Wednesday, July 14, 2010

The greatest of these is love.

"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love" - 1 Corinthians 13

We are officially at the beginning of the end. And since I couldn't get through a 3 minute conversation with my mom and dad without bawling like a baby, I figured this would have to suffice for everyone out there until things calm down.

We met our new doctor today at 2pm (who I love, btw) and had a very thorough exam. She was very concerned about the two low and declining heart rates we had gotten so far so sent us in for an immediate ultra sound.

In one of the worst moments of our life, we witnessed our little miracle as it began its decent into dying. The heart would beat, pause a moment or two, then try to beat again. In the end, the heart rate was down to 54 bpm.

The doctor, while reassuring that any baby that is miscarried would not have had a good life if it was carried to term as well as of our chances of conceiving again, had little hope that this pregnancy would make it.

I have to go back in Tuesday to see if the heart has stopped and to begin the process of waiting for the baby to leave me. I am hoping it all happens quickly and naturally and doesn't hurt too much.

Right now, the only hope to cling to is that of the love Jesse and I share in addition to all the outpouring of love from our friends and family. I'll be back Tuesday, with an update, and be damned sure, we'll be back to chronicle the miracle of life when we're lucky enough to be pregnant again.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The HIPA aka the world's biggest pain in the ass.

We've had it with my doctor.

1) I called from my hotel as I saw the bleeding yesterday. Never talked to the doctor.
2) I called back after being in the E.R. for 8 hours. Was told doctor was going to call me back.
3) Left my phone by my bed to wait for call. 8am came. 9am came. 10am came. By 11 we had it and called ourselves. Still didn't talk to doctor.
4)Around noon, the receptionist called back. Not the doctor. Last straw.

Additionally, doctor never asked for my blood type during first appointment, so missed by need for the shot I got yesterday.

You're fired.

Except I have to jump through a thousand hoops to get there. Every time you switch doctors, you have to fill out a HIPA form designed to "protect" your privacy. Except if you don't own your own fax machine, this means you have to go in person and fill out this stupid form.

Seeing as I don't see myself driving down to Manhattan to get my records, I had to get a HIPA form faxed to J's dad's store, scan my license, have his little brother print it out, have his other brother drive it to the store, fill out the form for me and fax it back (thanks, guys). To get my records from my current crappy OB-GYN, J's driving to Worcester with my id, filling out the form, then coming back after an hour of driving (thank, love).

If we can get our driver's license online, buy just about anything under the sun, do our banking via the internet, why can't they just e-mail us a release via a secured server?

Sigh. At least we're moving forward though!

Landlocked

Blink your eyes. That's how quickly everything changes.

Yesterday started off in spectacular fashion. I got up early after an actual restful nights sleep (which for those who know me know how rare that is). I got in a great shower, packed my bathing suit into my carry-on for the trip, and decided to treat myself to breakfast at the Carnegie Deli. While there I had an awesome convo with my mom and decided to go shopping for the baby with her the Tuesday I got back because things were going so well.

I was on cloud 9 when I got back to my hotel. Using the bathroom, I got into a bit of a coughing fit (that pesky July cold again) and before I could thank God for protecting my baby, noticed bright red blood on the toilet paper. I took a few deep breaths, called Kristina to get a hospital recommendation, tried getting a hold of Jesse, grabbed my purse, then a cab, and headed to the hospital.

I was bawling hysterically in the cab, called my mom again, and was told to get my act together - stress is no good for the baby. Luckily, Amie got to the hospital almost immediately after I did so I didn't have to do this day alone.

Then the waiting began. I was at the hospital for 8 hours, most of which, freezing in a tiny hospital gown, waiting for answers. My friends could not have been better people that day. They held my hand, made me laughed, cried with me, and kept my mom and Jesse well informed of every step along the way. I cant' say I was terribly impressed with any of the doctors at the hospital, but at least we finally got somewhere.

One of the most nerve racking points of the entire process was during the almost 30-minutes long ultra sound process. When we had our first ultra sound last Friday, the technician talked us through everything we were seeing from the yolk sack, to the heartbeat, to everything in between. Here, the screen was turned away from me, and they told me over and over again that they couldn't tell me anything.

In the end, results were mixed. Baby was still where she was supposed to be, HcG was at 22,000 (which is good),but the heart rate was on the low side for 6-weeks at 92 bpm, 10 bpm lower than Friday. Additionally, because of my O negative blood type I had to get (a rather painful) shot of RhoGAM to prevent my body from making antibodies that could complicate a future pregnancy.

I also had the make the easy but upsetting decision to cancel my trip. Despite the trauma of the day, I was able to discharge myself, get back to the hotel (which was the most understanding place ever and didn't charge me a dollar for checking out 4 hours late), then to grand central and onto a train to Stamford, CT. My parents picked me up from there and brought me to their house where I was reunited with Jesse.

Now, what? I'm trying to rest and not do too much worrying. That's really hard. Especially while I'm waiting to hear back from my doctor (who still hasn't called me back, I'm not impressed). My discharge papers said my chances of carrying this baby to term is down to 50%...but I'm not sure how accurate that is. I'm scared. I love this baby so much already, I just can't imagine my life without her.

More updates when I hear from the doctor. Until then, my sincere gratitude to Jesse, Laura, Amie, Kristina, Courtney, my amazing parents, and my in-laws for everything you did to get me through yesterday.

Now we wait. And pray.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

Weeks 1-8, I mean 6?

Pregnancy is a piece of cake (remind me to re-read this in a couple months).

Since the big day, it's been relatively smooth sailing. I've been crankier than usual, eating more than usual, my breasts have been tender and slightly larger. But that's it. I've kept up my exercise routine, encouraged by my two amazing trainers to keep on going throughout this entire process.

The biggest change so far has been dietary restrictions. I never thought of myself as a real coffee addict until I had to give it up. I often wonder if it is the pregnancy that is making me so damn tired or the lack of caffeine in my system. Also on my list of no's: alcohol (which has been very easy to stay away from), lunch meat (slightly harder), hot dogs (I actually ordered one by accident at a concert this past week, took one bite, remembered I can't eat hot dogs, and threw it away), soft cheeses (very sad), tuna and swordfish, and sushi (I actually like avocado and sweet potato sushi just as much as the fish kind).

The hardest part of me so far is to stop worrying. We want this baby so badly, that the thought that everything may not go perfectly is heartbreaking. I spent about a week spending WAY too much time reading pregnancy blogs, trying to get to the bottom of how common it is to miscarry. I spent large portions of every day seriously freaking out, and honestly thanked God aloud when there was no blood on the TP when I used the bathroom. I've started getting better at taking each day as it comes over the last 3-4 days, but that has a lot of to do with our appointment this past Friday!

We met Dr. Neary for the first time very early Friday morning. According to my calendar, I should have been 7 weeks and 5 days pregnant, but upon ultra sound inspection, they found me at only 5 weeks 6 days.

Sidenote: When we were first thinking about having a baby, we told ourselves that we would NEVER have a baby in March. My grandmother, my twin brothers, my father, my grandfather, along with a handful of cousins have March birthdays. For us, March is Christmas part two - there is no way to stay out of the red. When we thought we were almost 8 weeks pregnant, the due date was Feb 20th, but now that we are pushed back, you guessed it, the new due date is March 5th. Even though this isn't what we intended, it may be a sign that this baby is meant to be born the Jones way :)

The baby had a strong heartbeat at 102 bpm - Jesse and I literally wept with joy as we "saw" our little one for the first time. The almost 2 week lack is most likely due to some odd ovulation on my part (and maybe explains why it took so long for us to conceive). The doctor let us know that when you can see the baby's heartbeat and there's been no bleeding, chances for miscarriage drop to under 5%, letting us truly breathe a sigh of relief.

We get to go back for another ultra sound on the 20th to ensure baby weeks is growing well - and I am pumped!

Other than kicking this pain in the butt July cold out of the way, I am looking forward to everything to come, especially for a cruise to Canada with my best friends!

Every story has a beginning..

Ever since I was little, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. A mom.

Fortunately, I was lucky to meet Jesse Weeks in December 2005.

Here's the story: we worked together, I knew "of" him, he knew "of" me, but we did not know each other. At a curriculum development meeting, I waved him over to take the seat next to me. We made some small talk where we both mentioned we liked to ski/snowboard. A week later, he comes to my classroom and asks me to go with him sometime. Having no idea this was a date (I'm not sure he knew either) I was totally relaxed when the big day hit. We hit it off immediately, he bought me dinner, then, late in the evening, while looking up at the stars, he went in for the kiss. As he dropped me off back at my apartment, he presented me with a beautiful bouquet of roses (which apparently were going to his dad who had broken his ribs that day if the "date" didn't go well). I called Kristina and my mom the next day, very confused, "I think I went on a date last night". Not a week later we went on our second date, a 6-hour excursion in Boston, then our second, then our third...

Jesse proposed on our one-year anniversary on a cliff that overlooked the ski mountain where we had our first date. 10-months later we were married in a beautiful outdoor ceremony in 80 degree October weather. 3 months later we adopted a puppy, Parker. 8 months after that, we bought a house. Somewhere in the middle, Jesse started law school at night, leaving him with 14+ hour days, and me with more housework than any one person can imagine. That left only one thing missing...

To be honest, the process wasn't as easy as I thought. I have to give credit to South Windsor Public Schools and my parents for some serious sex-ed scare tactics. At 25 and married, I was convinced that as soon as I had unprotected sex, I would get pregnant. That was not the case. We tried for almost a year that was coupled with let downs and tears followed by acceptance and calm. Right at the point where we were considering seeing a doctor to make sure nothing was "wrong", I was late. I remember taking the pregnancy test on June 15th with complete nonchalance, convinced that there was no way I was pregnant.

But I was. And I am. And that's where our story begins...with a question, a kiss, and the absolute LOVE of a lifetime!