My physical recovery from the D&C has been alright. I feel like I’ve been in a wrestling match or a fist fight, just sore all over. The fluctuating hormones have given me bad headaches, and my lungs have only just recovered from the anesthesia. The bruises and puncture wounds from my Lovenox shots are taking forever to fade, so I really do look like I’m in a Fight Club. Not that I would ever talk about that if it were true.

My arms are the worst. As Mike mentioned, I blew out two IVs before one of the nurses finally got one to take. The first one was on the side of my left wrist, and left a small precise bruise that blends in with my freckles. The second IV was on the back of my right wrist, and holy crap. It blew out spectacularly. The build up of fluid and blood made a hematoma so massive it literally looked like a thumb was growing out of my wrist. Even the nurses were a little grossed out. That spot is dark brownish-red, and wow is it sore.

Then there’s the spot on my left forearm, where my IV finally worked after lots of…digging.

My arm was so swollen in this picture that for a minute I thought I was looking at my leg. Ouch.

I would describe my cramps as a cross between a really bad period and post-c-section gas pain. It’s alternately uncomfortable uterine pressure mixed with sharp, stabbing pains. My stomach is still poochy and bloated. Pregnancy is so rough on me, but with all three of mine as soon as I got the positive pregnancy tests a switch flipped in me, and I loved every part of my body. I had all the body confidence I’d always wanted. Now I look at that small bump in my midsection with disgust. Not because of its appearance, but because of its emptiness…its failure. Ugh, I guess that switch flipped back pretty fast.

Mostly, I’m tired. I overdid it the last couple of days, so I just have to take a step back and let myself relax. Annie is very concerned by my bruises and offers me band-aids for the “boo-boo in my belly” whenever she gets the chance.

She makes all my boo-boos feel better.

© COPYRIGHT HEATHER SPOHR 2012 All rights reserved. This content may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means, without the prior written permission of the author.

I’ve had friends (too many friends) have miscarriages. I was just a wreck for them. So sad, so devastated. I hate thinking about them being heartbroken. I’ve cried for them and their families and their babies.

But now that it’s happened to me, I have…no emotion. No crying, no sorrow. Just emptiness.

Everyone has been so friendly, looking at me with sadness and sympathy, and I just want to shut my eyes to it all. I don’t want any more of these looks. I don’t want to be the one everyone feels sorry for…again. I was going over my medical history with a pre-op nurse, and when I told her I’d had two previous c-sections, she asked me how old my children where. I replied, “My daughter is two,” and then said nothing else. She asked about my other child, so I told her about Maddie. She looked at me with a sad clown face and said, “It’s too much.”

And I know it’s too much. I know it is. I would say the same, if I were talking about someone else. But I don’t feel it. Maybe it’s because I won’t let myself. I don’t want to go down this path again. Maybe I’m keeping it at arm’s length, the poisonous bite of pain and pity.

Or maybe it’s because I can’t. My grief for Madeline is so huge and consuming…maybe too consuming…there’s nothing left. I want there to be something. There should be something…right? I hope I’m just in shock, but I’m afraid I’m broken inside. Afraid I can’t grieve anymore. Just…afraid.

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I think part of me always knew this wasn’t going to happen.

Everything felt different than with the first two. My breasts weren’t tender, my skin was bad, my nausea wasn’t as severe. “Maybe it’s a boy!” My family said helpfully, hopefully. Maybe. But I knew something was off.

We saw Dr. Hirisk for an ultrasound at 6w2d gestation. We saw a sack and fetal pole, but no heartbeat. Dr. Hirisk didn’t want to start me on the blood thinner Lovenox (for my clotting disorder) until he saw a heartbeat. “If you were to miscarry on Lovenox, it could be very dangerous.” He had us make an appointment to come back four days later to look for a heartbeat. The feeling that something was wrong grew stronger.

But then four days later the heartbeat was there and Dr. Hirisk seemed surprised and relieved. He prescribed my blood thinners, and scheduled me to come in six weeks later for the first trimester screen.

“Shouldn’t I come in five weeks from now?” I asked, “I’m seven weeks tomorrow.”

“No…according to the ultrasound the baby is measuring six weeks. You probably ovulated late.” Dr. Hirisk replied.

Except I hadn’t ovulated late. I knew exactly when I’d ovulated: we’d used a digital ovulation kit. But Mike was excited, the doctors were happy. I told myself I was being overly cynical and cautious. I was going to enjoy this pregnancy.

I let myself get caught up in it all. We discussed names, took bets on if the baby would come before or after Thanksgiving, if it would be a boy or another girl.

Two nights before the appointment with my OB, my cousin Leah asked me if this pregnancy felt like my others. Before I could even think I said, “No.”  The sinking feeling I’d had earlier came rushing back. I couldn’t sleep, worried. And then we went to the appointment.

Part of me always knew this wasn’t going to happen…but I just wish that part of me hadn’t been right.

© COPYRIGHT HEATHER SPOHR 2012 All rights reserved. This content may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means, without the prior written permission of the author.

Hi Everyone,

Heather had her D&C today, and, as her OB told me in the waiting room after the surgery was finished, all went well. “All went well,” of course, is a relative term in this circumstance, as she was talking about removing what Heather and I hoped was going to be our sweet little baby. It’s best not to think about that sad stuff, though. Instead, I will focus on the positive – that the surgery “went well” without doing any damage to Heather’s insides, and she was able to come home. Oh, and it is over. That is a positive too.

It was a long day at the hospital, which was especially hard when we were there to do something so depressing. When you go to the hospital to do something exciting – like deliver your baby – you are willing to wait for hours and hours because you know at the end there will be a happy ending. Today though there was no happy ending, no carrot to get you through. Just a long, depressing day.

Though things “went well” generally, there were a few hiccups… Heather had a fainting spell, blew out two IVs (likely because of her clotting disorder and being a bit dehydrated from not eating for 24 hours and not drinking for 14), and by the time they finally got one to work she was pretty darn uncomfortable. Later, when she woke up from the anesthesia, she had some trouble breathing and needed oxygen. Luckily the doctors were quick and got that under control. Heather couldn’t stop saying, “thank you for taking care of me,” to everyone that came near her. Apparently that was the last thing she said to the nurses before she was put under, too. She gets very effusive when she’s all drugged out.

Heather is under orders to take it easy for a few days, so her mother, Annie, and I have been playing nurse. She seems in okay spirits, all things considered. I’m hanging in there, too. Still, I am glad that once I hit publish I will be able to go to sleep and leave this day in the past where it belongs.

© COPYRIGHT HEATHER SPOHR 2012 All rights reserved. This content may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means, without the prior written permission of the author.

I saw my perinatologist today. It’s not Dr. Risky – unfortunately, UCLA and Blue Shield have not worked out their differences. So I have a new peri who shall now be known as Dr. Hirisk. He is great, we really like him. He and an ultrasound tech confirmed what my OB saw yesterday. It’s called a “Missed AB,” or Missed Abortion. It’s where the baby stops developing, but your body has no idea. That explains why I have still been sick, had headaches, and started to show.

Originally the plan was to have a D&C on Monday, in order to give my medications time to leave my system (two different blood thinners). But then I started to spot in the afternoon, so the D&C was moved to tomorrow, Thursday, at 1. If my spotting turns into full-on bleeding, I am to go to the ER for an emergency D&C. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that. Dr. Hirisk and my OB don’t want me to bleed at home – the blood thinners make that dangerous – and they want to run chromosomal tests. At this point, we don’t know if this is a “typical” miscarriage or one caused by Antiphospholipid Antibody Syndrome. The tests will give us the answer.

There is more, so much more, to say, but for now I am wrapping it up so I can deal with these cramps. Annie is my nurse, covering me with a blanket, and she just offered me her Wobble. I am in good hands.

Thank you for all of your amazing comments, emails, tweets, and texts. I’ve said it before, but having all of you support us through the tough times makes things less bleak and lonely. We love you all back.

© COPYRIGHT HEATHER SPOHR 2012 All rights reserved. This content may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means, without the prior written permission of the author.

I’ve had today circled on my calendar for a couple months. I woke up this morning so excited. I was going to see my baby, and tell everyone that we were expecting again.

But there was no heartbeat. The growth stopped a week and a half ago.

I don’t feel anything. I thought writing it out would help.

But I don’t feel anything.

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I am a huge researcher and planner. I’m the kind of person who will spend weeks (sometimes months) researching purchases. I can be spontaneous if necessary, but when given the option I want to be as informed as possible for anything important. Pregnancy is no exception…in fact, I am even thirstier for information when I’m pregnant.

This is where I remind you I’m kind of a control freak.

When I was on bed rest during my pregnancy with Madeline, the only thing I could concentrate on was reading about my situation. I read all sorts of scenarios and outcomes, read an entire 500-page book on prematurity, and memorized NICU terms. Everyone around me thought I was insane. “Stop stressing yourself out, don’t read those stories about sick babies,” but I had to. I felt compelled to absorb as much information as possible. And it paid off for me – I was an amazingly informed parent when Madeline was in the NICU. I knew the questions to ask and I understood the answers I was given. I was as prepared as I could possibly be, and felt confident in all her medical decisions.

My dad asked me the other day if I’d heard about the new test, MaterniT21, that can detect Down Syndrome with just a sample of the pregnant mother’s blood. The research posted by the company that developed the test shows a 98.6% success rate for diagnosis. As it stands now, tests for Down Syndrome return many false positives, leading women to have unnecessary amniocentesis or chorionic villus sampling, which are very invasive and carry risks. So, this new test should dramatically cut down the number of women who have the invasive tests for no reason (the developers of the test still suggest having an amnio or cvs for official diagnosis).

My dad brought it up because he wanted to know if I would have the test if my doctor offered it during my next pregnancy. I said yes, absolutely. For me, it’s another way I can become a more informed parent. If I found out my child likely  had a Down Syndrome diagnosis, I’d spend the rest of my pregnancy devouring all the information I could so I could be as prepared as possible (I say likely because, as someone with a heightened risk for premature ruptured membranes, I would not have an amnio or cvs).

I’ve been talking to my friends about the new test and I discovered that not everyone is a researcher when it comes to pregnancy. I didn’t expect many, if any, to be as hyper as I am about ingesting information, but I was surprised that some people don’t want to know anything about what is going on. No testing, no reading “my pregnancy this week,” nothing. And while I understand the desire to shield oneself from all the bad, awful stories, I am bewildered by the black out on ALL information. There are so many cool things that happen during pregnancy!

I totally know that on a scale of one to ten, I am obsessive. But is ignorance truly bliss when you’re pregnant?

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For all my joking last week about chewing up my birth control pills, Mike and I DO want another kid. Ideally that would be sometime next year. Being October already, I started looking into making appointments with my medical “team” to make sure everything is up to snuff with the ole’ baby maker.

I have different health insurance since Annabel was born, so I went on my provider’s website to confirm all my doctors were covered. And they are, so yay! I mentioned that to Mike, and he said, “Wait…so Dr. Risky is covered for pre-appointments, but not once you’re pregnant?”

UGH. I had forgotten that I didn’t have maternity coverage.

I called up my insurance provider to find out how to add maternity. After being transferred LITERALLY seven times, I was finally told that the state of California doesn’t require insurance providers to offer maternity coverage…so they don’t.

From a business standpoint, I totally get it. A limited number of the population needs it, and it’s costly and blah blah blah. If I was an insurance company I wouldn’t want to provide maternity if I didn’t have to. It’s just such a bummer that our insurance doesn’t offer it to begin with – I’ve never had health insurance that didn’t include a maternity option.

We’re not sure what our next move should be. Other than switching to a job with a better insurance plan (which isn’t exactly easy these days, either), we don’t really know what our options are. Paying out-of-pocket for a pregnancy would be…expensive. Is another child worth all the money it would cost to bring him or her here? Yes, and no. Yes, for obvious reasons. No because we’re not going to go into debt to the detriment of Annabel.

A lot of people say they aren’t getting pregnant because they can’t afford a baby. We can afford the baby, but without insurance we can’t afford the pregnancy. I’m googling and calling and emailing and trying to leave no stone unturned, but I’m kind of off my game. I was mentally prepared for the long road of pregnancy, but I wasn’t prepared for this detour. Le sigh.

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A lot of people ask me about what it’s like to be on bed rest.  They have a sister/girlfriend/wife who has just been put on it, and they have no idea what to do. I had ten weeks of bed rest during my pregnancy with Madeline. When it started, it was only supposed to be for a few days, as a precaution. I was glad I would only miss a week of work. I was a bit worried about the pregnancy but since everything initially checked out okay I decided to enjoy not having to go out in the hot weather. Then, three days after I was put on temporary precautionary bed rest, I was put on full-time no-holds-barred bed rest. I was only allowed to get up to go to the bathroom. I was allowed a five minute shower but only if I sat down on a seat while I cleaned myself. I needed to lay on my side, preferably my left one, at all times. Never on my back, and I wasn’t ever supposed to sit up because that would stress my abdominal muscles. Gravity was a serious issue since I was constantly leaking amniotic fluid.

So many people told me, “enjoy the rest, because when the baby comes, you won’t get any.” Anyone who says that has never been on bed rest (and is kinda dumb, because you can’t store sleep). While everyone obviously meant well, it did little to cheer me up. I didn’t even know if there would BE a baby at the end of bed rest. I tried to stay positive, but all the doctors told us to expect a miscarriage at any time. Every little ache and pain was feared to be so much more.

Doctors shouldn’t call it bed “rest.” For me, there was nothing restful about it. I was constantly thinking about my condition. I did hours of research on the Internet about babies and mothers in our situation. I wanted to be prepared for anything. It definitely helped once Maddie was in the NICU as I knew what to expect, but there were so many things to prepare for that it totally messed with my mind. Pregnant women are a pretty paranoid bunch these days anyway, what with all the things not to eat, do, etc. Throw in a high risk pregnancy and I can guarantee mental breakdowns. I had a lot of them. Even though I had Mike and my family and friends (when I was allowed to take visitors), I still felt like I was in solitary confinement. I started to wonder what I could have done differently. I shouldn’t have been outside over Labor Day weekend since the weather was so hot. I ran too many errands and I was on my feet too much. When you have nothing to do but think, your mind plays terrible tricks on you.

The one thing I never expected was how totally draining bed rest would be. Because all I could do was lay there, I would sleep in small bursts. Thirty minutes here, 45 minutes there. No long stretches, ever, even at night. I became very knowledgeable on the late night television schedule. I had trouble concentrating on everything. And physically, it destroyed me. I could feel my muscles twitching as they atrophied. My hips and lower back are, I fear, still totally messed up from supporting all my weight in the same position for days on end. I had a pillow top mattress with a memory foam pad, and it still felt like I was laying on rough concrete. The special bed in the hospital wasn’t much better. I’ve had dozens of physical therapy sessions to help.

I had some really low moments. Times I just wanted to give up. I felt like I was going to crack and I couldn’t do it anymore. I didn’t WANT to do it anymore. It was so hard, the enormity so overwhelming, that I just didn’t want to be pregnant and I didn’t CARE. I still feel guilty about that. Thank goodness I had Mike. He never judged me when I was at my most selfish, crying because I was uncomfortable or because I wouldn’t be able to do something. He never threw anything in my face. I never could have made it without him.

Looking back on it all now, it seems like a lifetime ago. When I was on bed rest, I would remind myself, even during my low points, that every day I was on bed rest was a day Madeline didn’t have to be in the hospital. I wish I could have gone longer, that I hadn’t needed that emergency C-Section. My discomfort was merely a paper cut compared to what Maddie went through. That is my biggest advice to moms on bed rest – keep your eye on the prize. Every day you can keep your baby inside and out of the hospital is worth any pain you have to go through to make it happen.

© COPYRIGHT HEATHER SPOHR 2012 All rights reserved. This content may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means, without the prior written permission of the author.

Living in Los Angeles comes with the prerequisite that you know everything that’s going on with celebrities. I am nothing if not serious about my duties, and I do what I can to stay up to date on my chosen celebrity major: their babies. Victoria Beckham and Kate Hudson had babies this past week. As I did my research, I read an article in the LA Times that spoke less about the celeb offspring and more about how they were born.

To boil it down, Beckham had a repeat C-section, while Hudson had a vaginal birth. Hudson’s first pregnancy was a C-section. The article then goes on to discuss the risks and rewards of VBAC (vaginal birth after C-section), and how many women want at least the chance to deliver naturally but aren’t offered one.

My C-section with Madeline was an emergency surgery that required a “classical” cut on my uterus instead of the common low transverse scar. The doctor that delivered Madeline told me I would never be able to give birth vaginally for subsequent pregnancies. At the time I didn’t give it a second thought, as I was totally wrapped up in Madeline’s NICU stay.

Dr. Risky, my OB for Annabel, was different. At our first appointment, she didn’t tell me a vaginal delivery would be impossible. Instead, she went over my risks for a VBAC, carefully explaining everything to us. She told us she was strongly against it, but in the end the decision was left to Mike and me. After listening carefully and weighing the risks of a VBAC on top of my other risk factors, we chose a repeat C-section. And honestly, after losing Maddie we weren’t willing to take any chances.

That being said, I’m curious why some women do make the choice (when they are allowed) to have a VBAC. I am obviously super-sensitive to anything that will put the baby at risk (and I know C-sections come with risks), so I have a bit of a colored view that I’m trying to rectify. I hate when I hear women say things like, “A C-section isn’t real birth” because I gave birth to two babies that way and I think that’s so insulting. And I hate when other women say that having a C-section is a failure. If the baby is born alive and healthy, isn’t that a success? Isn’t that the POINT?

OK seriously though, I want to understand. Illuminate me, mamas!

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