reece has no infection, according to the urine culture. i had to call the ER multiple times to get the result, but i suspected no abnormalities; they don't call you when tests are normal. this is NOT the result i wished for.
i've been avoiding dr. google (and the computer in general) since i saw blood, and i mean SOLID RED BLOOD, streaming from my son's...you know...weenie. i'd been suspecting it for a week or two before that; i think i thought i saw something maybe possibly in the toilet after i think reece went. then i forgot about it. then two fridays ago i saw it with my own eyes. i collected his next sample in a white mug and went to the ER. it was a good thing, as silly as i felt with a plastic-wrapped blood filled steaming mug of piss, because of COURSE, his clean-catch was yellow.
i made an appointment with the ped urologist, and we need an ultrasound. i taped up a sheet of paper and pen above the toilet so i can document every occurance of red pee, or, as reece puts it,
"MOM! my red smoke is coming out of my peen again!"
red smoke. i've asked him if it burns, hurts, tickles...i've pressed his back and belly and asked if it hurt. NOTHING. he's peeing a lot, i've noticed, but i suspect that is more out of curiosity than urgency. he wants to see the red smoke. it's fun for him; it's like a game.
IT'S NOT FUN FOR ME.
i don't want to know what else it could be, but i already kinda do. the infection would have been great. with this many obvious occurances of bloody urine, i think we are going to have to get a renal biopsy.
this could really, really turn out badly...and there's nothing i can do about it.
::::
the first appointment they gave me was july 20th. i called back yesterday and got an appointment for TOMORROW, friday. it's with a different doctor in the practice, but how much can i care about that? he's going for his ultrasound today and he'll see the urologist tomorrow. thanks for the kick in the ass.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Saturday, June 13, 2009
permission
reece peed blood yesterday. i collected some and took him straight to the emergency room, cause, you know, you never know. i've never been the rush-to-the-ER kinda girl, but since knowing babydeath, that's changed. shocker, right?
on the drive over, i started to feel funny. i'd made that drive (to the hospital and past it to many other places) but it felt different. suddenly i realized it would be my first time back in the ER since i went there to check on my non-moving baby the day before her due date.
when we walked in, i didn't remember the waiting room at all. did they take me from triage straight back into a curtained room right away? i can't remember.
they called us to the back, and lo! THE SAME ROOM. THE SAME FUCKING ROOM. room 7...not so lucky the first time. i was surprised to lose it. i've been really, really pretty good...i haven't cried in a long time. i looked at the tv and remembered watching survivorman, looked at the little bed and remembered laying there, uncomfortable. i remembered the l&d nurse coming in with the heavy-duty doppler and going over and over and over and over and over my huge belly looking for something...anything. i remember trying to hold on, i wouldn't let myself believe my baby was dead for a long, long while, probably the whole time in that curtained room. the more i remembered, the more the tears came- to the point i was scared that i wouldn't be able to stop when the doc came in.
i am really grateful for that cry.
the nurse came in, and when i looked at her face, i realized it was the same nurse. THE SAME FUCKING NURSE. she looked at me kindly and said, "i remember you."
she remembered me. she was part of it, one of the few. i go along daily, knowing that it happened to ME, that people don't dwell on someone who never really lived. we all know how it goes; we should be moving on, we should get over it, it's been a year and a half, we're talking about that again?? we also know that only people who never had a dead baby can actually believe that horseshit. that nurse, she wasn't scared to remember with me. i love her for that. she hugged me and let me cry and just, simply, let me remember too.
i'm really glad that i was able to go to that place. i've been thinking (worrying, a little) that i've buried paige and turned to denial. i've been thinking that maybe, underneath all of the getting-me-back action, i've been denying paige her place. how can you EVER be ok again after having a deadbaby if you don't just completely delete it from your life?
but...paige is there. she's always there. and that doesn't mean i can't live, too. i can let go of the alive her, and keep the dead her. and that's ok.
on the drive over, i started to feel funny. i'd made that drive (to the hospital and past it to many other places) but it felt different. suddenly i realized it would be my first time back in the ER since i went there to check on my non-moving baby the day before her due date.
when we walked in, i didn't remember the waiting room at all. did they take me from triage straight back into a curtained room right away? i can't remember.
they called us to the back, and lo! THE SAME ROOM. THE SAME FUCKING ROOM. room 7...not so lucky the first time. i was surprised to lose it. i've been really, really pretty good...i haven't cried in a long time. i looked at the tv and remembered watching survivorman, looked at the little bed and remembered laying there, uncomfortable. i remembered the l&d nurse coming in with the heavy-duty doppler and going over and over and over and over and over my huge belly looking for something...anything. i remember trying to hold on, i wouldn't let myself believe my baby was dead for a long, long while, probably the whole time in that curtained room. the more i remembered, the more the tears came- to the point i was scared that i wouldn't be able to stop when the doc came in.
i am really grateful for that cry.
the nurse came in, and when i looked at her face, i realized it was the same nurse. THE SAME FUCKING NURSE. she looked at me kindly and said, "i remember you."
she remembered me. she was part of it, one of the few. i go along daily, knowing that it happened to ME, that people don't dwell on someone who never really lived. we all know how it goes; we should be moving on, we should get over it, it's been a year and a half, we're talking about that again?? we also know that only people who never had a dead baby can actually believe that horseshit. that nurse, she wasn't scared to remember with me. i love her for that. she hugged me and let me cry and just, simply, let me remember too.
i'm really glad that i was able to go to that place. i've been thinking (worrying, a little) that i've buried paige and turned to denial. i've been thinking that maybe, underneath all of the getting-me-back action, i've been denying paige her place. how can you EVER be ok again after having a deadbaby if you don't just completely delete it from your life?
but...paige is there. she's always there. and that doesn't mean i can't live, too. i can let go of the alive her, and keep the dead her. and that's ok.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
through the paper towel tube
i went out on saturday night. it was a full-out get-ready-in-a-hotel, have a nice dinner, drink and shake-your-ass until 4am, gossip and listen-to-drama until 6am, sleep until check out and hope to god you can keep your sanity the rest of the day with the kids kinda night out.
it was a fun time.
(i felt stressed the second half of the night, wanting to go and sleep instead of stay out. i need to relax.)
i have lost a lot of weight. the IUD went in and the weight fell off; i've lost about 30lbs already. i'm happy about this, but there's this underlying feeling of desperation too. the time has finally come when i know...KNOW...that i will never be pregnant again, and there is no possible reason to be fat anymore. the last time i had a baby was a year and a half ago...and without even a baby to show for it, there's no fucking excuse to be fat.
the possibility of a pregnancy is gone, and with it, all my extra padding. this should make me feel good and proud or whatever, but it's really making my life feel very surreal.
as i waited in the bathroom of the bar, i looked at myself. "who the fuck are YOU?" i kept thinking. i am looking very much like i used to (FINALLY...it's only been 5 years...), but i'm not who i used to be. that juxtaposition of my image and my thoughts are just...weird.
i danced a lot. i turned down many guys wanting to "make out" (i didn't even know people said that anymore). i drank, but not too much, which is probably why i wanted to sleep. (note to self: get hammered next time, for christ sake!) i walked around, noticing getting noticed again. i wondered if it was how i looked or if it was something else: i am not as sad anymore.
i'm really not as sad anymore. the whole thing is starting to feel so far away. my surprise pregnancy, my dead baby, my infertility, my failed attempts for another baby. the QUESTIONS are gone. the possibilities, in that regard, are GONE. i know what is ahead of me, as much as one can, anyway. i know i will not have another baby. ever.
there are moments, though, when i see myself changing that i struggle with what exactly i'm feeling about it. am i really upset that i didn't get pregnant again? am i relieved that i didn't? am i happy? sad? do i finally feel in control, and if so, in a not-normal way? WHAT THE FUCK DO I FEEL?!? do i feel anything, really?
i'm not good at feelings; i'm good at taking action.
i am trying to find moments everyday that are really good. it's easy to feel frustrated and about to snap every fucking moment when you have three 4 year olds. i'm surprised at how many moments i was missing...calm, happy, content moments.
i can thank janis for this.
life is learning to let go. i'd been thinking about how 'old' i was feeling- emotionally tired. i was struggling with that concept when i read janis's post and it hit me: LIFE IS LEARNING TO LET GO. everything comes to pass. good things, people, places, things, expectations, feelings.
holding on to the past or future is not learning how to LIVE.
living is scary.
it was a fun time.
(i felt stressed the second half of the night, wanting to go and sleep instead of stay out. i need to relax.)
i have lost a lot of weight. the IUD went in and the weight fell off; i've lost about 30lbs already. i'm happy about this, but there's this underlying feeling of desperation too. the time has finally come when i know...KNOW...that i will never be pregnant again, and there is no possible reason to be fat anymore. the last time i had a baby was a year and a half ago...and without even a baby to show for it, there's no fucking excuse to be fat.
the possibility of a pregnancy is gone, and with it, all my extra padding. this should make me feel good and proud or whatever, but it's really making my life feel very surreal.
as i waited in the bathroom of the bar, i looked at myself. "who the fuck are YOU?" i kept thinking. i am looking very much like i used to (FINALLY...it's only been 5 years...), but i'm not who i used to be. that juxtaposition of my image and my thoughts are just...weird.
i danced a lot. i turned down many guys wanting to "make out" (i didn't even know people said that anymore). i drank, but not too much, which is probably why i wanted to sleep. (note to self: get hammered next time, for christ sake!) i walked around, noticing getting noticed again. i wondered if it was how i looked or if it was something else: i am not as sad anymore.
i'm really not as sad anymore. the whole thing is starting to feel so far away. my surprise pregnancy, my dead baby, my infertility, my failed attempts for another baby. the QUESTIONS are gone. the possibilities, in that regard, are GONE. i know what is ahead of me, as much as one can, anyway. i know i will not have another baby. ever.
there are moments, though, when i see myself changing that i struggle with what exactly i'm feeling about it. am i really upset that i didn't get pregnant again? am i relieved that i didn't? am i happy? sad? do i finally feel in control, and if so, in a not-normal way? WHAT THE FUCK DO I FEEL?!? do i feel anything, really?
i'm not good at feelings; i'm good at taking action.
i am trying to find moments everyday that are really good. it's easy to feel frustrated and about to snap every fucking moment when you have three 4 year olds. i'm surprised at how many moments i was missing...calm, happy, content moments.
i can thank janis for this.
life is learning to let go. i'd been thinking about how 'old' i was feeling- emotionally tired. i was struggling with that concept when i read janis's post and it hit me: LIFE IS LEARNING TO LET GO. everything comes to pass. good things, people, places, things, expectations, feelings.
holding on to the past or future is not learning how to LIVE.
living is scary.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
on being ok
today, it happened again.
one of those moments; a dead baby moment. a moment where i feel like a freak, not because my baby died, but because i'm the only one that can laugh about it.
(i know, right?)
we were at my sister's house, planning my nephew's 1st birthday party.
(we should have been planning for paige's 2nd at the same time, their birthdays only 8 days apart.)
elle, who was sitting on my sister's lap, threw her head back and said, "I DIED! I'M DEAD!"
(why is it always elle?)
i sat on the other side of the table and just responsively played in. "OHHHH NOOOO! MY BABY IS DEAD!"
when i realized what i said, i said, "AGAIN!"
and then started laughing hysterically.
my two sisters and brother-in-law sat there with their widest eyes. they had no idea what to say or do, which made me laugh even harder. i didn't know what to say either. all i could really think at that moment was
THIS IS MY FUCKING LIFE.
and i was ok with it.
one of those moments; a dead baby moment. a moment where i feel like a freak, not because my baby died, but because i'm the only one that can laugh about it.
(i know, right?)
we were at my sister's house, planning my nephew's 1st birthday party.
(we should have been planning for paige's 2nd at the same time, their birthdays only 8 days apart.)
elle, who was sitting on my sister's lap, threw her head back and said, "I DIED! I'M DEAD!"
(why is it always elle?)
i sat on the other side of the table and just responsively played in. "OHHHH NOOOO! MY BABY IS DEAD!"
when i realized what i said, i said, "AGAIN!"
and then started laughing hysterically.
my two sisters and brother-in-law sat there with their widest eyes. they had no idea what to say or do, which made me laugh even harder. i didn't know what to say either. all i could really think at that moment was
THIS IS MY FUCKING LIFE.
and i was ok with it.
Friday, May 22, 2009
she already is
i finally got my period again after two months. since the complete failure of the first IUD, i've been questioning the necessity of birth control. i mean, i can't get pregnant...but i did once. since the failed IVFs, i've felt released from the obligation to try, actually more like torn free from the possibility of having another baby. i tried everything, and none of it worked. i don't have to think about me, years from now, wishing i'd tried, because i would have assumed it would have worked (considering the awesome success of our first IVF) and i would have imagined the baby i would have had. i don't have to anymore.
that said, i still had thoughts of just letting it be. just living and whatever, without totally closing the door. the baby thoughts came back, the wondering, the undercurrent of will-it-or-won't-it-ever-happen anxiety...just in the space of the past two months.
i just can't do it; i can't live my life with that door cracked a hair. i imagine sending the kids off to kindergarten, going back to school, being satisfied with things again...and getting totally derailed by another *miracle.* it makes me feel like a complete control freak, like i only want another baby on my own terms...but really, fuck that. a girl can only take so much in this goddamned life, a girl can only control so much. me? i need to be finished. i am finished. i have triplets and a dead baby and nothing and no one is going to change that. i am done.
::::
to celebrate our ninth married year and the official end of our reproductive life, my period arrived just in time to get another IUD yesterday.
as far as i know, this one went in just fine and is, until further notice (ie: until i stick a finger up the ole puss) in place for pregnancy prevention. now we only need wait for this blood to stop flowing for some totally non-reproductive hanky panky!! (if you've ever experienced infertility, you know EXACTLY what i mean...)
::::
after the IUD was in place, the doctor (who is helping with the case against the m!dwife), told me there was another woman. there was another pregnant woman, at term, who presented at the same local ER that i did. she had bleeding, and the doc on call (unfortunately not my doc) performed an emergency c-section; it was placenta previa. she was under the care of the same m!dwife i was.
i know that the m!dwife does not send her clients for ultrasound unless the mom insists. did she know about the placenta previa? would that mom and baby have died at home if she went into labor BEFORE the bleeding?
i told the doc that she will soon have her license suspended as a result of the investigation i initiated. i told him that i wasn't happy with just a suspension, but hopefully the civil case will cause her malpractice insurance to drop her, causing her to either STOP TAKING ON CLIENTS or BECOME A CRIMINAL.
"she already is," he said.
she already is.
that said, i still had thoughts of just letting it be. just living and whatever, without totally closing the door. the baby thoughts came back, the wondering, the undercurrent of will-it-or-won't-it-ever-happen anxiety...just in the space of the past two months.
i just can't do it; i can't live my life with that door cracked a hair. i imagine sending the kids off to kindergarten, going back to school, being satisfied with things again...and getting totally derailed by another *miracle.* it makes me feel like a complete control freak, like i only want another baby on my own terms...but really, fuck that. a girl can only take so much in this goddamned life, a girl can only control so much. me? i need to be finished. i am finished. i have triplets and a dead baby and nothing and no one is going to change that. i am done.
::::
to celebrate our ninth married year and the official end of our reproductive life, my period arrived just in time to get another IUD yesterday.
as far as i know, this one went in just fine and is, until further notice (ie: until i stick a finger up the ole puss) in place for pregnancy prevention. now we only need wait for this blood to stop flowing for some totally non-reproductive hanky panky!! (if you've ever experienced infertility, you know EXACTLY what i mean...)
::::
after the IUD was in place, the doctor (who is helping with the case against the m!dwife), told me there was another woman. there was another pregnant woman, at term, who presented at the same local ER that i did. she had bleeding, and the doc on call (unfortunately not my doc) performed an emergency c-section; it was placenta previa. she was under the care of the same m!dwife i was.
i know that the m!dwife does not send her clients for ultrasound unless the mom insists. did she know about the placenta previa? would that mom and baby have died at home if she went into labor BEFORE the bleeding?
i told the doc that she will soon have her license suspended as a result of the investigation i initiated. i told him that i wasn't happy with just a suspension, but hopefully the civil case will cause her malpractice insurance to drop her, causing her to either STOP TAKING ON CLIENTS or BECOME A CRIMINAL.
"she already is," he said.
she already is.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
nine years
there are extremely few digital pictures; those were the days of the scanner. my cousin, who was studying biorobotics, had a digital camera. we were married by the mayor of the town, who died three months later. my youngest sister, who was to be my maid of honor, was in the psych ward for slashing her wrists three days prior. my very dear friend (the violinist), was pregnant at the time and had the baby at 32 weeks, spending weeks in the NICU. my nonna and nonno (grandparents) were visibly ill with colon cancer (BOTH, same cancer) and died a year later (5 months apart); they were diagnosed two months later. my mother-in-law, who had a tittie attack when we told her we were eloping to vegas to be married by elvis, HATED the wedding and complained about it until she friggin dropped dead (LITERALLY). we were planning a garden ceremony, it rained. i think more FUCK ITs flew out of my mouth that day than ever before (maybe not since). the objective, however, was met: we became husband and wife, for better or worse.
::::
i was 16 and he was 18 when we first dated. i had just turned 16, his last girlfriend was a stripper, and it was the summer before he went away to college. despite the obvious, we "fell in love." it lasted until thanksgiving. HA!
we had many mutual friends and ran into each other at parties occasionally; it always had that intense kind of right-person-wrong-time feel. a few times over the years we went to dinner and/or made out a bit, but ultimately i felt he was a big asshole and i swore i would cut my own throat before ending up with him.
i got married the first time when i was almost 21, and he attended the wedding. i found out years later that he was appropriately crushed...he went back to school to his senior dinner dance that night and escaped his girlfriend with a bottle of jack, not to be seen until the next morning, passed out on a different floor of the hotel.
two years later, he finished graduate school and i was separating. when we met up again, i couldn't believe how much he'd changed. no longer was he the asshole i loved to hate, or more honestly, hated to love (or whatever)...
the rest is history.
::::
when i think about who we were at that wedding, i can't help but laugh. GOD DAMN we had no idea what the FUCK we were getting ourselves into...and me, thinking i had done it before. HA! so naive, so clueless, so cocky.
our history is a treasured gift, the rock i lean on those mornings i'd like to stab his sleeping face. i choose to love him those days, i choose to love the things i don't like...i choose him and everything about him. that, to me, is love.
i can't believe everything we've endured to build this family. i can't BELIEVE we have a dead baby. together. i can't believe we have triplets. together. this is our life.
this is our fucking life and i choose to love it.
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