Day 3

As strange as it is to think of, the most surprising thing in this is how caught by surprise we were.  We were surprised at each step of the process, and continued to be surprised by how everything is unfolding.

We were surprised when we were at the ultrasound.  Mika’s other two pregnancies, while having their difficulties, were really quite remarkable in how well they went.  I always worried before the ultrasound, usually about things like whether the baby had all ten fingers and toes.  Despite my worries, I never actually expected anything to be wrong.  During the ultrasound this time, I noticed that the sonographer kept mentioning how hard it was to look at certain things in the baby, even though in previous pregnancies he was able to see these things fairly easily.  I shouldn’t have been surprised when he was eventually concerned at the low levels of fluid, but I was.

We were surprised by the meeting with the OB.  I fully expected that the meeting with the OB would be a fairly simple affair where they told us that things were serious, but that there was a chance of things being OK.  However, as Mika later pointed out, they don’t schedule things so quickly when everything is OK.  I was surprised when Mika told me about how all of the major causes of low amniotic fluid usually result in the infant’s death.

We were surprised by the meeting with the perinatologist.  I, perhaps foolishly, assumed that the meeting with the perinatologist was just a precaution.  That we would get a stern warning about the dangers of low fluid levels, and that Mika would be put on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy.  After the first ultrasound, Mika sent me an email that they were having trouble finding the baby’s kidneys.  Even then, I was surprised when she showed up in my office  in tears.  I was shocked when she told me that not only was our tiny baby, the one who I had felt kick and move, was sick; but the baby was so sick that it would not live.  So sick that there was not a single thing we could do.  So sick, that the doctor’s used phrases like “the baby’s condition is non-compatible with life inside or outside the womb.”

I was surprised at how devastated I was.  I had always heard growing up that parents love their children equally.  I never understood this.  I understood it a little bit better when I fell in love with Mika, and there just seemed to be more room for love in my heart.  Even then, I worried when we were pregnant with Evan, that somehow having a child would result in a entropic transfer of love from Mika to Evan, where there was ultimately less love than there was before.  Again, I was pleasantly surprised when it seemed that my capacity for love grew upon Evan’s birth, and again at June’s birth.

However, with both Evan and June, I only noticed the love when they were born.  I remember feeling the swelling that my heart had grown when I first saw them.  I assumed that it was their birth that led directly to the increase in love.  When Mika told me that there was little chance our baby would be born alive, I was surprised to find how much I already loved the baby.  I was already to love this child that I had never met.  It was like finding out that there was a hole in a place in my heart that I didn’t even know was there.  I am left wondering: how am I supposed to fill a hole I didn’t know was empty in the first place?

Day 2

I hope no one is offended if I haven’t gotten in touch directly with an update. Writing is a lot easier for me, and a blog post is a lot faster than many phone calls and texts.

Jarom had meetings this morning, so I went to see the perinatologist alone. The sonographer was really nice and tried to ease my worries when I first went in. She said there’s no specific fluid level they need at this point and a “low fluid level” diagnosis is fairly subjective. I appreciated that she explained everything she was looking at and made it easy for me to see what she was doing. As time went on, though, she said less and less. Eventually she said she wanted the specialist to come in and take a look because she had some concerns.

The specialist introduced himself and then was silent for the next 15 minutes as he looked very, very hard for any indication that the baby’s kidneys were working. After that long, though, I was pretty sure that no good news was coming. I lost it when he told me that the baby’s kidneys hadn’t developed, and that as a result, several problems ensued, primarily the lungs failing to develop.

There is nothing that we can do. Without functioning kidneys and lungs, the baby won’t survive.

As you can imagine, it’s heartbreaking news to hear. We’ve been given several options but aren’t sure yet what we want to do next. Right now, we’re trying to love our family more and more.

Please ask any questions you have. Writing and talking about this is really helpful for me, so don’t feel like you need to avoid the topic.

I can safely say, thus far in my life, this is the worst day I’ve ever had. What’s especially awful is knowing that a worse day will come soon.

:(

Day 1

I had intended to write about my awesome date with Evan, but the past few days just haven’t gone as planned. Evan got sick not long after we got home on Friday, and then June got the bug too in the middle of that night. The weekend was mostly filled with sick, slightly disgusting kids and lots of laundry.

Today was my 20-week ultrasound. The equipment they use has been updated since I had Evan and June – the sonographer said it’s only about 6 weeks old, and it was so fancy! We were able to see a lot more detail. The brain, heart, and most major organs looked good, but the baby was curled up face-down and the sonographer had a hard time getting a good look at several parts. He asked me if I’ve felt bigger or smaller this pregnancy – I mentioned before that I haven’t gained any weight and I don’t look pregnant, so this is much smaller than before. When he measured my fluid levels, he said they were really low. It’s measured in the distance between the placenta and the baby at several places, and at this stage of pregnancy, a healthy level is anywhere between 8 cm and 25 cm. My fluid level was 3.8 cm, which explains why (1) I’ve been small this pregnancy and (2) he had such a hard time seeing things properly (including the gender – so I still don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl).

He talked a little bit about how the doctor would want to monitor my levels, and I should meet with them this week. He stepped out to talk to the doctor and they decided I’d meet with the doctor today and an perinatologist tomorrow morning. It was a little worrisome – okay, a lot worrisome – how quickly they were getting these appointments set up. Jarom and I went home, picked up the kids, had lunch, and I headed back to the doctor’s office while Jarom stayed home from work to watch the kids.

Honestly, I expected that the doctor would say something along the lines of, “This is something that happens, here’s how we fix it, you really shouldn’t worry too much about it.” Instead he gave me a very sensitively phrased explanation of the bad things that can happen with low amniotic fluid levels at this point in pregnancy. He talked about common causes, like ruptured membranes (which is tentatively ruled out, since I’d more than likely have noticed something like that), defective or nonexistent kidneys in the baby (the ultrasound wasn’t completely clear on the kidneys), or an improperly formed placenta that doesn’t provide enough nutrients for the baby. In all of these cases, the scenario was that the baby won’t survive, unless it’s ruptured membranes and I can make it to 24 weeks, at which point I’d be induced and they’d do their best to help the baby.

Another possibility is that today’s low fluid level was a fluke, and things will look fine tomorrow, but he made it clear that’s a best-case scenario and my ongoing small bump and lack of weight gain don’t make it the most likely scenario.

Tomorrow morning I’ll meet with the perinatologist, who can talk about some of the less common causes of low fluids, and who will do another ultrasound. I suppose having some sort of answer or game plan will help me feel better. In the meantime, we’re hoping for the best but preparing ourselves in case we do lose the baby. Jarom has put me on unofficial bedrest for the evening – not dealing with getting the kids to bed was pretty nice! – and I’m drinking oodles of water, just in case that makes a difference. Fingers crossed, I may just get put on bedrest for a while and the fluid level will go up.

I’ll post an update tomorrow.