Post by bradysmommy1 on Jul 18, 2006 13:42:59 GMT -5
Hi everyone, I just wanted to introduce myself and share my IC story. I want to preface the story by first telling everyone that has experienced a loss due to IC that I am truly sorry, and to remember that although it often seems like it, we are not alone.
Just as sooo many of us, I never heard of IC, and therefore never knew to be the slightest bit concerned or worried about it. Like many women who read, all I knew was that once I made it past the first trimester, I was pretty much "in the clear". If I only knew then what I know now.
I found out that I was pregnant on March 17th 2006. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. After I got over my initial shock, my next reaction was fear. The baby's father and I weren't in any kind of committed relationship to be perfectly blunt, and I had no idea how he would respond. To my surprise again, he was happy and excited. I was glad that he was happy, although truthfully his reaction would not have influenced my decision about whether or not to keep the baby. I always knew that if I got pregnant, I would keep my baby regardless. So, at that point we were on our way.
I decided that I wouldn't tell my family until I had gotten the "official" confirmation from my new doctor. So, on April 4th, I went it to see my doctor. I did all the initial paperwork and bloodwork and then I went into the exam room and got undressed. I wasn't sure what for, but I went along with it. I saw the doctor turning on the ultrasound machine and I was surprised, I had no idea that I would get a look at the baby this soon. When I saw him on the screen I cried because I couldn't believe that this beautiful formation of life was going on inside of me. It was really and truly a poetic moment, and from then on I was truly in love. When I went home that day, I couldn't stop looking at his picture and I told my family. It seemed like everyone was in a state of shock, except for my baby sister (who's not really a baby, she's 18). She started jumping around and was so happy! My mother, of course, wanted to know about his father and how certain I was about my decision. I reassured her that this was MY baby and whoever chose to be around or not be around, that was up to them, but my baby wasn't going anywhere if I had something to say about it.
I started taking my prenatals, gave up all caffeine (including my beloved Pepsi), drinking as much water as I could, getting as much rest as I could, and reading every book about pregnancy I could get my hands on. I was on every website, subscribed to every magazine, and "window" shopping online all day long. I sat and daydreamed and picked out baby names all day. I was so excited.
Every doctor's visit went perfectly. I was dealing with "morning" (have NO idea why it's called that) sickness and serious heartburn up until about 12 weeks, but after that point, things couldn't be better. Believe it or not, I started needing maternity clothes at about 3 months, but to most people I didn't start showing until about 4.5 months. I was loving all the attention and extra things people were doing for me. I was so proud of my mommy tummy.
My mom had come around and caught the excitement bug that was going around and we started stocking up on everything like baby wash, wipes, powder, and other stuff. Then we got to do the fun part, picking out the furniture and registering everywhere.
The week of June 13th, I was scheduled to go for my ultrasound to determine the baby's gender and to make sure my due date was accurate (November 9th). The weekend before was uneventful, mostly spent lounging around and doing light housework. The morning of June 12th, my whole world was turned upside down.
I woke up at my usual time in the morning to find that the shorts I slept in were soaked. I usually sweat when I sleep so that was all I assumed it was until I went to the bathroom and say drops of blood on the toilet paper. It wasn't very much, but I went into panic mode instantly. I ran back in the room and grabbed the phone and called my doctor's office. They told me to lie down with my feet up until they called me back. I jumped in the shower for like 2 seconds until my doctor called back and told me to come in.
When I got there, they turned on the ultrasound machine and I just closed my eyes and prayed that my baby was okay. When I looked, as usual he was moving and twisting and turning all around, movements I had only just begun to feel a few days before (I swear he looked like a world champion swimmer in there!!). My doctor told me she thought he was a boy since he was playing with himself and we saw what looked like a little turtle head, but we would have to wait for the "official" ultrasound to confirm it. She said that everything looked okay with him, and that she was going to check me and make sure I was okay. Within minutes of my doctor putting in the speculum, I heard her say "uh-oh". That is a phrase no one ever wants to hear in the doctor's office. She quickly explained to me that my membranes were bulging and they were going to have to send me to labor and delivery right away because it looked like the baby was coming.
I couldn't stop crying, I couldn't believe what was happening. Things started happening so quickly from that point on. I was wheeled over to get the advanced ultrasound performed. At some point while I was getting a sonogram, one of the nurses called my mom and told her to come right away. The neonatologist reviewed the ultrasound photos with me. First he confirmed that they baby was most certainly a boy and explained that my cervix was about 3 cm dilated and they believed that I was going to go into labor at any moment. They also told me that they suspected the baby had down syndrome. They told me that they wanted to perform an amniocentesis to check for two things; one, that an infection hadn't caused me to go into pre-term labor and two, to check for chromosomal abnormalities. After he left to give me a moment to digest everything that was going on, my mom arrived. When I saw her I just broke down. I seriously felt like I was going crazy. My mom remained calm but I could tell she was upset also. I consented to the amnio because I wanted to be sure that my son wasn't being subjected to any unnecessary sickness and suffering while he was inside of me. They also wanted to inject a blue dye into the amniotic fluid and for me to wear a tampon so that they could be certain I was leaking amniotic fluid and not any other type of fluid.
The next few days were agonizing. I was admitted to the hospital on strict bedrest. Every 4 hours I had to have my temperature and blood pressure checked to be sure that I wasn't showing signs of an infection. I couldn't sleep because I was almost overcome with fear and worry. I made it past the initial 48 hours that they were almost certain I would deliver in, but almost everyday I was bombarded with negativity from doctors and nurses. At one point a nurse went so far as to tell me that were only listening to my son's heartbeat to make sure that he hadn't died yet. They kept telling me that if he was born, there was nothing that anyone would do for him because of the fact that I was only 20 weeks along. I was so angry. In this day of supposed advanced medical technology, nobody was going to help my baby?!? What had we done wrong? I felt like God was punishing me for every "bad" thing I had ever done in my life. I just kept praying and asking him to please spare my son and I would "right" all the wrongs and do whatever I had to do for him to make it.
To wrap things up, I was discharged from the hospital on Friday, June 16, 2006 after 5 days of being told that no one was doing anything for me and they weren't going to do anything for my son unless by some miracle I was able to stay pregnant for at least another three weeks. I went home with orders of strict bedrest again. At some point over the weekend, I started bleeding. Sometimes it was clots, other times just spotting. I decided I didn't want to go to the hospital. I just kept believing that Brady (we had named him by this point) was going to be able to hang on for those critical three more weeks and I didn't want to hear otherwise. On that Wednesday, I was asked to come back to the hospital for an ultrasound to check on Brady. He still looked beautiful and perfect to me and was still active as ever. When the doctor came in he told me he had good news and bad news. The good news was that the results of the amnio came back, and my Brady was just as perfect as he appeared to be. There was no infection, and no chromosomal abnormalities. The bad news was that although my cervix hadn't dilated any further, Brady's foot had come through it and there was more fluid in the membranes that were in my vagina than was actually around him.
I returned home that day slightly discouraged, but hopeful that Brady would somehow know that I needed him to get his tiny, perfect little foot from out of there. Within a couple of hours of being home, I was napping when I felt a huge gush of fluid and I knew my water had broken. A few minutes after that, I began having frequent contractions. I was taken back to the hospital via ambulance. When I arrived, they asked about the frequency and duration of the contractions and told me I was about 6 cm dilated. All I remember is screaming for them to give me something to stop the labor because I didn't want them to have my baby. I looked up at my mother and asked her to please not let them take Brady. They did another ultrasound and told me that they were sorry, but there was no fluid around the baby. I didn't know at the time, but Brady's little heart had stopped beating by then. I was wheeled to a delivery room and given pain medicine which cause me to go in and out of consciousness. I still felt the contractions, just less intensely. I was also given Pitocin because, as explained by the doctor, they wanted to make my contractions strong enough to deliver "everything" at the same time. At some point, I woke up when I felt extreme pressure in my back that was only relieved by me bearing down.
I said hello and goodbye to my beautiful angel at 12:15a.m. Thursday, June 22, 2006. When the nurse handed him to me, it was the most happy and sad moment of my life all at the same time. My mom and one of my sisters was there the entire time, and they also got to hold and kiss him goodbye. I couldn't believe it was all over so soon. It seemed like just yesterday that I saw those two pink lines on the test, and my Brady was gone already.
Things after that are pretty much a blur. I signed a bunch of papers and consented to having Brady's pictures taken. At some point, the medicine kicked in again and I went to sleep. It was so hard leaving the hospital the next day, I wanted to run through the hallways and find my Brady and protect him and keep him safe, but I couldn't.
I shared my story with all of the details in the hope that some mommy who is blaming herself or feeling guilty will begin to understand that some things, most things in fact, are out of our control and are a part of God's plan. I will never understand why any of this has to happen to anyone, but what I compare it to is trying to understand why innocent children are hurt everyday. Thank you so much for the support and encouraging words, you all are in my thoughts and prayers.
Bianca
brady-eugene.memory-of.com
Just as sooo many of us, I never heard of IC, and therefore never knew to be the slightest bit concerned or worried about it. Like many women who read, all I knew was that once I made it past the first trimester, I was pretty much "in the clear". If I only knew then what I know now.
I found out that I was pregnant on March 17th 2006. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. After I got over my initial shock, my next reaction was fear. The baby's father and I weren't in any kind of committed relationship to be perfectly blunt, and I had no idea how he would respond. To my surprise again, he was happy and excited. I was glad that he was happy, although truthfully his reaction would not have influenced my decision about whether or not to keep the baby. I always knew that if I got pregnant, I would keep my baby regardless. So, at that point we were on our way.
I decided that I wouldn't tell my family until I had gotten the "official" confirmation from my new doctor. So, on April 4th, I went it to see my doctor. I did all the initial paperwork and bloodwork and then I went into the exam room and got undressed. I wasn't sure what for, but I went along with it. I saw the doctor turning on the ultrasound machine and I was surprised, I had no idea that I would get a look at the baby this soon. When I saw him on the screen I cried because I couldn't believe that this beautiful formation of life was going on inside of me. It was really and truly a poetic moment, and from then on I was truly in love. When I went home that day, I couldn't stop looking at his picture and I told my family. It seemed like everyone was in a state of shock, except for my baby sister (who's not really a baby, she's 18). She started jumping around and was so happy! My mother, of course, wanted to know about his father and how certain I was about my decision. I reassured her that this was MY baby and whoever chose to be around or not be around, that was up to them, but my baby wasn't going anywhere if I had something to say about it.
I started taking my prenatals, gave up all caffeine (including my beloved Pepsi), drinking as much water as I could, getting as much rest as I could, and reading every book about pregnancy I could get my hands on. I was on every website, subscribed to every magazine, and "window" shopping online all day long. I sat and daydreamed and picked out baby names all day. I was so excited.
Every doctor's visit went perfectly. I was dealing with "morning" (have NO idea why it's called that) sickness and serious heartburn up until about 12 weeks, but after that point, things couldn't be better. Believe it or not, I started needing maternity clothes at about 3 months, but to most people I didn't start showing until about 4.5 months. I was loving all the attention and extra things people were doing for me. I was so proud of my mommy tummy.
My mom had come around and caught the excitement bug that was going around and we started stocking up on everything like baby wash, wipes, powder, and other stuff. Then we got to do the fun part, picking out the furniture and registering everywhere.
The week of June 13th, I was scheduled to go for my ultrasound to determine the baby's gender and to make sure my due date was accurate (November 9th). The weekend before was uneventful, mostly spent lounging around and doing light housework. The morning of June 12th, my whole world was turned upside down.
I woke up at my usual time in the morning to find that the shorts I slept in were soaked. I usually sweat when I sleep so that was all I assumed it was until I went to the bathroom and say drops of blood on the toilet paper. It wasn't very much, but I went into panic mode instantly. I ran back in the room and grabbed the phone and called my doctor's office. They told me to lie down with my feet up until they called me back. I jumped in the shower for like 2 seconds until my doctor called back and told me to come in.
When I got there, they turned on the ultrasound machine and I just closed my eyes and prayed that my baby was okay. When I looked, as usual he was moving and twisting and turning all around, movements I had only just begun to feel a few days before (I swear he looked like a world champion swimmer in there!!). My doctor told me she thought he was a boy since he was playing with himself and we saw what looked like a little turtle head, but we would have to wait for the "official" ultrasound to confirm it. She said that everything looked okay with him, and that she was going to check me and make sure I was okay. Within minutes of my doctor putting in the speculum, I heard her say "uh-oh". That is a phrase no one ever wants to hear in the doctor's office. She quickly explained to me that my membranes were bulging and they were going to have to send me to labor and delivery right away because it looked like the baby was coming.
I couldn't stop crying, I couldn't believe what was happening. Things started happening so quickly from that point on. I was wheeled over to get the advanced ultrasound performed. At some point while I was getting a sonogram, one of the nurses called my mom and told her to come right away. The neonatologist reviewed the ultrasound photos with me. First he confirmed that they baby was most certainly a boy and explained that my cervix was about 3 cm dilated and they believed that I was going to go into labor at any moment. They also told me that they suspected the baby had down syndrome. They told me that they wanted to perform an amniocentesis to check for two things; one, that an infection hadn't caused me to go into pre-term labor and two, to check for chromosomal abnormalities. After he left to give me a moment to digest everything that was going on, my mom arrived. When I saw her I just broke down. I seriously felt like I was going crazy. My mom remained calm but I could tell she was upset also. I consented to the amnio because I wanted to be sure that my son wasn't being subjected to any unnecessary sickness and suffering while he was inside of me. They also wanted to inject a blue dye into the amniotic fluid and for me to wear a tampon so that they could be certain I was leaking amniotic fluid and not any other type of fluid.
The next few days were agonizing. I was admitted to the hospital on strict bedrest. Every 4 hours I had to have my temperature and blood pressure checked to be sure that I wasn't showing signs of an infection. I couldn't sleep because I was almost overcome with fear and worry. I made it past the initial 48 hours that they were almost certain I would deliver in, but almost everyday I was bombarded with negativity from doctors and nurses. At one point a nurse went so far as to tell me that were only listening to my son's heartbeat to make sure that he hadn't died yet. They kept telling me that if he was born, there was nothing that anyone would do for him because of the fact that I was only 20 weeks along. I was so angry. In this day of supposed advanced medical technology, nobody was going to help my baby?!? What had we done wrong? I felt like God was punishing me for every "bad" thing I had ever done in my life. I just kept praying and asking him to please spare my son and I would "right" all the wrongs and do whatever I had to do for him to make it.
To wrap things up, I was discharged from the hospital on Friday, June 16, 2006 after 5 days of being told that no one was doing anything for me and they weren't going to do anything for my son unless by some miracle I was able to stay pregnant for at least another three weeks. I went home with orders of strict bedrest again. At some point over the weekend, I started bleeding. Sometimes it was clots, other times just spotting. I decided I didn't want to go to the hospital. I just kept believing that Brady (we had named him by this point) was going to be able to hang on for those critical three more weeks and I didn't want to hear otherwise. On that Wednesday, I was asked to come back to the hospital for an ultrasound to check on Brady. He still looked beautiful and perfect to me and was still active as ever. When the doctor came in he told me he had good news and bad news. The good news was that the results of the amnio came back, and my Brady was just as perfect as he appeared to be. There was no infection, and no chromosomal abnormalities. The bad news was that although my cervix hadn't dilated any further, Brady's foot had come through it and there was more fluid in the membranes that were in my vagina than was actually around him.
I returned home that day slightly discouraged, but hopeful that Brady would somehow know that I needed him to get his tiny, perfect little foot from out of there. Within a couple of hours of being home, I was napping when I felt a huge gush of fluid and I knew my water had broken. A few minutes after that, I began having frequent contractions. I was taken back to the hospital via ambulance. When I arrived, they asked about the frequency and duration of the contractions and told me I was about 6 cm dilated. All I remember is screaming for them to give me something to stop the labor because I didn't want them to have my baby. I looked up at my mother and asked her to please not let them take Brady. They did another ultrasound and told me that they were sorry, but there was no fluid around the baby. I didn't know at the time, but Brady's little heart had stopped beating by then. I was wheeled to a delivery room and given pain medicine which cause me to go in and out of consciousness. I still felt the contractions, just less intensely. I was also given Pitocin because, as explained by the doctor, they wanted to make my contractions strong enough to deliver "everything" at the same time. At some point, I woke up when I felt extreme pressure in my back that was only relieved by me bearing down.
I said hello and goodbye to my beautiful angel at 12:15a.m. Thursday, June 22, 2006. When the nurse handed him to me, it was the most happy and sad moment of my life all at the same time. My mom and one of my sisters was there the entire time, and they also got to hold and kiss him goodbye. I couldn't believe it was all over so soon. It seemed like just yesterday that I saw those two pink lines on the test, and my Brady was gone already.
Things after that are pretty much a blur. I signed a bunch of papers and consented to having Brady's pictures taken. At some point, the medicine kicked in again and I went to sleep. It was so hard leaving the hospital the next day, I wanted to run through the hallways and find my Brady and protect him and keep him safe, but I couldn't.
I shared my story with all of the details in the hope that some mommy who is blaming herself or feeling guilty will begin to understand that some things, most things in fact, are out of our control and are a part of God's plan. I will never understand why any of this has to happen to anyone, but what I compare it to is trying to understand why innocent children are hurt everyday. Thank you so much for the support and encouraging words, you all are in my thoughts and prayers.
Bianca
brady-eugene.memory-of.com
