Answers

Anyone who's lost a baby wants to know why. Especially since, in the back of your mind, you always wonder if it's something you did or didn't do that caused it.

After our D&C, the baby and placenta were sent to pathology for testing. The OB had been worried about possible partial molar pregnancy (tested negative though). Chromosomal abnormalities were also ruled out. So we still had no answers. I had looked up statistics on miscarriage and apparently, at the stage we were at, there was about a 0.6% chance of loss. Pretty tiny.

So for the past few months, I've been wondering if it was something perhaps I'd come into contact with at work that had caused us to lose our baby girl. Exposure to X-rays? Medications? Viruses? I'm generally quite careful, but there are times when you have a critically ill patient and something is needed really quick and precautions go out the window....

I'd never stopped to think that maybe there was something entirely different underlying all of this.

About a month ago my hair started falling out. I have difficulty sleeping. My mind is "foggy" much of the time. I have an intolerance to cold. A Naturopathic Doctor friend of mine suggested I might have hypothyroidism. I knew it wasn't impossible since I'd had some "borderline hypothyroid" issues (now that I have the results in my hand I know that I wasn't "borderline" at all) when Jesse was 10 months old (back in November 2008). So I went to the doctor and got a requisition for blood work. Went I went for follow-up, he said my results were normal.

When I showed my friend the results, she told me that they were indeed NOT normal. She provided me with links to the American Association of Clinical Endocrinologists and the American Thyroid Association. Not only this hypothyroidism have caused the miscarriage, but it could very well be the cause of my secondary infertility. Which I've been dealing with since Jesse was a year old. It took 21 cycles to conceive Quinn and 17 cycles to conceive our baby girl. Apparently, hypothyroidism causes an increase in prolactin, which suppresses progesterone. Low progesterone can cause a luteal phase defect, which is what I have.

Of course, the next question is "where do we go from here?"

We do have a tentative plan in place. My friend is ordering a comprehensive blood panel to be shipped to a lab in Ontario that she frequently works with. Once I have those results, we'll be able to work on a treatment plan. I'm also going to go back to my own family doctor with AACE guidelines in hand, pertinent sections highlighted for him. Hopefully he'll see then that there's obviously something going on.

So we have something to go on and I'm determined to follow this through. I can't help but be bitter though. Maybe....maybe Carys would still be with us if this had been taken seriously back in 2008 and my thyroid issues had been treated. I still have a wicked case of the would-be's and should-be's.

Hanging in there

In Pregnancy and Infant Loss groups, "hanging in there" is code for "not great but not suicidal." It's what you say when someone asks how you're doing. Most of the time I'm just "hanging in there." Sometimes I'm happy. I laugh. I smile. Mostly at my kids and husband. But I still cry. More than I'd like to admit. I think about Carys all of the time. ALL.OF.THE.TIME. When I'm driving. When I'm cooking or washing the dishes or cleaning or doing laundry. When I'm lying awake at night. And I lie awake at night a lot.

It's been 14 weeks now since the D&C. I've now been not pregnant longer than I was pregnant. It seems like that should mean something. That I've healed and we're moving on. And we are. Or we're trying to. Moving on without her hurts though. I know I have to, but I really, really don't want to. It's like time is dragging me kicking and screaming into a future without my baby girl, like a mom drags her unruly toddler out to the car to get to whatever appointment they're already late for (a scene this family knows all too well). I know it's happening whether I want it to or not...just don't expect me to be happy about it.

The kids are adjusting well. For Christmas I arranged for them to have teddy bears with a recording of Carys's heartbeat inside. They love those bears. Jesse has actually taken his to school and to his home day care. I'm honestly not certain how it's been received, but he really treasures that bear. And I want him to be able to talk about the baby and know that it's OK to do so. He's told me he's going to keep his bear til he's "really old like Grampy." (Grampy is my grandfather.) Every so often Quinn comes up to me and asks if there's a baby in my belly. When I say "no" he says "baby died." "Yes Quinn, baby died." Then he gives me a kiss and a hug. He's really very sweet.

So, where do we go from here? We're trying again. It's incredibly stressful and daunting. Our last two pregnancies did not come easy for us. And while we're not over the hill, we no spring chickens either. If we get pregnant soon, assuming the pregnancy is healthy and I don't miscarry again, I'll be 34 when baby comes. If it takes a while to get knocked up, I'll be 35. I know a few months here or there don't make a huge difference, but being 35 earns you the label "advanced maternal age." I'd prefer to avoid that. I know I'm probably over-analyzing and over-thinking everything. But that's just what I do. I don't know how else to "be."

I really suck at writing. I never know how to end these posts. So I guess I'll just end it with the video for song that I've been listening to a lot lately. It's "Let Her Go" by Passenger.

Numb

That's what I am...the vast majority of the time. Even my skin feels numb...at least until someone touches it and then it feels like it's crawling.

I'm not sleeping well, so my doctor put me off work til November 25th.

I'm not eating well either. I feel no hunger or thirst. Even after all day. At least the morning sickness has gone now (that took 2 weeks).

I feel like I'm biding my time til genetics comes back. Not sure if we'll find out any more info or not. I'd love to hear that this was a 1 in a million freak occurrance, but I have a feeling we won't get such reassurance. Sometimes I feel like I really want to know the sex of the baby, and other times I'm not sure I could handle knowing.

I want to get a memory box or shadow box or something. We don't have much at all from this baby. Just our announcement picture, a bazillion pee sticks, the ultrasound picture, and a card a friend sent us. That's all we have to remind us of this little life that we had with us for 3 months.

One good thing has come of this anyways...I started a local Pregnancy and Infant Loss Group on Facebook. My hopes for it is 2-fold....to provide support to parents going through a loss, and also to try to effect change in how NL health authorities care for parents going through a loss. I know that second one is a lofty goal and it might take years, but I've got time.