Friday, May 27, 2016

Sonosalinehystogram-cd 10

I had to go back to the RE today for my sonosalinehystogram. This is similar to HSG where they run saline through your tubes to see if the uterus and tubes are clear of tissue damage. Mine were. They wet ahead and checked follies and lining while in there. I have two follies on my left-what I consider the bad side at 20 mm and my lining was a 8-9. Nothing on my right side. NP said I look like I'll ovulate soon. I'm not hopeful between them on my left side and doing TI instead of IUI. But, of course I'll use OPKs and try anyway, because why not?

I'm feeling discouraged and down, especially since the ankle injury. Just feeling like I can't get ahead and what if I'd still been preg with Ivy and fell down the stairs. I don't know. Is the universe telling me no? Am I ever going to have another living child or was Katie really my one in a million?

Getting through Chase's first anniversary

I wanted a day similar to the one I had with Emma.  A day where I remembered him, took a picture with his bear, and kept his memory close with me. I knew fewer people would check in with me.  It's exhausting and emotionally draining and difficult for me to go through this two days in a row, much less people given a choice.  I have my community who lights candles in memory and does check in on me, but I knew there would be less of them yesterday and there was.  Even in birth, many people saw Emma, but only 3 people (aside hospital staff) ever saw Chase due to the horrific storm.

What I didn't expect was right after posting my blog post yesterday morning and heading downstairs to get dressed for work that I would fall down the stairs and hurt myself BAD.  I couldn't walk or put pressure on my left ankle.  The rest of me was not harmed.  I had an immediate panic attack that I was going to have to go to a medical setting, yesterday of all days.  I was frozen and crying.  I yelled for my husband to help me and he got me to the couch to look at the injury.  I texted pics to my sister, an RN, who told me that it was probably broken. My ankle was swollen to the size of a tennis ball. Either way, getting medical attention wasn't optional.  I called my mom to explain what happened so she'd understand why DH's car was here and the state of everything.  I took an anxiety med because yeah, not okay.

We first went to my PCP, I really couldn't handle an ER setting if I could avoid it.  I wanted least to most, physician wise.  My PCP said there was nothing they could do and no one they could recommend.  Honestly, I'm over the PCP.  Finding a new one this summer. I tried the minor emergency clinic next.  DH checked with them that they could help before getting me out of the car.  Everyone, including the staff there, was shocked to find that it was not broken, but very badly sprained.  They gave me pain meds and after the x-ray showed the sprains, bandaged me up in a temp cast and splint.

My last day of work is supposed to be today.  It was all playing again, the tapes. Medical setting, injury, end of the school year.  I was determined to make it to my work evaluation.  I had DH drop me off at one of my buildings. He helped me get to my office and once staff saw me come in with crutches, they got a wheel chair to get me to my office because I'm upstairs. DH left and I just broke down and cried ugly, ugly tears.  The amount of self pity I felt, the amount of hurt over Chase, over this, over the fact that I swear I can't ever climb out of anything.  I feel like life knocks me down time and time again. I'm not going to lie, I was full of self-pity.  It's not often I got into "poor me", in fact I despise when I do it.  I feel like a disgusting human being.  How dare I feel sorry for myself, but I did.

A coworker came some time later. She helped get me to the admin building for my evaluation.  It's this same sweet person who sat with me the anniversary of Emma.  Who's been there for me countless of times this past year.  I don't even know if this person knows how much I love her and what she means to me.

Anyways, I'm not going to go through the story of what it took for me to even get to said evaluation.  It's upstairs, no wheel chair, and where I needed to go was not near the elevator and it involved a lot of people trying to get me moved on a chair with wheels that didn't move well.  Eval was okay and I was told to turn in my laptop while I was there and call it a year.  No penalty for not coming today.  That was really appreciated because it started storming very badly again last night and now this morning.  One district is already closed.  I don't think mine will be because we're the only one who's last day is today and staff need to do check out procedures and get last minute stuff done.

After my co-worker took me home and my mom left, I felt sorry for myself again.  I couldn't light Chase's candle.  DH would have to do that.  DH and I grieve differently.  I was bitter, and self-loathing, I wanted to just disappear and die (not suicidal, just very, very down).  I fell literally in the morning and by the afternoon I'd fallen figuratively too.  I was not a good mom to Katie.  I let DH do all that, while I off and on cried.  He lit Chase's candle for me and took a picture.  I couldn't get the selfie I wanted with his bear, but he did get me the bears before bed so I could sleep with them.  I took something for sleep.

I did get myself centered that night when DH took Katie for her bath and bed.  I'd gotten myself a book just for me and I colored the opening page.  It's a healing book for grief and yesterday was the perfect day to start something in it. I calmed down as I colored and cried a bit.  I went to bed after finishing the page and maybe I'll do more later.

My children were united in life and now are united beyond. I am honored to be the mom of these beautiful children, Emma and Chase. They will always be in my heart (along with their little brother Ivy) until the day we unite.  To everyone who's read, commented, reached out to me in this past year and have supported me, even when I was really down and felt like I'd never, ever get back up again, thank you.  To everyone who lets me say their names, thank you.  The greatest gift I can get is to share my amazing children.

Thursday, May 26, 2016

May 26, 2015 Chase is born

A year ago today at 6:05 am at 19w0d, Chase David Naylor, was born sleeping.He weighed 7.2 oz and was 8.25 inches long. He was handsome and perfect. Not a moment or day goes by that I don't miss him. He and his sister have changed my life forever.

The night Emma was born another rainstorm started.  The storm was so bad that roads were shut down and school districts were closed the next day.  A good friend of mine stopped by that night to visit me, the rain started while she was there and it was too dangerous for her to drive back home.  She spent the night with me.

DH was already gone because he had to take care of Katie. I was stable the entire day and continued to believe and tell myself that Chase would beat the odds, that I would fight the infection and then come home with him and while we'd never, ever forget or miss his sister, he would stay here with me.

Nurses checked on me often and I was constantly monitored.  I called nurses a few times saying I was having a lot of contractions.  They'd check the doppler every now and then and always there he was with a heartbeat.  He dropped after Emma left room for him, but he was okay. I slept off and on that night, never very much, always praying that he really would make it.  I would have some rounds of contractions that would scare me, then they'd go away.

28 hours after Emma was born, at 6:00 am I was typing an email to work.  Everything seemed calm and still.  I wasn't having contractions, things seemed stable.  Suddenly my water broke and I screamed, I'm not sure what all my words were except something to the effect of he's dead, he's dead, please someone help.  He's here.  I was still dilated from delivering Emma, when my water broke, he simple came out.  His birth was a lot less painful and much quicker than his sister.

My OB happened to be right outside the room and ran in to deliver him.  I was screaming and crying and telling him to just let me die.  My friend grabbed my phone and ran out of the room once I screamed my water broke to call DH.  At that point any hope I had was gone.  I'd delivered my second sleeping baby and now both were gone.  Due to the storm and road blocks, traffic lights out, etc.  It took a bit for DH to get to me.  He also had to call my mom, but she lives just a few min. from me.

My FIL walked in and started talking about trying again and I was horrified.  At the time I vowed never, ever to be pregnant again.  My words when he walked in were, I killed the other one too.  He tried to tell me not to say that, but I wasn't having any of that.  For anyone who might read this who remembers a year ago and how I was after, you know that I carried the full guilt of their deaths with me every minute of every day.

After I found out Emma's gender I needed to know "Baby B", aka Chase. I messaged a friend of mine, the one who was doing the balloons I was supposed to pic up on Memorial Day, the day of the reveal, and what became the day Emma was born.  That's how I found out Chase was a boy.

I remained stable after Chase was born.  It took them a long time to get the placentas out and they had to make sure.  I spent the day Chase was born holding him, like his sister.  It was just DH and I because the weather was too dangerous for anyone else to make it.  We tried getting the same pics and poses as we did for Emma, but it was hard since we were both broken.  With Emma a friend did them so her pictures are better.  I wish I had better pics of Chase.  Like his sister, when it was time to say goodbye we sang "Soft Kitty" and handed him to the nurse.  I remained in the hospital another full day. I went home on the 28th mid-morning.  I wasn't healthy enough to go home, but my mental state was not good and the doctor was worried that my mental health would deter my physical health, so I was allowed to go.

One of the hardest parts of all this is that I have two full days of each child.  I never got to have them together in my arms.  Emma came and then him.  I had to get through yesterday and now I do it again today.

Getting through Emma's first anniversary

I'm not going to lie.  Yesterday was a hard day.  A very hard day.  I never did go back to sleep and the chest pain didn't go away either and only continued to get worse through the day.  A friend said it sounded like anxiety and I knew she was right. I didn't want to take anything, I wanted to feel all the pain.  I know even though I've mostly learned to forgive myself, I haven't completely, I know I still feel responsible on some level.  I know it was an attempt to punish myself.  I am alive, they are not.  However, I went ahead and took an anxiety med because I knew in my head I had to try and take care of myself, that I have to get through this.

The pain got better within in an hour of taking it and I didn't need another one the rest of the day.  It did start to hurt again, but by then I had my therapy appointment coming up and finally time to myself.  I had to work yesterday and do again today.  It's okay because my crying upsets Katie.  A co-worker who I consider a wonderful friend of mine came to one of my buildings with some lunch and was just with me.  I don't know if she knows how much that means to me, or maybe she does.  She's one of the very limited IRL people who know of this blog.  Most people do not, most are people I've met in various online communities.

I got home and there was a rush to get to therapy.  DH was working late, which put me at a bind for someone to watch Kate.  I found someone and then David said he was on his way.  A friend had sent something she knew arrived, but I didn't see it.  It turned out to be two caterpillars and 7 butterflies.  The butterflies were to be released and the caterpillars to watch grow.

I went to my appointment and I was nervous about sharing with her, especially the images of my twins.  She seemed really glad to see them and kept thanking me for sharing my babies with her.  She said she felt holy being in the presence of their memories of the tangible items I had of them.  I brought pictures of the pregnancy announcement, their ultrasound photos, pics of them after they were born, and a few others like a Mother's Day photo, a pic of Katie holding the bears on their due date.  I also brought their hospital certificates, death certificates, and my bears. It was a nice appointment and I struggled the more it went on, because these are my children and I wanted more and instead this is all I have.  I know I'm grateful to even have this much, it's more than I have with Ivy, although I do have one ultrasound of Ivy.

I came home and we released butterflies. We got Katie to bed and since DH and I grieve very, very differently, he went to play a game.  I poured myself some wine, sat outside in the backyard listening to the windchimes that bare their a name, given to me last year by a friend, and cried.  I let all my emotion, my love, my grief, the gratitude for the texts, messages, candles, gifts, and everything else given to me in remembrance of my babies.  I just let myself feel everything and cry.  I even closed my eyes and just let myself be with my emotions.  My chest didn't hurt after and I did take something to help me sleep because I've gone too many days without it and I know it's going to affect me and I still have to make it through today.  I have to go through two days of this every year, but I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.  I have no regrets that I am their mom. I love them with all my heart.

I took my bears to bed with me and snuggled them through the night.  Another day begins.  The one where I remember my Chase.

Wednesday, May 25, 2016

May 25, 2015 Emma is born

A year ago today at 2:15 am at 18w6d, Emma Lee Naylor, was born sleeping. She weighed 9.3 oz and was 9 inches long. She was beautiful and perfect. Not a moment or day goes by that I don't miss her. She and her brother changed my life forever.

A few hours after I was admitted to the room, David had to go. We were trying to keep Katie's schedule as normal as we could throughout all this since she was only 17 months old and too young to understand or know what was going on. She has a set bedtime routine, plus he needed to feed our cats and my mom had to tend to her pets as well. My contractions from the morning that led me to the ER never stopped. As the day wore on, they increased in intensity and as night came I knew I was in labor.  I called David right around the time I was sure I was going to give birth soon.  He called his family to get someone at the house since Katie was sleeping.

Things are hazy after she was born. I went from stable to very much not.  I lost a lot more blood than they thought and my infection got worse.  I was offered the option of ending both pregnancies after Emma's fate and my infection were determined, but knowing Chase had a chance, albeit how small, I refused.  I lost that option after she was born. I remember a lot of medical staff in my room when it had just been my amazing nurse and me prior to that. My doctor was yelling things, I was barely conscious. They were trying to get an epidural in me because they were going to end the rest of the pregnancy since at that point I was actively dying.  I tried to tell them no, but I couldn't really talk.  They also couldn't get the epidural in me because I was too weak and unstable.  I remember them wheeling my bed very fast around the hospital.  I think they were taking me to the operation room and planning on giving me general anesthesia.  I honestly don't know because I couldn't really ask, I was trying to feel better and somehow I ended up stabilizing a bit.  I'm not sure what I said, but they took me to a room where they took my vitals again and after a few min. reattempted the epidural.  This time I was stable enough to take it.  They had heavy doses of antibiotics going in me.  They asked me if I wanted Chase out or in.  They said they were limited on what they could do to give me if I chose to continue carrying Chase.  The epidural was in, but no medicine was started at this time.  It was "just in case" I needed to go to the OR.  I told them I wanted to continue carrying as long as I could.  I was told the choice was mine as long as I was stable. If that changed, so did my options.

They did an ultrasound and I saw him.  He was beating in the 160s and very much alive and seemingly doing fine.  I was having a lot of contractions, but they would calm down and then start up.  I kept praying that he'd be okay, that Chase would make it.  I told myself he would, after all, he was a namesake, he was my Chase, he would be born alive.

I spent the day very weird.  I held my beautiful daughter, it gave me some peace to hold her and have him in me, at least during those hours. In my mind they were still together and I had all my children. I was very, very sick. I had a few people come visit me and I offered anyone who walked in the chance to hold Emma if they wanted.  I was just as proud of her, as I was of Katie.  I didn't care that I was only holding her body, I wanted everyone to meet my sweet girl.  I held her every moment I could, looked at her sweet face, and listened as the doctor told me there was a 90% chance her brother would come in the next 48 hours as I told her and everyone in the room that he was going to make it, he already beat the 97% odds he'd be born along his sister.  He was born 28 hours after her.

Emma looked almost identical to Katie.  It was surreal to see the resemblance. My pictures of Emma are better because a friend took them for us.  She drove down 4 hours just to see me and helped get the pictures of Emma.  May 25, 2015 was Memorial Day and was supposed to be the day of my gender reveal.  We had her most of the day and when it was time to say goodbye, we sang Soft Kitty, and handed her to the nurse.

The PTSD intensified yesterday as the day wore on.  I had two people primarily trying to message me and I couldn't respond much beyond a word or two answering their question.  My chest hurt pretty bad on the way home from work and when I first got home.  I had trouble breathing too.  I felt like I was suffocating.  David was working late, so it was just Katie and I for a while.  As I watched her play I started to cry.  She noticed and started imitating me and saying "mama cry" and looking at me and then trying to smile to cheer me up.  Then she repeated it as I started crying again. I gave her a hug and got her engaged in another toy.  Went into my bedroom (next to the living room where she was), layed on my bed and cried and cried and cried while clutching the bear in Emma's first photo.  That bear was given to me by my nurse.  I put the baby bracelet of each child on that bear and have never taken them off.  I sleep with this bear every night since then. After crying, more of myself came back and stayed the rest of the night.

I woke up at 2:00 am today.  I knew I'd wake up in time for Emma's birth. My chest hurts so bad right now.  I miss my children, I miss them so much.

Tuesday, May 24, 2016

State of Mind

I'm pretty sure PTSD is hitting me right now.  It's hard to explain.  I'm trapped inside myself.  I've had a few people check in on me and all I can say is I'm ok.  I don't offer details, explanations, etc.  People haven't been pushing.  I find myself retreating and hiding, physically and figuratively.  I can't engage right now.  I don't know how. I perceive danger everywhere.  Danger from what?  I don't know.  I'm just trapped inside myself and I can't explain it to anyone.

I couldn't go to a lunch today at work.  Not with people who know what this week is, what tomorrow is.  I do okay with people who don't know or people I know who won't ask me.  I'm contradictory, because I want to tell people, but I can't. I'm trapped.  I can't explain it. I went to a building I thought I could be at for work, but I saw the stuff of coworkers and knew they'd be back after lunch.  I had sudden panic, like fear for my life, and had to get out and leave.  I went to another building where no one is and I'm working from there.  I feel safer, it's hard to explain.  My fear is not rational, I know this.  I'm trying to breathe, trying to remind myself it's okay, trying to stay in the present, in the here, and the now.

May 24, 2015

I think I spent half of yesterday crying.  I crying while writing my blog post, I cried after, I cried at home when talking to David.  I cried and cried.

My therapy session went well.  I didn't cry there.  I don't cry easily in front of others. We talked about how I'm doing, how hard this is.  I asked if I could bring some pics and things tomorrow and she said she'd like for me to do that.  I have a box of hospital things I'm bringing, like their clothes, and then I'm printing off some pics of them when they were born and I have their ultrasound photos too.

May 24, 2015

I had so much to do for the reveal still.  I spent Saturday mostly resting.  I stayed in bed and DHgot Katie up and dressed.  He asked me if I wanted him to take her out for a bit so I could focus on getting things ready.  I said yes.  He took her to a jump place.

I was putting favors together since I could stay in bed and didn't have to move much. The pressure was horrible when I was walking.  I didn't feel well and even though I was in bed and not moving much I kept having contractions.  I downloaded a contraction app and after an hour I realized I had 18 contractions.  I also had a fever of 101 at this point-with Tylenol to try and calm down my uterus.

I called the on-call OB who was mine and he said go to the ER and he'd meet me since he was at the hospital.  I got everything organized since I knew DH and Katie would be back soon. When he got back I told him we had to go to the ER, something was up.  I was also still spotting pink.  I called my mom to please come watch Katie.  She came right over and made a joke about me going to the ER every time I had a gender reveal (I did this with Katie and I had a low lying placenta.  I was bleeding bright red the day of her reveal) and that I needed to get back home since I had a lot to do.

I went to the ER and explained I was 18w5d pregnant with twins and not doing so well.  They took all the blood, got me into a bed, and otherwise the wait was endless.  I kept having contractions and I was feeling worse.  No monitoring because I was under 20 weeks.  In the medical community no one gives a rats ass if your baby lives or dies if you're under 20 weeks.  They can't do anything anyways, so they don't treat it with importance.  They're in a big hurry to do all the genetic testing though, go figure.

As I sat there waiting my water broke.  I screamed.  I started crying and I told DH it was over, babies cannot survive if water is broken.  I had no idea if one or both had broken.  My water broke with Katie, so I was very familiar with it. With each contraction, more fluid came.  Your body continues to produce fluid even if your water breaks.  David ran out to alert a nurse while I kept crying and screaming that my twins were dead.

I was taken in for ultrasound and I saw them both.  Their hearts were strong in the 160s.  They both looked okay and for a min, just a min, I let myself believe it was going to end up okay.  I knew my pregnancy had changed, but I thought they are BOTH alive, strong hearts, it's going to be okay.

I was wrong.

My doctor finally came in and apologized, but said he wanted all the information before seeing me.  At this time they had both the u/s and the blood test results.  He told me baby A's (Emma) water was broken and that she was going to be born in the next 24 hours and she would be dead.  That there was nothing we could do.  DH fell to the floor crying and begging.  I asked is there anything to save the baby, she was alive, her heart was strong, she looked good. He said no.  Once the water breaks that's it.  He also said I had a severe infection in my body and they were concerned for my life at this point.  He said I would possibly need a transfusion, but that I was very, very sick and my health came before theirs, especially at their gestation.

DH went to go call my mom and his parents with an update while they were getting me settled. My mom had went to the cake in the fridge and took out the envelope to see the gender of Baby A.  I didn't know yet. She told DH.  DH came to me to see how I was doing.  Both of us grief stricken and in shock.  How did I wake up to planning a gender reveal to going to a room to wait for one of my babies to be born dead?  He told me baby A was a girl.  I knew she was my Emma Lee. (We had talked about names, we were firm on b/g twins, I had g/g names I liked, although David only liked Emma Lee at the time, we were conflicted on b/b names).

They found me a room, away from people.  A room be plugged into medicine to keep me alive and try to get rid of the infection.  A room to lie in alone while waiting for my daughter to be born dead.  I saw her one more time on ultrasound.  She was perfect and alive.