Too Good to be True

In February, we got the O.K. to start trying again for our family. We had an appointment with Infertility on the 19th and that day was handed Clomid to start taking the next day. They had offered to let us do IUI (IntraUterine Insemination) that same month but with only having 3 minutes to make up my mind it was too much for me to handle so we decided to just go ahead with Clomid and would proceed with IUI next month if we did not get pregnant. So while we had hoped we would never have to do Clomid again, we ended up doing it. Clomid is what got me pregnant with Hudson and Emerson so we knew it had worked for us in the past. The week of Clomid is a week from hell...literally. It is so horrible and draining emotionally, physically and poor Morgan has a wife who is laughing one second to crying the next. Well, on March 14th, Morgan went to work and I picked up some First Response tests and when I got home from dropping him off decided to take one...it was positive. I was in shock and couldn't believe it happened this fast for us. I kept saying "it's too good to be true". I just couldn't believe it. So quickly I thought of a quick cute way to tell Morgan and sent him this: 

We were BEYOND excited that our dream was coming true this quickly and knew the boys played a part in helping us get there. We were ecstatic. I got my HCG levels drawn on Thursday to confirm pregnancy and they were at 15, that is low on the scale so I was told to come back Monday to re check them to make sure they were doubling. Saturday, I decided I wanted to take another digital test because the digital test I took Thursday had said "Not Pregnant" but all the other ones showed 2 lines and blood confirmed it. I waited and got ready, looked back and it showed "Pregnant", I was so relieved knowing that my levels had gone up enough to show positive on a digital test. Confident that my levels were doubling we of course had told family and close friends our exciting news. Not everyone appeared to be as excited as we had hoped for because now that we have gone through one tragedy, so many think it will happen again no matter what. We decided it didn't matter what everyone else thought because we were confident that everything was going to be OK with this pregnancy.

Today, Monday March 18th 

I went to get my levels re drawn and double checked and then got the news that confirmed my theory of "it's too good to be true". Instead of doubling, my number went from 15 to a 10. This is a sign of Chemical Pregnancy and that I will be Miscarrying soon. Now I have to go tell everyone that I have already told I was pregnant that this pregnancy is not viable and I am miscarrying. I think that is what I am most mad about. Morgan and I have decided nobody will know about our future pregnancies until we are out of the danger zone. As hard as it may be to keep it away from people, its awful going and telling someone who was excited for us (or not excited for us) that I will not be pregnant much longer. This afternoon I received a call saying that they will re-check my number on Monday and Tuesday I will have a follow up appointment with the head Dr of Infertility. Lets pray that either my numbers have skyrocketed or that there is a sac on the ultrasound on Tuesday and the numbers are just fluke. I am remaining hopeful. 

Will this ruin us? No. Will it break us down? No. Will it stop us from trying? Absolutely Not. Will we go in more hesitant next time around? Maybe. I don't want a pity party, I am so sick and tired of that. I know I am strong, because you know what? That is my only option. Possibly now 2 miscarriages and watching Hudson and Emerson die in my arms, will NOT stop me from trying. We want a family. We will have a family no matter how many times it takes to get us there, when we finally take our baby home for the first time, it will be the greatest day of our life. So please, just pray for us that someday we will have our miracle baby to take home but for now, just treat me like I am a normal person. 

3 Months

March 7, 2013
3 Months

I am tired. I am worn. I am sad. I am broken. I am hurt. I am struggling.
I don't know why things happen the way they do. I will never understand this. I don't believe that one day down the line I will say "So THIS is why I had to watch my own two sons die in front of me, to watch their hearts beat from normal to barely beating, to be able to do NOTHING to help them."
Today marks 3 months since the best and worst day of our lives and its rough.
I don't want to be strong anymore, I don't want everyone to think I have it all together, because I don't. On the outside all I hear is "you are so strong", that's a perception, an opinion, it is not a fact.
Do you know how broken I am? No. Not even I know how broken I am but constantly hearing "you are so strong" has screwed me up. Now I feel the pressure to constantly feel together and feel like I can't be negative even just one day because then it turns into "it's OK, you are so strong you will make it." It has been 3 months and people are still relating every emotion attached to me to the boys when it may have nothing to do with them. It gets tiring and I am tired. Nobody I know, has been through this. Nobody understands so stop pretending you do. Stop trying. I don't want you to know what this feels like. Maybe it would be easier for you but right now in this moment, I am worn and struggling. I don't want sympathy. I am tired of hearing the same things over and over again. Support is great and it is greatly appreciated but all I want is to have ONE DAY just ONE where I can say what I want and nobody gives me a pity party back.
Please, I am asking you, allow me to feel broken, allow me to hurt, allow me to be a complete mess without saying "you are strong" because when I hear that, I feel I have to show that and EVERYONE needs some time to just break down.

Our Beautiful Tragedy: Part 2

December 6, 2012
I had been in the hospital 5 days now. I had fought with my mom and Morgan to get out. I knew I needed to stay but at this point they had let me get out of the bed to go to the bathroom, so I thought if they are letting me do this, why can't I go home and be comfortable. I knew I needed to stay but REALLY didn't want to. The last 5 days consisted of me laying in a hospital bed with my legs raised and flat on my back. I couldn't even sit up except to take my meds and eat and then had to lay right back down. For a person who HATES sitting still, this was torture. Some may have called me selfish for feeling this way but I believe you cannot judge a persons actions until you have been in their shoes.

By this time, reality had set it. Emotions had been up and down the whole time of being there. Thursday was the day I knew was going to be my last day in the hospital. When your body starts changing and doing weird things, I knew it was happening. Thursday was a long day and Morgan came to visit me after he was off and I kept saying things just so he would stay longer. I knew. But he needed to get going home since it was around 8pm and Bentley had been outside all day. As soon as he left, I just had to make it through the night. Late that night, I knew I was contracting but didn't say anything until I started to really feel them. With my pain tolerance that's how you know I was contracting if I actually said something. Around 11pm they put me on the contraction monitor for an hour. Of course, I had figured out that if I lay on my left side, they would stop. So what did I do? Of course, laid on my left side while I was being monitored. Morgan needed sleep and I really didn't want to wake him up in the middle of the night.
(This isn't a joke, I really waited the whole night)

December 7, 2012
The nurses came in at 4am to do my vitals and check the boys heartbeats, they came in every 4 hours and the entire time I was there the heartbeats were in the 140's and 150's (perfect range). Why did I want them out if they were happy inside? I didn't. They came in at 5 to check on me and that is when I told them I was pretty sure my water broke and that things were happening. It took about an hour for them to really get things moving. I called Morgan at 6 and told him he needed to get here NOW. So he hurried out the door for work and headed to the hospital to be with me. He let his work know what was going on and of course they let him be with me. He was worried because it was supposed to be a very busy day. So of course I felt bad for this all happening then. Morgan got there and I was just about to be examined (yes, it took about 45 minutes for them to get a dr to me). At that point, I was dilated to 6cm and they could see my bag.
I got moved into a Labor and Delivery room about 20 minutes later and by the time they had someone come check my cervix, I was dilated to 9cm. I had 2 really sweet nurses who were so helpful. As soon as I got in there loads, and loads of paperwork started. You get told all these different people are going to be coming in and talking to you at some point during the day and you don't even realize half of what they are saying cause at this point, you know what is happening. You have to make decisions that you never in a million years thought you were going to have to make. My room was set up for the boys, there was a warmer, a nice area where they would give them their bathes, a nice bassinet set up and everything. I was comfortable and ready to face what was ahead. Then the nurse came in and told me they had to move me. I was devastated. I had these perfect nurses that were going to help me every step of the way and now, I was being moved. This was about the 5th time I had been moved since I got there. It was rough. The room they moved me into was a "special care room" ya know, the one with the sliding glass doors, half the size of a delivery room, share a bathroom with the room next door type of rooms. I was livid. I moved into this room that had NOTHING set up for a delivery, because it wasn't a delivery room. I got a new nurse who was not the right nurse for our situation. I was so unhappy. Here I am, about to give birth to my beautiful sons not knowing how long we were going to get with them and I am angry because of the nurse I had and where I was placed. I freaked out. I felt so defeated. I went from being in a delivery room, to not even having a warmer in my room. They never moved one into my room which had me feeling lost. The pain started getting stronger and my emotions started flowing...I needed to start pushing because I could no longer handle having the boys inside, I needed to hold them. They started me on Pitocin (which was HORRIBLE) and I honestly don't think they needed to give it to me. I pushed about 7 times and out came Hudson at 2:23pm. What I didn't know at the time was that Hudson wanted to come out hand first, they could see his hand coming and needed to shift him around. Once he came it was so hard for me to be really focused on him, I was so happy but was so scared he wasn't breathing. He was, it was the first question I asked. I knew I had to push again cause Emerson was still in there. I got the OK for them to break my water for him and Emerson was out in less than 2 pushes at 2:39pm. He was ready to join the world. Once they were both together, it was like they were together in the womb. They were in separate sacs but they fit together perfect. Emerson laid his head on Hudson's shoulder and they just worked. We had no idea what to expect when they were born. We were told that they may come out screaming, they may come out silent. They were silent which we were happy about. We never got to see their eyes since they never opened but I think they would have had Morgan's bright blue eyes. Emerson had Morgan's arms and they both had my nose. They had the most perfect hands and feet it was just so crazy. They were so tiny they both fit in the palm of Morgan's hand. For his first time ever holding a newborn baby, he held his two sons at once at their very most fragile stage. He was a natural. Seeing him hold our boys was one of the greatest moments of my life. We spent every moment we could with them. We watched their hearts beat in and out. The Chaplin came in and while they were in my arms, they were Baptized which was something we decided would be best. It meant a lot to us both. Shortly after they were baptized they came in and said they were going to take them for their pictures. There was a photographer at the hospital who does photo's for families who will be losing their child or children. It was something I couldn't say no to. Once they were taken out of the room, away from mommy and daddy, is when they passed away. We did not watch them take their last breath, we saw them breathing and happy in our arms. We cherish every second we got with them.

Hudson William and Emerson Joseph
Mommy and Daddy are so proud of you. You fought a battle as long as you could. You lay in our arms so peaceful and innocent. We will never in a lifetime forget the moments we shared with you as your parents. We love you all the way to heaven and back again.
You will always be our Forever Angels
Love Always and Forever,
Mommy and Daddy

Thoughts

While I am listening to One Big Kiss for Seattle Children's Hospital...it has me thinking. Once you have lost your own two sons you hope and you pray that nobody has to go through what we went through. What I keep hearing is how the Doctors there bend over backwards and do EVERYTHING they can to help each and every child. There are babies born premature that would have probably never made it had they not been at Children's. What breaks my heart, is knowing that with Hudson and Emerson there was no hope. The doctors looked at us and told us there was nothing they could do but at the same time their willingness to try was non existent. It wasn't there. Maybe what they could have done would have put me at risk for something but maybe it could have saved the boys, maybe they could have made it to 24 weeks. We will never know. But what hurts the most looking back now, is instead of a doctor trying, they walked away. I delivered and never saw the doctor again. I'm crushed.

Our Beautiful Tragedy: Part 1

December 1, 2012
The morning started out ordinary, I was ECSTATIC because it was our day to do our maternity photoshoot. I had felt a little crampy and just assumed it was my belly growing. We went to our photoshoot and loved every minute of it. (well ok, I did) Morgan cooperated even if he was sick. Morgan had an entire day planned out after pictures so we had Bentley with us for pictures and then were going to head off and I knew nothing. Earlier in the morning I asked Morgan if we could do his plan another day on the off chance we had to sit and wait too long at Triage. I was 19 weeks and 6 days, normally Triage won't take anyone unless they are 20+ weeks but I had been told by my OB to go in since it was twins. We went in and to our surprise there was nobody in the waiting room. Our thoughts followed with "Sweet, we will be in and out in 20 minutes". Wrong. 100% WRONG. That was when our lives changed in a matter of seconds.

I lay on the table with the Dr checking everything and is just about done when he says hes going to check one more thing...that one more thing was what showed him I was 3cm Dilated with a Bulging bag and contractions 2-3 minutes apart. As the Dr and Nurse started speaking a bunch of jibberish, I sat completely blank faced and speechless. I hear the Nurse utter out the words "This is not good, sweetheart" and that is all I remember. I looked at Morgan and hes trying to comprehend what is going to happen. I ask when I can go home (I HATE hospitals) the answer was very quickly, you won't be going home until after you deliver. Our options which were very slim were explained. They were going to admit me into Labor and Delivery and I would start Inosin (that may be wrong) to stop my contractions, we were told that anytime before 24 weeks there was nothing the Dr's could do to save Hudson and Emerson. After we were given a few minutes to process the information, I lost it. I really don't remember a lot of the day, or the days following. The words of encouragement from my Nurse Jamie (you will hear her name a lot) were what helped me stay positive. She told me that in this situation, staying positive and optimistic were what was going to help keep the boys in until 24 weeks. I was stubborn and determined to keep them in there, they were not coming out before then.

While all this was happening, poor Bentley was left in the car having no clue what was going on and no clue I would not be seeing him for a long time. Bentley is truly our furbaby, he is our life. I immediately knew that we could call our only friends in Virginia and that they would take great care of him while I was gone and Morgan was staying with me at the hospital. They came immediately to pick him up from the hospital and Laura sent me pictures so I knew he was ok. He had stopped eating about a week before I went in (doggy intuition) and she said the first thing he did was eat their dogs food. It made me feel ok but I was still missing him.

 *Bentley at his puppy friend's house, while I was in*

After things had calmed down and I had accepted that this was my new home for a while, Morgan called my Mom which was probably the hardest call he has ever had to make. She was on a plane 2 days later to be with me. She stayed with me so that Morgan could go get Bentley and remain some what of a normal life for him. Morgan fortunately worked at the hospital so he came to see me before work, at lunch, and before he went home for the night. It made a big difference. It started getting really hard the more days I was there not having Morgan able to be there too. My poor mom, as if the many years of me being a stubborn child wasn't enough, she now had to deal with me being a stubborn adult. Needless to say...I wanted OUT of the hospital. I was on complete bed rest with not even being able to get up to go to the bathroom, it was horrible BUT I knew I had to do it for our boys. The days were long and I just waited for the nights to know I was making it through one more day. I took things one day at a time and Morgan and I lived by saying "we will cross that bridge when we get there". Things were ROUGH. Morgan helped me stay strong, he helped me stay optimistic even when he knew I could be falling. He was truly my rock.