Waiting for Blood.
This is a very personal post and though not gory, it discusses reproduction and loss, and of course, Blood. Please stop now if you'd prefer not to be exposed to anything of that nature.
For the last six years of my life I have been waiting for Blood. Seems strange to phrase it that way but like clockwork, Blood flowed into my life every month until we started having children. Before our first daughter was conceived, Blood was predictable, down to the day thanks to modern hormonal medicines. And Blood was a trusty companion, never late or missing her mark. One month, though, we thought we were ready and ended the prevention, and found we were easily pregnant with Baby #1.
That pregnancy flew by and a little early and much too quickly our daughter was born, followed by my old friend Blood. The afterbirth was messy and unexpected (I'm well read but firsthand knowledge was eye opening!). It was not a scary visit, though profuse and jello-like, it was simply educational and strangely exciting to see my body so successfully at work. Perfect enough, despite those first few weeks postpartum, Blood was MIA for almost a year, a blessing chalked up to breastfeeding. About the time we wanted to try for Baby #2, she returned without much fanfare. Baby #2, our second daughter, was a little more tricky to catch and it took a few months of attempts to conceive her. Meanwhile, we held our breath each month as we neared the end of our two week wait for either a YES! you are pregnant or a wahwahwah....visit from Blood. When she didn't arrive one month on the expected date, those two pink lines lit up like a Christmas tree and we were all smiles.
After Baby #2 was born though, Blood was not exactly something we were planning to wait and watch for. We were busy moving and raising girls, thinking about the future and hoping for an addition or two whenever they may come along. Baby #3 then was a happy surprise when not more than a year after our second daughter we missed Blood's monthly visit. Fully expecting a happy and healthy pregnancy, it was a shock to see Blood one day, no more than 6 weeks in, and realize that initial surprise was not more than a fuzzy "maybe baby" that couldn't hang on. Cursing Blood, we quickly grieved and regrouped. Two months later, that same happy and healthy pregnancy thought on our minds, we smiled at the two pink lines. Baby #4 wasn't to be though either, as Blood reared her now ugly and menacing face back in our lives early. It took twenty-one days to be rid of her and I was determined to never let her visits again take me by surprise.
I put away the welcome mat and set my jaw strong. We would get our baby yet and I would not wait for Blood anymore. When we finally got our positive another four months down the road with Baby #5, our third daughter, I was ready. I watched for Blood, took medication every night to try to prevent her arrival and we made it through the first half of the pregnancy, anxiety through the roof but determined. Little did I know how silly I would look, thinking I had any control over Blood. Our ultrasound diagnosed a complete and centered placenta previa. This, coupled with my history of two premature babies, meant one thing: Blood was coming and she wouldn't be packing light. There was no way to prevent her arrival and though we were on guard and ready to run at the slightest drip, this time it could mean doom. Gloom settled over me and watching for Blood was an almost hourly occurrence. There wasn't a color in her spectrum I did not recognize and lucky for us, we made it to 35weeks before the grand entrance. Unexpected as it was, and faucet-like in its flow, we made it to the hospital and the OR in time to save both mom and baby. A healthy and happy family of five was created.
Our girls were wonderful but we wanted to complete our little train. Trying for the caboose, we were lucky enough to get pregnant with Baby #6 the first month. Alas, that six week mark came and so did Blood. I wasn't heartbroken this time. I had let her get the best of me on so many other occasions and this time I steeled myself, barely getting excited as my numbers climbed and then slowly fell. Not knowing why was frustrating but we had overcome this hurdle three times now, picked up and soldiered on. My lucky Baby #7, my son, was conceived about three months later and a peace fell over me early on.
It would have been easy to let the anxiety take over, the waiting and watching and praying for Blood to stay at bay...but it didn't run my life this time. We did daily medication to prevent an early loss, looked for a placenta blocking the way out at his ultrasound, and when all was declared right with the world, the fear of Blood was truly gone. So when labor started with him, it was not a thought in my mind that I should be wary of her return in any negative way. Sure, I put old sheets on the bed for the afterbirth, planning for some natural and expected affair, but the fear wasn't forefront as we prepared for birth.
I should have known better. When my uterus ruptured tragically and so quickly, Blood poured out, though all internally. My son's placenta abrupted, killing him, and filling me up with liters of Blood. When the EMTs arrived they kept looking around for the red pools of it, perplexed as to why my body, which had already failed my son, was holding back the torrent.
I was blessed to see very little of that Blood. I haven't seen much yet since he was born either. Odd though it may sound, we are in a little purgatory or limbo-land waiting for Blood again. I am of so many minds about whether or not this is a good thing, this waiting. Parts of me do not want my journey with Griffin to be over, and I want my body to continue thinking there is a tiny particle of him left, never to be replaced, never to try again. Other parts of me want my body back. After babies have grown and left my womb, I have nursed and carried them in my arms for months, even years. Now my daughters are two, four, and six years old...they are long since done with nursing from me and getting too big to be regularly carried. It seems in a selfish way, that waiting for Blood would allow me to feel "normal" again, to have my body belong only to me for the first time in such a long time.
I do not miss Blood herself. I don't enjoy monthly visits from her, though by now we should be old frenemies with such a history as we have had. I had always been grateful for that predictable nature she had, that punctual and timely gal that she was in my life before I started making babies. Maybe I'll be glad of her presence again soon; maybe I won't hold it against her that she has caused me so much anxiety and heartache. For now, she is keeping me waiting.
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| October 2007 |
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| June 2009 |
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| February 2011 |
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| Before the 1st miscarriage, loving being newly pregnant. Febrauary 2011. |
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| April 2011 |
I put away the welcome mat and set my jaw strong. We would get our baby yet and I would not wait for Blood anymore. When we finally got our positive another four months down the road with Baby #5, our third daughter, I was ready. I watched for Blood, took medication every night to try to prevent her arrival and we made it through the first half of the pregnancy, anxiety through the roof but determined. Little did I know how silly I would look, thinking I had any control over Blood. Our ultrasound diagnosed a complete and centered placenta previa. This, coupled with my history of two premature babies, meant one thing: Blood was coming and she wouldn't be packing light. There was no way to prevent her arrival and though we were on guard and ready to run at the slightest drip, this time it could mean doom. Gloom settled over me and watching for Blood was an almost hourly occurrence. There wasn't a color in her spectrum I did not recognize and lucky for us, we made it to 35weeks before the grand entrance. Unexpected as it was, and faucet-like in its flow, we made it to the hospital and the OR in time to save both mom and baby. A healthy and happy family of five was created.
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| March 2012 |
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| May 2013 |
It would have been easy to let the anxiety take over, the waiting and watching and praying for Blood to stay at bay...but it didn't run my life this time. We did daily medication to prevent an early loss, looked for a placenta blocking the way out at his ultrasound, and when all was declared right with the world, the fear of Blood was truly gone. So when labor started with him, it was not a thought in my mind that I should be wary of her return in any negative way. Sure, I put old sheets on the bed for the afterbirth, planning for some natural and expected affair, but the fear wasn't forefront as we prepared for birth.
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| January 24, 2014 11:55pm. Blood arrives silently and Griffin is already gone. |
I should have known better. When my uterus ruptured tragically and so quickly, Blood poured out, though all internally. My son's placenta abrupted, killing him, and filling me up with liters of Blood. When the EMTs arrived they kept looking around for the red pools of it, perplexed as to why my body, which had already failed my son, was holding back the torrent.
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| Early morning hours of his Birth Day: January 25, 2014 |
I do not miss Blood herself. I don't enjoy monthly visits from her, though by now we should be old frenemies with such a history as we have had. I had always been grateful for that predictable nature she had, that punctual and timely gal that she was in my life before I started making babies. Maybe I'll be glad of her presence again soon; maybe I won't hold it against her that she has caused me so much anxiety and heartache. For now, she is keeping me waiting.
I'm so sorry for the loss of your son. Honest question, if you could go back and deliver in a hospital to save his life, would you?
ReplyDeleteHonest question: why would you ask a mother, who is already hurting beyond comprehension, to contemplate guilt-ridden "what-if" choices she cannot go back and find out the answer to?
DeleteBeing in a hospital would not guarantee that he would be here. There is no easy way out of pregnancy and no risk-free way to give birth. I seriously cannot comprehend why somebody would ask such a question or phrase it in such a passive agressive, guilt-laden way.
Thank you for the courage to share Griffin. I cannot fathom your pain but I honor it and I lovingly respect you and your family as I keep you in my thoughts and prayers.
Melissa
Well, Melissa.... I also had a traumatic birth experience, and while my child is still here with us, he is severely disabled. I often think of the "what-ifs" related to his birth. All of the things that could have/should have been handled differently that would have led to a better outcome.
DeleteThanks ladies for the comments. In response to you, 3loveme, hindsight is a beautiful thing. I have not written or posted his birth story yet so you would not know that it was not the "being at home" that killed him. It was simply the uterine rupture. Thanks Melissa E, I too have been able to logic his death, though it does still cause me quite a bit of guilt.
DeleteI think the main message I am struggling with the most is the thought that he would have been saved if...when who knows what that if would have been? Things that could have/should have been handled differently MAY have led to a better outcome. They also might have led to a different type of hell, whatever that might be. I can't see the future and I can't see alternate universes etc. I will never know which choice during pregnancy or birth was THE ONE that made the difference.
Best of luck to you in your ongoing struggle with Grief 3loveme, traumatic births and their outcomes have scarred me for life and I am managing just as well as I can.