes in it and just looked incredibly unhealthy. We think it formed with clots and that it even passed clots through Avery's cord, blocking blood and nutrient flow, ultimately taking her life. Because of the bad placenta, my doctor thinks my blood pressure was high, my body trying to compensate and work harder in place of the placenta. I was put on medication at 20 weeks to lower my blood pressure, but that didn't fix the placenta. So my doctor thinks that possibly, this new placenta has formed perfectly because I was on Lovenox when it was forming. That my blood pressure has stayed normal because my body is not compensating for anything else. And that is why Jude is doing so well. Because he had what Avery didn't. And there are no blood clots looming to threaten him. Of course this is all theory. We could never know for absolute sure that it's 100% true but based on all the physical evidence, it seems very likely. And it comforts me a lot to think that I may not even have to worry about Jude leaving us at all. That there is no threat to him like there unknowingly was for his precious sister.

My favorite part was at the end when we got to hear Jude's heartbeat. That sound could never get old. I love it so much. My doctor found it immediately which always puts me at ease. I don't like to be reminded of the day when multiple nurses used a doppler searching and searching for several minutes at a time to find Avery. And they never did. So it's nice when Jude is found immediately and I don't have to have those thoughts.

After we left, we were immediately off to my hematologist appointment. I had to get a finger prick so they could test my blood levels. I hate those. I'd rather get a needle in my arm... and I get a shot in my stomach everyday, but those finger pricks make me nervous! Turns out, my platelet levels are at 225 (they were 217 last time) which is still in the normal range of 100-400. When my doctor came in, he was very pleased with all of my levels. He said it all looks perfect. He was very happy and seemed so interested in my pregnancy and how Jude is doing so far. He wanted to know how my previous OB appointment went. He said I'll be put on Heparin in the last four weeks of my pregnancy, maybe even up to three times a day since Heparin doesn't stay in the body as long as Lovenox does. Three shots a day does not sound like a picnic but I don't care. I will do ANYTHING for Jude. I asked the doctor if we're doing everything we can with the shots to make sure all stays well. He believes, based on all the numbers, that the regimen we're following is good. And then I almost cried when he said, "You will be fine."

It's a beautiful when you feel convinced that your baby will survive. Most live without that thought even crossing their mind; it's a given for them. For moms like me, every milestone is cherished and every positive result brings tears. It's not typical. Right now I really feel like Jude will definitely be coming home with us and I like that feeling. I really hope it stays. I even feel physically pregnant this time and I am loving that. I never looked pregnant with Avery and I never got the chance to have the belly. It started weeks ago with Jude and I am feeling pretty big right now, even though I weigh 11 pounds less than I did at the end with Avery. I love feeling pregnant and I look forward to this belly getting even bigger. <3

Last night, Jude was moving around like crazy. It was the very first time that he's moved that much at once. It lasted for several minutes and I was loving it the entire time. I can't wait until I can feel him consistently. I am so in love with him and so grateful for him.

Thank You, God, for Jude's health and his continued growth and thriving. I just can't thank  You enough...

13 week rambling

I am now 13 weeks pregnant with this precious baby. Just one week left of the first trimester. It's nice to know I'm out of the woods in miscarriage territory, but in my case, that's not the worry here. Yes, I worried a bit anyway (especially when some of my precious fellow BLMs (baby loss moms) miscarried their sweet rainbows) but I know my problem lies later on in pregnancy. I do like to believe that all this baby needs is for my blood to be thinner, which is what my daily injections are doing. Maybe that's all that went wrong for Avery. Blood clots forming in her cord that cut off her nutrients. Maybe that will never happen again now that we know what is wrong with my body. These are the thoughts I have a lot of the time, convincing myself that I'll never know additional loss. And a lot of times I really believe it.

I already feel physically pregnant. Last week, my stomach started to round out a lot more. I'm not tiny to begin with, but with Avery, I didn't think I looked pregnant at all until about 18 weeks. Here I am, at 13 weeks, looking pregnant and not just fat. I would say that means this baby is doing well, on track for size. Avery never was and they never noticed.

I've already been able to find baby's heartbeat with our doppler twice in the past two weeks. I love it so much. But as soon as I find it and Daniel confirms that it's not my pulse that I've found, I just start laughing and lose it again. I can't imagine ever taking that precious heartbeat for granted.

Lately, I'm feeling impatient about finding out baby's gender. I have an appointment with the perinatologist again on May 13th when I'm just two days shy of 20 weeks. I'm pretty sure they'll do another ultrasound and I'd assume they could tell me the sex of the baby by then. That's just a little more than 6 weeks away!! I can't wait to put a name to this little miracle. This little one is such an intimate part of us and it feels so wrong not even knowing the gender or name. People have been asking me if I have any intuition telling me which it'll be. At first I had absolutely no inkling whatsoever, but so many people have been saying they think it's a boy. I guess since then, I have been picturing a boy more, but I still find myself picturing a girl too. I really have no preference. I just want to bring him or her home with us! The only thing that makes me prefer a boy is that I have no girls' names that I'm in love with. I have a list of 'okay' names that I'm not even sure I can fathom using. Our boy name is chosen though. He will be Jude. Just like Avery would have been if she'd been a boy. I've loved that name for at least four years now.

I'm so excited to find out who this little love is. But even more excited to bring him or her home with us to stay. <3

High risk doctor visit

On Friday, the 25th, Daniel and I went to see the University of South Florida's high risk perinatal team. It was a very long wait; we were there for four hours. But it was worth the time because so many of my fears were laid to rest. Plus... we got to see and hear our sweet baby.

The baby isn't big enough for a good picture yet, mostly just a bean-like blob on the screen. But we could see that precious little heart beating as we heard it. That was priceless. I laid there crying. It was somewhat bittersweet. The last time I had an ultrasound on my baby, she was dead... and there was a flatline across the bottom of the screen. I will never forget how that felt. Being on that table let those memories flood back in and I could not help being emotional... especially after hearing the most beautiful sound ever... the sound of my baby's beating heart. 178 beats per minute. Only measuring one day off in size. So perfect. We've already fallen in love.

After more waiting, Daniel and I got to sit down with the doctor. He was very kind and caring. I really liked that about him. He asked what Avery's name was and how we were doing emotionally. I appreciated that so much. He said I'd be having ultrasounds every four weeks and he's going to order extra tests to make sure it's only the two clotting mutations that I have and nothing else that could put this little one in danger. My favorite part was when he said that pregnancies on Lovenox injections are largely successful. That was a beautiful thing to hear. It made me feel so at ease.

When I first found out I was pregnant again, it was easy to feel like we could lose this one just like we did Avery. But now, I see a future for this baby and I feel a confidence that can only be attributed to my faith in God.

Whatever it takes

I am currently 7 weeks and 2 days pregnant with this precious Rainbow Baby. I've already had three doctor appointments. On Thursday, I met with my hematologist. He told me that it's not the MTHFR that he's worried about, but my Factor II clotting mutation. He put me on daily shots of Lovenox to remedy that. Lovenox will target the clotting system in my body. That sounds pretty good to me. My next two appointments with him are already set up so he can monitor my blood.

I've been having Daniel give me my daily injections. I've only done it for five days so far, and let me tell you, I really hate it. I'm not a baby when it comes to pain. In fact, I believe I actually have a high tolerance. It's not even the needle going into my stomach, it's the medicine that stings so badly. I have a huge bruise on my stomach from the needles. I actually start getting nauseous right before it's time for my shot because I get so nervous about it. I'm surprised how much I dislike it, really. But... regardless of how much I hate the pain, I will do that and anything else I have to for this baby. I'd give a limb to save this baby's life. I am already in love with this little one. He or she is only the size of a raspberry, but I am already head over heels. I'll continue to do whatever I have to. Gladly.

Friday, I had my first actual OB appointment. My official due date is October 2, 2011. I was shocked to see that I was 2 pounds more on the 11th than I was on the 1st. With Avery, I stayed the same weight for a while, then I lost a pound, then the week of her death I had lost 3 more. I'm not the tiniest to begin with, but I didn't think losing weight more than halfway through my pregnancy was a good sign. I'd like to think that gaining 2 pounds already with baby #2 is a sign that things are going better this time. I have more of an appetite (when I'm not feeling nauseous) and my nausea even started a whole week earlier this time. Maybe that means this baby is thriving more and demanding more of me. That sounds good to me.

I feel like my caretakers are doing everything they can right now to prevent the same outcome with this baby. I really like being able to see their concern and their attention. I already have an appointment on the 25th to meet with a Perinatologist. My doctor's office set that up for me on their own. I'll also be getting ultrasounds once a month and I'll continue to go in for blood work.

Even though all is going well, I still have worries. Especially when I hear of others in my boat having miscarriages. It's so hard not to worry as I think about them and pray for them. But I just have to remember that worrying will not change anything. This is all in God's hands and all I have to do is take care of myself and love this baby. I'll do whatever it takes.

Definitely pregnant

Today I went to my doctor for a pregnancy confirmation appointment. I actually let my imagination run, picturing them telling me I wasn't pregnant. But I remember doing that last time with Avery. I guess it's just so hard to believe that what I have been praying for is happening.

It was music to my ears, even though I knew better than to think otherwise, when the nurse came in and said, "You're definitely pregnant!" It made me so happy. Daniel and I just smiled like crazy. Hearing it from someone medically qualified just makes it more official.

I saw one of the office's midwives. She answered all of my questions, which I was very grateful for since it wasn't an actual OB appointment. She advised me to make an appointment with the Hematologist to see if I will  need to take Lovenox or Heparin injections or if any other blood work is necessary. I will be seeing a Perinatologist soon as well, sometime in the next several weeks. I already go back for my first OB appointment next Friday. My Folic acid has been increased and they will be monitoring my blood pressure closely. I feel so much better to see that the ball is already rolling. I'm not being treated like any regular pregnancy. They are treating me with extra care already.

I'm so excited about this baby. I don't like to think about losing this one like we lost Avery, but it's always in the back of my mind. How could it not be? I am aware that it's possible. But I am also aware that we can bring this baby home. I have to believe that. I am so in love with this little one. Boy or girl, it does not matter. I just want to watch this one grow up.

I like being happy and excited about being pregnant. Daniel and I talk about names a lot. I have missed that. Being pregnant takes me back to last time when I was pregnant. So yes, I miss Avery even more now, remembering these early days with her as I live them with her little brother or sister. It's such a blessing to carry precious life again... and it's a blessing to feel happiness again.