Primary diagnosis: dysfunctional placenta/partial detachment
Secondary diagnosis: parents with hearts broken so badly they don't know what to do except sob uncontrollably and just wait.
So, not the post I was hoping for. I'm 21 and a half weeks pregnant and I'm carrying a baby who will not live. You can tell I'm pregnant if you look at me, with my little basketball bump (similar resemblance to the one I carried with Gavin at this stage of pregnancy). I can tell I'm pregnant, feeling a little one squiggling inside me and all of the other accompanying body changes. But this pregnancy is very different than what I intended.
Yesterday, Brad and I had our second appointment with Dr. Balaskas, our maternal-fetal specialist. We were scheduled for an amnioinfusion (to replace amniotic fluid that's not there) and amniocentesis (for genetic testing). We walked into the appointment feeling very hopeful, certainly more hopeful than we felt when we first learned that something was wrong about seven weeks ago. We ended up spending three hours with Dr. Balaskas. He performed the procedure. Infusing saline into my amniotic sac allowed him to view things he couldn't see on our ultrasound two weeks ago, given the very low amniotic fluid.
Grim diagnosis. He suspected that my placenta may not be functioning appropriately when we first met with him. His suspicion was confirmed yesterday and then some. Typically in pregnancy, the placenta is fully "adhered" to the uterus. And the amniotic sac is also closely adhered to the uterus, creating a little pressure-filled environment in which baby thrives and theplacenta provides the necessary nutrients (and fluid) for development. What he found is that a portion of my placenta is detached, likely it never fully adhered in the early days/weeks of pregnancy when it was developing. This has caused the amniotic sac to not securely attach to the uterus.
Given this, when I was infused with saline, some of it temporarily stayed in the amniotic sac, suspending baby. But quickly, it diffused through the amniotic sac into my uterus (and ultimately out of me), allowing him to see for the first time on ultrasound the full story. Originally, two weeks ago, he suspected just placental dysfunction. He thought that continuous amnioinfusions may be an option to "full up the tank".
Now it is confirmed that I have placental dysfunction along with a partial detachment and an amniotic sac that is not working to keep fluid in. You can fill it up, but it will quickly empty back to it's original state. Needless to say, ongoing amnioinfusions are not an option. As I blogged previously, creating this fake environment of amniotic fluid was going to help Baby Clark's lungs develop more properly, in addition to helping prevent growth restriction.
We were told yesterday that our baby will not survive. Baby Clark's lungs will not be able to develop to a state that is compatible with life. I'm likely to go into preterm labor at some unknown point. It could be today, it could be three months from now. Alternatively, it is possible I will go in for a routine OB appointment and there will just be no heartbeat any longer. I will have a stillborn baby.
As you can imagine, Brad and I have hit an all time low. In one of my first blog posts on our pregnancy complications, I talked about the emotional roller-coaster. Well, the roller-coaster has parked itself at the very lowest point of the ride...and it's not moving. Over the past couple of weeks, I would have said optimistically that the roller-coaster was headed back up the hill. It's not.
Dr. Balskas assured us (again) yesterday that I did not do anything to cause this. This is a rare occurrence that spontaneously occurs in a very, very small number of pregnancies. Many women with this condition miscarry in their first trimester, maybe never knowing the cause. And it's not likely to reoccur, though we are awaiting the amniocentesis results which could reveal some sort of risk. Dr. Balaskas doesn't think the genetic profile will show anything abnormal, but it hasn't been ruled out yet.
Out of professional responsibility, Dr. Balaskas asked us (much more softly and kindly than what I type here) if we would want to end this pregnancy. Have an abortion. I very much understand he has an obligation to discuss this with his patients in our situation. But this is the point in the appointment that I began to sob the hardest. I tried to keep it together and just quickly said "no". He quickly moved on. The destiny of this child is not my choice. This is God's choice. I am an avid right-to-life supporter and being put in this situation first hand does not change my beliefs. As difficult as it will be, I will live every day with the unknown, not knowing whether God will take my baby that day. But I will not decide this for Him. He will decide.
I'm at a loss - so many questions. I'm over the "why me?" and the "this isn't what we had planned". I know those things are out of my control and only God knows the answer. I'm comforted knowing that this baby is in His hands. But I still have more practical questions, some of which just don't have definitive answers - How long will I continue to carry this baby? Do I have to live the next months feeling guarded, worried, apprehensive that at any moment my body will kick into preterm labor. I feel like a ticking time bomb. How do I go about normal things? I want to feel normal. Normalcy is so comforting. I want to do the things that I like - being a wife, being a mom, being a friend, going to work, enjoying the nice weather that is just around the corner...but I have this front of mind obstruction. Maybe this will get easier with time. I pray that it does. And what about our baby? Is he/she suffering inside this crappy environment my body has created? That is what I worry about the most. I'm so sorry it has to be this way Baby C!! We would have provided a wonderful life for you, one that every child deserves. And Gavin, oh Gavin, you would have loved him. He would have been such a good big brother.
How do I respond to questions from unknowing, good-intended individuals "Oh, you're pregnant. How exciting. When are you due? How are you feeling?". How do I answer that without coming off like a crazy, emotional basketcase. I've always thought of myself as being pulled together and professional...I don't feel those things at this very moment. I don't want to scare every person who asks me this with a reactive nasty response "oh, yes, I'm pregnant. I was very excited at first, but now I'm just scared and anxious, awaiting the death of my baby any day now. I'm due on July 20, but I probably won't carry to term, because as I mentioned, I'm just awaiting the death of my baby. How am I feeling? HOW AM I FEELING? Really, you're asking me this?" I don't want to be this person. Everyone is asking because they are genuinely interested and pregnancies and babies are generally such a wonderful experience. I know this first hand - I loved being pregnant with Gavin, every day of it. And really I have loved this pregnancy as just as much. I'm just, obviously, very saddened by the impending outcome.
So, that's my story. Sorry it doesn't have a fairytale ending.
Thank you to all of our blog followers - friends, family, strangers - for your outpouring of support. We could use your thoughts and prayers more than ever that "God grants us the serenity to accept the things we can not change, the courage to change the things we can, and the wisdom to know the difference". I need help with all of these things right now.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
In God's Hands
Posted by Erica at 7:52 AM
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8 comments:
Erica, I don't even know what to say to you. Except that you will still be in my prayers and thoughts. This is so sad and I am so sorry you and your family are going through this. God has a plan and I know he will take of you and the baby. If there is anything we can do we are here. Monique
I don't know if you remember me, we used to come to Meijer pharmacy all the time. Today your story was brought to my attention. It's crazy that Dr. B was my doctor as well. I am so sorry, my heart goes out to you with tears. We have been in a similar situation with our first born daughter, Aurora. It's better explained here
http://skyepraise.blogspot.com/2010/01/it-all-started-when.html
if you want to look. At 16 weeks our worst fears were confirmed, that she would either be still born, or not live long since her lungs wouldn't be formed. I know we don't know each other, but if you'd like to talk, I am here. I know EB and Krysia and we are all praying for a miracle at our bible study. Little baby Clark matters, and we will keep on praying.
Kelly Nickerson sethkellyelijah@yahoo.com
Argh, please forgive me. I've never left a message before and apparently it leaves a profile picture. It was hard for me to see pictures of babies at that time and I am so sorry if I have offended you.
Erica, words cannot express how I feel right now for you and your family. Please know you all are in my thoughts and prayers for strength and comfort.
Erica, I hope you don't mind. My sister passed thi son to me. I am so sorry to hear of the complications. It's hard to believe when you're at this point that there is a plan but there is. Be sure that you and Brad are there for each other and keep your communication open. It will make you stronger. Remember that your to rely on your support system and most of all PRAY.
Erica, I am so very sorry to hear this. May you and Brad rely on God and each other to get through the unbearable. Praying for you all.
Karen Dugan
Oh Erica and Brad,
I am so sorry for your sadness. God is still good even when we don't understand. I pray that you will feel his loving arms wrapped so tight around you right now that you can hardly breath. I will pray that He will give you what you need as you need it, and that His glory will shine through you to all the lives you touch. Let Dave and I know if we can do anything for you.
Sue Messner
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