I know don't have to tell any of you that Mother's Day is coming up -- or why it hurts so much. It's a reminder of everything that I am not, the one thing my life lacks (the most important thing, or so the message goes that's drummed into my head). I do not have (living) children; ergo (in the eyes of the world, at least), I am not a mother. Therefore, none of the adulation and adoration given to mothers & motherhood on this day (& the infinite weeks leading up to it) applies to me. (I envision the Seinfeld Soup Nazi: timidly approaching the counter, only to be told, "No soup for you!!") I am an adult woman who is not a mother -- meaning that, in this baby and pregnancy-crazed society, despite all the other things I am and have accomplished in my life, I don't count for very much in the grand scheme of things. And most certainly not on Mother's Day.
Of course, the industry behind MDay as a holiday ( = excuse/pressure to spend money on the perfect gift for Mom) has been in full swing since, oh, about two minutes after the Easter promotional stuff got packed away (as I noted in a previous post). With less than two weeks to go before The Big Day, the scrapbooking message boards that I frequent are starting to buzz with posts about what to make/give for moms & grandmothers, what they are doing and, of course, what they are hoping their kids/husbands will give them.
I've been on (non-IF) boards in the past where any posters who dared to bring forward the idea that Mother's Day could be a source of pain for for women who aren't mothers were quickly dismissed -- even attacked. (How dare we infertile women try to make mommies feel guilty about enjoying their precious children on a day that's supposed to be celebrating them??) I can remember one woman (a mother, of course) saying that really, we shouldn't fret so much, because isn't Mother's Day really a celebration of ALL women? Ummm, yeah, right, sure... (that's why they named it Mother's Day instead of Women's Day).
Interestingly, Wikipedia says that Mother's Day was originally conceived after the American Civil War as a way to unite women -- bereaved mothers -- against war, and for peace and disarmament. The first national Mother's Day was declared in 1914 by U.S. President Woodrow Wilson, as a day for American citizens to show the flag in honor of those mothers whose sons had died in the First World War. Within a few years, commercialization of the U.S. holiday became so rampant that Anna Jarvis, the woman who had pressed for recognition of such a holiday, became a major opponent of what the holiday had become.)
Before I got pregnant 10 years ago, I don't remember having a lot of angst over Mother's Day, even as we ttc-d unsuccessfully for a few years. Dh's mom died in 1982 before I ever met her; we've generally left it to stepMIL's kids to celebrate her on MDay; and my mom lives a two-hour plane ride & one-hour drive away. I send a card & make a phone call & she's happy. So we've been "fortunate" in that we've never had any family obligations to endure on that day -- we've always been free to do our own thing. Perhaps we felt a little at loose ends, as we sometimes do on other family-focused holidays, but there was always the unspoken promise that someday, we would be able to create our own celebrations with our own little family.
I'm getting ahead of myself in the 1998 memories posts here, and I don't remember all the details that vividly anymore, but I do remember MDay 1998 was full of happy anticipation. I was about three months pregnant & just newly out of the closet about my pregnancy, so to speak. (After some pointed hints from me) Dh gave me a card & a Boyd's Bears figurine of a pregnant mama bear, called Momma McBear. We'd started giving each other Boyd's Bears figurines as gifts & I absolutely loved this one. I put it on the night table on my side of the bed. After we lost Katie & started ttc again, & then turned to fertility treatments, the pregnant teddy bear became a sort of fertility totem for me. Every night, before turning out the lights, I would rub her pregnant belly. I still do (force of habit), even though I no longer expect results. I figure it hasn't worked so far, so now I rub as a sort of birth control, lol. Maybe once I finally hit menopause, I'll stop.
Anyway, I can remember dh & I talking about how next year there would be THREE of us, and how great would that be?? I envisioned the three of us attending church (with baby in the stroller, dressed to the nines in Baby Gap, of course) & then going for brunch together. As a family. OUR family.
Of course, the reality of Mother's Day 1999, post-stillbirth, was much, much different than I could have imagined or planned for. We skipped church that day, went to the cemetery & then went to a movie.
Over the years, we did try to attend church on Mother's Day. We'd joined a local Anglican (Episcopalian) congregation around the time we began ttc. I was brought up Anglican, and although I'd rarely attended church since I was a teenager (more out of sheer laziness than any disbelief), whenever I did attend church, I still found a certain comfort in the familiar rituals & hymns from my childhood, some of which I could still recite or sing from memory without consulting the prayer or hymn book. We knew we wanted our children to be baptized and learn something about God and the Bible -- & we knew, from our experience in planning our wedding, that many congregations will not perform these rituals unless you have been attending their church regularly for some time. In the days following Katie's stillbirth, the church was a source of comfort & support to us.
Any spiritual comfort I normally felt in church, however, was vastly outweighed by pain on Mother's Day. Invariably, the minister would ask all the mothers, grandmothers and great-grandmothers to stand & be acknowledged. What a dilemma. Do I sit? And act as though my child never existed, deny my motherhood? Do I stand? And invite questions about where my child(ren) is/are?
Midway through the service, the Sunday school children would be brought upstairs to share in the communion with their families. They would troop in, beaming with excitement, breaking into a run when they spotted their parents in the pews, as the congregation sang a hymn I knew by heart from childhood. The combination of the familiar words (tinged with a new poignancy, post-loss) & their little faces would always reduce me to tears:
When He cometh, when He cometh
To make up His jewels,
All His jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and His own.
Like the stars of the morning,
His bright crown adorning,
They shall shine in their beauty,
Bright gems for His crown.
He will gather, He will gather
The gems for His kingdom:
All the pure ones, all the bright ones,
His loved and His own.
Like the stars of the morning,
His bright crown adorning,
They shall shine in their beauty,
Bright gems for His crown.
Little children, little children,
Who love their Redeemer,
Are the jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and His own.
Like the stars of the morning,
His bright crown adorning,
They shall shine in their beauty,
Bright gems for His crown.
("And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels; and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him." -- Malachi 3:17)
One year, I was startled when the parishoner leading the intercessory prayers asked the congregation to pray for those who had lost their mothers… or mothers who had lost children… or those who wished to be mothers, but were not. "Let us remember that we are called to be a healing community," he said. Well, that was very nice. But two lines out of an hour-plus service? Still not quite enough to make me want to stay.
Likewise, at the time, our habit was to go out for Sunday brunch after church... but that too became a rather painful exercise on Mother's Day, being surrounded by happy families & excited children, often multiple generations. I remember one particular Mother's Day brunch (probably the last time we attempted it), being acutely aware of the family at the table next to ours. When we sat down, it was just an older couple sitting at a large table with several empty places, but they were soon joined by a younger couple, with a little girl, about the same age Katie would have been, who ran up to the older woman (obviously Grandma) excitedly waving a gift bag. Ouch.
So, over time, our Mday strategy has evolved. In a word, it's "avoidance." We go out for dinner as usual on Saturday night, but I get to pick. Sunday morning, dh gives me a card (usually "from" Katie). We go the cemetery, & then to a movie (preferably something more adult-oriented), or maybe just home to laze around. And sometimes he will take me to a couple of scrapbook stores where I can indulge in some retail therapy. ; ) Scrapbooking, of course, is about as mommy-related as you can get, but the stores are usually relatively empty that day, since everyone is at home celebrating with their families.
And I breathe a sigh of relief when it's over & done with for another year.
I wish all of you at least some measure of peace & comfort, on MDay & always.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Monday, April 27th, 1998: The secret is out
On Monday, April 27th, I donned my new maternity clothes to wear to work for the first time: my new navy floral palazzo pants, & the ivory Shirley K blouse I had bought when my mother visited the previous month.
At that time, I had been with my department for almost 12 years. I was sharing a cubbyhole in the back corner of our office with my office best friend & confidante -- an older, childless woman I'd worked with for the past 7 years. She was already at the office when I arrived (we actually took the subway one stop up from the commuter train station all that week as a precautionary measure), & I took off my coat & gave her a little "ta da!" flourish. "Ah ha," she said with a smile. (I rather think she suspected, since I had recently switched from my usual tea to drinking herbal tea or juice during our daily morning coffee break together.)
Next, I presented myself with the same "ta-da" flourish to my boss (another slightly older childless woman), & explained that this was why I had called in "sick" on Friday morning. She grinned, asked me when I was due, & shepherded me into the office of our senior manager. "Look at Lori!" she said with abig grin. I did my little "ta-da" flourish, the senior manager did a double take, then burst out laughing & congratulated me. Our assistant (yet another older, childless woman) arrived & I said, "Guess what?" She gave me a sharp look & said, "No, I want to hear you say it!" "I'm PREGNANT!" I sang out & she threw her arms around me & hugged me & said how wonderful it was to finally hear that from me.
I've saved my datebook from the office for 1998, & recently pulled it out to look at it again. I only remember directly telling those four women -- the people I worked with the closest, and had for several years now -- but I had forgotten until now about how quickly the news spread: on the page for that date, I jotted down the names of 11 (!) people from other areas of the department who dropped by my office that day to congratulate me -- plus another four the next day, & several more in the days after that. At that time, I belonged to a lunch hour Toastmasters club, & I managed to turn my one-minute Table Topic of the day into a pregnancy announcement there too.
So my secret was finally out!
At that time, I had been with my department for almost 12 years. I was sharing a cubbyhole in the back corner of our office with my office best friend & confidante -- an older, childless woman I'd worked with for the past 7 years. She was already at the office when I arrived (we actually took the subway one stop up from the commuter train station all that week as a precautionary measure), & I took off my coat & gave her a little "ta da!" flourish. "Ah ha," she said with a smile. (I rather think she suspected, since I had recently switched from my usual tea to drinking herbal tea or juice during our daily morning coffee break together.)
Next, I presented myself with the same "ta-da" flourish to my boss (another slightly older childless woman), & explained that this was why I had called in "sick" on Friday morning. She grinned, asked me when I was due, & shepherded me into the office of our senior manager. "Look at Lori!" she said with abig grin. I did my little "ta-da" flourish, the senior manager did a double take, then burst out laughing & congratulated me. Our assistant (yet another older, childless woman) arrived & I said, "Guess what?" She gave me a sharp look & said, "No, I want to hear you say it!" "I'm PREGNANT!" I sang out & she threw her arms around me & hugged me & said how wonderful it was to finally hear that from me.
I've saved my datebook from the office for 1998, & recently pulled it out to look at it again. I only remember directly telling those four women -- the people I worked with the closest, and had for several years now -- but I had forgotten until now about how quickly the news spread: on the page for that date, I jotted down the names of 11 (!) people from other areas of the department who dropped by my office that day to congratulate me -- plus another four the next day, & several more in the days after that. At that time, I belonged to a lunch hour Toastmasters club, & I managed to turn my one-minute Table Topic of the day into a pregnancy announcement there too.
So my secret was finally out!
My delightful weekend: Pregnancy news (not mine) & potential root canals
It's been an up & down weekend. On the bright side, the weather has been quite nice, the house is clean, we had a nice dinner out last night.
On the other hand -- I spent all day yesterday cleaning & doing laundry. Dh is doing his taxes (our deadline in Canada is April 30th. He did mine last week, & I'm getting a big fat $17.75 back, woohoo!!).
And I'm getting that "everyone in the world is pregnant except me" feeling again & it's not nice. We spent last evening at FIL's with BIL & family. FIL & stepMIL are redoing & expanding their back patio with interlock brickwork -- stepMIL's youngest son (the dad to be) is doing it for them. StepMIL said they are planning to have the baby shower for his wife out there in late July. "All these years and all the baby showers I've been to for other people's grandchildren -- now it's my turn!" she said triumphantly. I had to bite my tongue to restrain myself from saying something sarcastic like "Really?? Tell me what that feels like, I can't imagine."
Really, as I've written before, I honestly can't begrudge her this. She has four children between the ages of 40 & 50 -- I'm sure she thought she would have been a grandmother long before this. Instead, this will likely be her one & only grandchild (it's a boy). Dh reminded me, too, that she has mentioned our daughter occasionally over the years when most other people have not, & once gave me a Christmas ornament for her at the same time she gave one to each of our nephews, which touched us both immensely.
Then she dropped the bombshell that they had seen one of dh's aunts (on dh's mom's side), & dh's cousin & his wife are pregnant again. This is the doppleganger couple I wrote about awhile back, whose daughter just had her first birthday party in March. I just assumed that would be their only child, but I guess I was wrong. After more than a decade of marriage, & both in their 40s, they've somehow found the magic formula. (At least, I hope they have, & that everything continues to go well for them.) This baby is due in late summer/early fall. The parents are both 44, going on 45.
"I'm sure she was pregnant at that birthday party -- they could have told us," SIL said peevishly. "Well, sometimes people don't like to tell when it's early on," was all I said. Plus, I imagine they didn't want to draw the spotlight away from their daughter on her first birthday.
They also mentioned another cousin (on dh's dad's side, in her early 30s) is expecting her second child this summer too. "I didn't know that," I said. "I did -- you told me!" dh said. "I did?" Once I started thinking, I vaguely remembered. We don't see dh's paternal cousins very often. I guess I was having a bad day & shoved that piece of family news into the recesses of my mind. On the bright side, since both these cousins' pregnancies are second babies, there likely won't be baby showers for them. Whew!
To top the evening off, I had a toothache (lower left jaw) that kept me awake part of the night. I broke this tooth about four years ago & had it filled -- it's more filling than tooth now -- and was told at the time that a crown/root canal might be necessary in the future. It's been bothering me on & off for the last while. I've also been having sore throats/earaches/sinus infections on & off all winter -- but I never put two & two together until last week. My left ear felt all plugged up & the glands on the left side of my throat began to both look & feel swollen. And my jaw under that particular tooth was aching. Uh oh. I recalled one particular winter when dh kept having earaches & sinus infections -- until finally, the one side of his face swelled up like a chipmunk's cheeks. He got diagnosed with an abcessed tooth & had to have a root canal & take antibiotics. (On the bright side, he hasn't had an earache since then.)
I decided to start with my family dr & went to see him on Thursday morning. He could feel the swollen glands right away & wrote me a prescription for amoxicillin, but told me I should get the tooth checked out by the dentist. Dh had a medical appointment on Friday afternoon that I wanted to attend with him, so I decided to wait until Monday. The penicillin is helping, I think -- my glands aren't quite so swollen -- but it's still not 100%, & my tooth still aches from time to time.
So I guess I'll be calling the dentist on Monday. I'm not looking forward to a root canal, but if that's what it takes to get things back to normal, bring on the novocaine...!
On the other hand -- I spent all day yesterday cleaning & doing laundry. Dh is doing his taxes (our deadline in Canada is April 30th. He did mine last week, & I'm getting a big fat $17.75 back, woohoo!!).
And I'm getting that "everyone in the world is pregnant except me" feeling again & it's not nice. We spent last evening at FIL's with BIL & family. FIL & stepMIL are redoing & expanding their back patio with interlock brickwork -- stepMIL's youngest son (the dad to be) is doing it for them. StepMIL said they are planning to have the baby shower for his wife out there in late July. "All these years and all the baby showers I've been to for other people's grandchildren -- now it's my turn!" she said triumphantly. I had to bite my tongue to restrain myself from saying something sarcastic like "Really?? Tell me what that feels like, I can't imagine."
Really, as I've written before, I honestly can't begrudge her this. She has four children between the ages of 40 & 50 -- I'm sure she thought she would have been a grandmother long before this. Instead, this will likely be her one & only grandchild (it's a boy). Dh reminded me, too, that she has mentioned our daughter occasionally over the years when most other people have not, & once gave me a Christmas ornament for her at the same time she gave one to each of our nephews, which touched us both immensely.
Then she dropped the bombshell that they had seen one of dh's aunts (on dh's mom's side), & dh's cousin & his wife are pregnant again. This is the doppleganger couple I wrote about awhile back, whose daughter just had her first birthday party in March. I just assumed that would be their only child, but I guess I was wrong. After more than a decade of marriage, & both in their 40s, they've somehow found the magic formula. (At least, I hope they have, & that everything continues to go well for them.) This baby is due in late summer/early fall. The parents are both 44, going on 45.
"I'm sure she was pregnant at that birthday party -- they could have told us," SIL said peevishly. "Well, sometimes people don't like to tell when it's early on," was all I said. Plus, I imagine they didn't want to draw the spotlight away from their daughter on her first birthday.
They also mentioned another cousin (on dh's dad's side, in her early 30s) is expecting her second child this summer too. "I didn't know that," I said. "I did -- you told me!" dh said. "I did?" Once I started thinking, I vaguely remembered. We don't see dh's paternal cousins very often. I guess I was having a bad day & shoved that piece of family news into the recesses of my mind. On the bright side, since both these cousins' pregnancies are second babies, there likely won't be baby showers for them. Whew!
To top the evening off, I had a toothache (lower left jaw) that kept me awake part of the night. I broke this tooth about four years ago & had it filled -- it's more filling than tooth now -- and was told at the time that a crown/root canal might be necessary in the future. It's been bothering me on & off for the last while. I've also been having sore throats/earaches/sinus infections on & off all winter -- but I never put two & two together until last week. My left ear felt all plugged up & the glands on the left side of my throat began to both look & feel swollen. And my jaw under that particular tooth was aching. Uh oh. I recalled one particular winter when dh kept having earaches & sinus infections -- until finally, the one side of his face swelled up like a chipmunk's cheeks. He got diagnosed with an abcessed tooth & had to have a root canal & take antibiotics. (On the bright side, he hasn't had an earache since then.)
I decided to start with my family dr & went to see him on Thursday morning. He could feel the swollen glands right away & wrote me a prescription for amoxicillin, but told me I should get the tooth checked out by the dentist. Dh had a medical appointment on Friday afternoon that I wanted to attend with him, so I decided to wait until Monday. The penicillin is helping, I think -- my glands aren't quite so swollen -- but it's still not 100%, & my tooth still aches from time to time.
So I guess I'll be calling the dentist on Monday. I'm not looking forward to a root canal, but if that's what it takes to get things back to normal, bring on the novocaine...!
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Toronto Life followup
If you were interested in the cover of Toronto Life magazine that I posted recently, you might be interested to know that you can now read the cover story, "Baby Wars," online by clicking here. Happy reading!
Friday, April 24, 1998 (day 76): A big scare
Getting ready for work the morning of Friday, April 24th, I noticed I was spotting again -- a combination pink-brown-red. I felt a wave of fear wash over me, but I decided to go in to the office anyway. I figured my family dr was in the city & I would be closer to him that way if I needed him.
Said goodbye to dh in the concourse of our office tower & headed up to my floor. Got off the elevator. Decided to stop in the washroom before heading to my desk. It was shortly before 8 a.m. I'm usually one of the first people to arrive at the office in the morning (then & now).
There was bright red blood on the toilet paper.
I headed back downstairs again, found a payphone & called my family dr's office. He told me I should stay home & rest. "But I'm already at work," I said, "Then go home & take it easy," he said.
I called dh & told him I was going home and why. I caught the next train out of the city -- went into the washroom on the train to check my pantiliner (the washrooms on the train are generally filthy, so you know how worried I was...!). I was back home in bed by 9:30, three hours after I'd left, without even setting foot in the office. I curled up in a ball & prayed hard. I was terrified.
I called dh to tell him I was home, & he said he was worried about me & would be on the next available train. He arrived home shortly after 11. "Come on, let's go to emergency," he said. Even though there is a local hospital just a few miles down the road, we decided to make the drive into the city (through Friday afternoon rush hour traffic! albeit mostly going the other way) to the downtown hospital where our family dr has privileges -- where the ob-gyn he'd referred me to practices -- & where our baby would likely be born. It is one of the largest hospitals in the city with one of the country's largest & best high-risk practices & NICUs. I guess we figured we would get good care there.
For all the horror stories you hear about waiting time in hospital emergency rooms, I was triaged immediately & I think we only waited about an hour before we were seen. Dh remained amazingly calm (he is usually a bundle of nerves in instances like this), held my hand & smiled encouragingly at me. The (young, female, Asian) doctor examined me thoroughly (including my first-ever simultaneous vaginal-rectal probe, yikes!) & said my cervix was closed & she could find no evidence that I was miscarrying. She said my uterus appeared to be the size of a small lemon.
Just to be sure that everything was all right, though, she wanted to send us for an ultrasound. THAT took awhile to arrange, but late in the afternoon, I got taken (in a wheelchair) from emergency up to the ultrasound area on the 5th floor. They tried getting an image through my stomach but the baby wasn't large enough yet to get a good enough view, so they did a transvaginal ultrasound instead (my first date with the infamous dildocam!). The technician pointed out the sac & a small area where she said the baby was. It sure didn't look like a baby yet to me, but then she flipped a switch, & I heard a sound. "That's the heartbeat," she said.
They gave me a towel to wipe the gel off of me, & called in dh, leaving the two of us alone together. "There's a heartbeat!" I said, & he practically doubled over in joy.
The radiologist came in to talk to us. "Did you know you have a bicornuate uterus?" he said. "A what??" I said (obviously I didn't know). He explained to me, drawing a picture, that most uteruses are shaped like an upside down triangle. Mine was shaped more like a heart. (During my later infertility workup, I had an HSG done, where the my uterus, illuminated with blue dye, was clearly visible. I thought it looked more like a slingshot.)
Was this going to be a problem? I asked. He assured me it wouldn't. I think he told me (someone did, somewhere along the way) about a pregnancy in which twins were delivered by C-section -- one growing in one horn of the uterus, one growing in another.
He gave me a piece of paper to give to my family dr or ob-gyn the next time I saw them, with a description of what they'd seen. (Of course I kept a copy for myself.) Here's what it said:
4/4/98 1645
Pelvic/transvag u/s
LMP 8/2/98 = 10w4d
Bicornuate uterus
Gestational sac L horn superiorly
Crown-rump = 2.4 cm = 9.1 wks
FH+. No bleed seen.
Myometrium very thin superior to gest. sac in L. horn.
L. ov = N
R. ov = not seen
It was mostly Greek to me then (& even somewhat now). From what I've learned in the years since then, the baby was already measuring a week behind & the uterine lining was "very thin" where the gestational sac was. The shape of things to come, perhaps?
Anyway, the bicornuate uterus thing was a new development, but the radiologist's matter-of-fact, not-to-worry attitude was reassuring, so I tried not to let it bother me too much. My cervix was closed, there was a heartbeat. There wasn't anything more to do except go home & rest. We arrived, much relieved and hungry, around 7 p.m.
The next day, I had brown particles in my morning urine, but my spotting had turned brownish pink again. We were scheduled for a dinner/movie date that evening with one of my friends from high school & her husband, who lived north of the city, but I called to cancel & stayed on the couch all day. Sunday, our family dr called to check on how I was. I told him about our trip to the emergency room after I'd talked to him Friday morning, but said things were looking better now.
At one point that day, I went to the washroom, & as I stood & flushed, I gasped & jumped as I spotted a clump of something white-ish swirling down the toilet. Dh insisted it was toilet paper, or maybe some cervical mucus. I wasn't so sure, but the spotting continued to decrease (and never did return), so I gradually started feeling more confident again.
I wasn't sure at that point if there were going to be more trips to the emergency room, but I decided it was time to come clean with my officemates. (Besides which, those tight pants were getting pretty darned uncomfortable...!) It was time to let the rest of the world know that I was pregnant.
Said goodbye to dh in the concourse of our office tower & headed up to my floor. Got off the elevator. Decided to stop in the washroom before heading to my desk. It was shortly before 8 a.m. I'm usually one of the first people to arrive at the office in the morning (then & now).
There was bright red blood on the toilet paper.
I headed back downstairs again, found a payphone & called my family dr's office. He told me I should stay home & rest. "But I'm already at work," I said, "Then go home & take it easy," he said.
I called dh & told him I was going home and why. I caught the next train out of the city -- went into the washroom on the train to check my pantiliner (the washrooms on the train are generally filthy, so you know how worried I was...!). I was back home in bed by 9:30, three hours after I'd left, without even setting foot in the office. I curled up in a ball & prayed hard. I was terrified.
I called dh to tell him I was home, & he said he was worried about me & would be on the next available train. He arrived home shortly after 11. "Come on, let's go to emergency," he said. Even though there is a local hospital just a few miles down the road, we decided to make the drive into the city (through Friday afternoon rush hour traffic! albeit mostly going the other way) to the downtown hospital where our family dr has privileges -- where the ob-gyn he'd referred me to practices -- & where our baby would likely be born. It is one of the largest hospitals in the city with one of the country's largest & best high-risk practices & NICUs. I guess we figured we would get good care there.
For all the horror stories you hear about waiting time in hospital emergency rooms, I was triaged immediately & I think we only waited about an hour before we were seen. Dh remained amazingly calm (he is usually a bundle of nerves in instances like this), held my hand & smiled encouragingly at me. The (young, female, Asian) doctor examined me thoroughly (including my first-ever simultaneous vaginal-rectal probe, yikes!) & said my cervix was closed & she could find no evidence that I was miscarrying. She said my uterus appeared to be the size of a small lemon.
Just to be sure that everything was all right, though, she wanted to send us for an ultrasound. THAT took awhile to arrange, but late in the afternoon, I got taken (in a wheelchair) from emergency up to the ultrasound area on the 5th floor. They tried getting an image through my stomach but the baby wasn't large enough yet to get a good enough view, so they did a transvaginal ultrasound instead (my first date with the infamous dildocam!). The technician pointed out the sac & a small area where she said the baby was. It sure didn't look like a baby yet to me, but then she flipped a switch, & I heard a sound. "That's the heartbeat," she said.
They gave me a towel to wipe the gel off of me, & called in dh, leaving the two of us alone together. "There's a heartbeat!" I said, & he practically doubled over in joy.
The radiologist came in to talk to us. "Did you know you have a bicornuate uterus?" he said. "A what??" I said (obviously I didn't know). He explained to me, drawing a picture, that most uteruses are shaped like an upside down triangle. Mine was shaped more like a heart. (During my later infertility workup, I had an HSG done, where the my uterus, illuminated with blue dye, was clearly visible. I thought it looked more like a slingshot.)
Was this going to be a problem? I asked. He assured me it wouldn't. I think he told me (someone did, somewhere along the way) about a pregnancy in which twins were delivered by C-section -- one growing in one horn of the uterus, one growing in another.
He gave me a piece of paper to give to my family dr or ob-gyn the next time I saw them, with a description of what they'd seen. (Of course I kept a copy for myself.) Here's what it said:
4/4/98 1645
Pelvic/transvag u/s
LMP 8/2/98 = 10w4d
Bicornuate uterus
Gestational sac L horn superiorly
Crown-rump = 2.4 cm = 9.1 wks
FH+. No bleed seen.
Myometrium very thin superior to gest. sac in L. horn.
L. ov = N
R. ov = not seen
It was mostly Greek to me then (& even somewhat now). From what I've learned in the years since then, the baby was already measuring a week behind & the uterine lining was "very thin" where the gestational sac was. The shape of things to come, perhaps?
Anyway, the bicornuate uterus thing was a new development, but the radiologist's matter-of-fact, not-to-worry attitude was reassuring, so I tried not to let it bother me too much. My cervix was closed, there was a heartbeat. There wasn't anything more to do except go home & rest. We arrived, much relieved and hungry, around 7 p.m.
The next day, I had brown particles in my morning urine, but my spotting had turned brownish pink again. We were scheduled for a dinner/movie date that evening with one of my friends from high school & her husband, who lived north of the city, but I called to cancel & stayed on the couch all day. Sunday, our family dr called to check on how I was. I told him about our trip to the emergency room after I'd talked to him Friday morning, but said things were looking better now.
At one point that day, I went to the washroom, & as I stood & flushed, I gasped & jumped as I spotted a clump of something white-ish swirling down the toilet. Dh insisted it was toilet paper, or maybe some cervical mucus. I wasn't so sure, but the spotting continued to decrease (and never did return), so I gradually started feeling more confident again.
I wasn't sure at that point if there were going to be more trips to the emergency room, but I decided it was time to come clean with my officemates. (Besides which, those tight pants were getting pretty darned uncomfortable...!) It was time to let the rest of the world know that I was pregnant.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Recent reading: "Everything Conceivable"
One unexpected side effect of blogging is that even though I seem to be spending just as much time if not more so on the computer (!), I am also reading more books (albeit most of them related to to infertility & pregnancy loss).
Part of that, of course, is due to the Barren B*tches Book Brigade. Earlier this month, prompted by a recommendation from Pamela Jeanne, I dug "Everything Conceivable" by Liza Mundy out of my gargantuan "to read" pile.
Mundy is a Washington Post reporter, and this is very much a work of journalism, as opposed to a "how to" guide. She has put her investigative skills to excellent use on behalf of not just infertile people but those seeking to understand the impact that ARTs are having on all of us -- not just the families created through ARTs, but society as a whole. She talks to infertile couples, children born from ARTs, doctors and embryologists, people who run sperm banks, pioneers in the field. She delves into the history of ARTs, and it's startling to realize just how new this technology really is, and how very little we know about so much of it.
The book examines some interesting -- and sometimes very tough -- questions to which there are no obvious or easy answers -- the implications of using donor gametes, the rights of children to know their biological parents, the rights of the donor to remain anonymous, the impact of multiple births, the question of selective reduction, the dilemma of what to do with leftover frozen embryos, whether the fertility industry should be regulated, should donors and surrogates be compensated, gay & lesbian parents, single mothers by choice, and the impact ARTs are having on traditional feminism.
As Pamela Jeanne noted, throughout the book, infertile people are treated with respect and sympathy. I was moved by so many of the the stories told here.
Because the book is focused specifically on ARTs & how they are changing our world, there is little mention of adoption as an option (most of what there is in comparison to the similar issues raised by use of donor gametes) and none (that I could find) regarding the option of living childfree after treatment. That would probably be my biggest quibble about the book -- I would love to see what Mundy could do with that topic! But it's not enough of a quibble to keep me from recommending this great book. Future BBBB selection, perhaps??
Part of that, of course, is due to the Barren B*tches Book Brigade. Earlier this month, prompted by a recommendation from Pamela Jeanne, I dug "Everything Conceivable" by Liza Mundy out of my gargantuan "to read" pile.
Mundy is a Washington Post reporter, and this is very much a work of journalism, as opposed to a "how to" guide. She has put her investigative skills to excellent use on behalf of not just infertile people but those seeking to understand the impact that ARTs are having on all of us -- not just the families created through ARTs, but society as a whole. She talks to infertile couples, children born from ARTs, doctors and embryologists, people who run sperm banks, pioneers in the field. She delves into the history of ARTs, and it's startling to realize just how new this technology really is, and how very little we know about so much of it.
The book examines some interesting -- and sometimes very tough -- questions to which there are no obvious or easy answers -- the implications of using donor gametes, the rights of children to know their biological parents, the rights of the donor to remain anonymous, the impact of multiple births, the question of selective reduction, the dilemma of what to do with leftover frozen embryos, whether the fertility industry should be regulated, should donors and surrogates be compensated, gay & lesbian parents, single mothers by choice, and the impact ARTs are having on traditional feminism.
As Pamela Jeanne noted, throughout the book, infertile people are treated with respect and sympathy. I was moved by so many of the the stories told here.
Because the book is focused specifically on ARTs & how they are changing our world, there is little mention of adoption as an option (most of what there is in comparison to the similar issues raised by use of donor gametes) and none (that I could find) regarding the option of living childfree after treatment. That would probably be my biggest quibble about the book -- I would love to see what Mundy could do with that topic! But it's not enough of a quibble to keep me from recommending this great book. Future BBBB selection, perhaps??
Sunday, April 20, 2008
April 6-23, 1998: I've got a secret...
The Monday after my Mom returned home from her week-long visit, I returned to work, harbouring my little secret. While everyone on both sides of the family now knew I was pregnant, I was still hoping to get through the first trimester before telling people at the office -- although it was hard, since my clothes were already feeling tight. I remember wearing lots of sweaters overtop of skirts & pants (including my new navy floral drawstring palazzo pants) -- in order to hide the undone top button.
Wednesday, April 8th, I attended an all-day workshop at a downtown hotel. I don't remember a lot about the workshop, but I do remember frequent trips to the washroom (still some spotting) & loading up on fruit from the coffee break buffet. Also that week, I fielded phone calls from roofers (the few who deigned to return my messages) with quotes on repairing a leak around the chimney stack. (The job eventually got done, for $128.) By the end of the week (much to my relief), the spotting finally tapered off to a yellowish discharge. I could live with that!
April 10th was Good Friday. With FIL & stepMIL in Florida, & BIL at his MIL's, we were invited to spend Easter with dh's aunt & her family.
April was a month full of babies -- babies who are now turning 10 years old. An older friend from work (different department) became a first-time grandmother when her daughter gave birth to a baby girl on April 13th, and SIL's cousin had a baby girl the same day. The cousin whose shower I attended earlier in the month delivered a boy on April 20th.
Thursday, April 16th, rumours began to fly hot & heavy that the Toronto-Dominion Bank and Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce were planning a merger -- following in the footsteps of the Royal Bank and Bank of Montreal, who had announced plans to merge in January. The next day, the proposed merger was announced, causing a huge sensation on Bay Street (Canada's equivalent of Wall Street, where I work), & creating a huge flurry of work (and high stress levels) for me & my colleagues. I can remember pounding the keyboard frantically & looking down at my expanding belly & thinking, "Oh baby, this can't be good for you." In my datebook that week & the next, I note that I was constantly YAWNING & heading off to bed extra-early, totally exhausted.
Thursday, April 23rd, I had lunch with my first-year roommate from university, now a high-powered corporate lawyer who worked (and still works) in the office tower across the street from mine. We still get together every month or two for lunch dates. Two years previously, she had given birth to a boy at age 37, & a few months earlier, she had loaned me a book on "getting pregnant" that she said had been helpful when she was trying to conceive. Much to her delight, I handed the book across the table to her & told her I wouldn't be needing it anymore. Ah, such confidence...!
Wednesday, April 8th, I attended an all-day workshop at a downtown hotel. I don't remember a lot about the workshop, but I do remember frequent trips to the washroom (still some spotting) & loading up on fruit from the coffee break buffet. Also that week, I fielded phone calls from roofers (the few who deigned to return my messages) with quotes on repairing a leak around the chimney stack. (The job eventually got done, for $128.) By the end of the week (much to my relief), the spotting finally tapered off to a yellowish discharge. I could live with that!
April 10th was Good Friday. With FIL & stepMIL in Florida, & BIL at his MIL's, we were invited to spend Easter with dh's aunt & her family.
April was a month full of babies -- babies who are now turning 10 years old. An older friend from work (different department) became a first-time grandmother when her daughter gave birth to a baby girl on April 13th, and SIL's cousin had a baby girl the same day. The cousin whose shower I attended earlier in the month delivered a boy on April 20th.
Thursday, April 16th, rumours began to fly hot & heavy that the Toronto-Dominion Bank and Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce were planning a merger -- following in the footsteps of the Royal Bank and Bank of Montreal, who had announced plans to merge in January. The next day, the proposed merger was announced, causing a huge sensation on Bay Street (Canada's equivalent of Wall Street, where I work), & creating a huge flurry of work (and high stress levels) for me & my colleagues. I can remember pounding the keyboard frantically & looking down at my expanding belly & thinking, "Oh baby, this can't be good for you." In my datebook that week & the next, I note that I was constantly YAWNING & heading off to bed extra-early, totally exhausted.
Thursday, April 23rd, I had lunch with my first-year roommate from university, now a high-powered corporate lawyer who worked (and still works) in the office tower across the street from mine. We still get together every month or two for lunch dates. Two years previously, she had given birth to a boy at age 37, & a few months earlier, she had loaned me a book on "getting pregnant" that she said had been helpful when she was trying to conceive. Much to her delight, I handed the book across the table to her & told her I wouldn't be needing it anymore. Ah, such confidence...!
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