Physical Trauma

Warning: This episode of my story is not for those who do not want to hear all about “female things”, it’s not pretty…You’ve been warned.

Conveniently, the procedure had happened on a Thursday, so by Sunday I was feeling fine and was able to do my regular routine. Oddly on Monday, in the very early hours I was having some really heavy cramping and the bleeding had increased….hmmmm. I told hubby about it and he said he would go get some pads for me (of course I was out) after I took the kids to school (I figured I could handle the 10 min. roundtrip to get the kids there).

Our usual morning routine for school, was eat, brush teeth and drive 10 mins. down the road to school. I went to the bathroom before leaving…just to check on the bleeding…it was heavier, hmmm strange. BTW, I was totally out of pads, but didn’t think I’d need anymore, since all the bleeding had stopped. By the time I got in the car to drive the kids to school. I could tell I was having a problem after we had driven about a mile. There was this huge pressure in my nether region. You know, when something wants to come out, but you’re desperately trying to hold it in, wink, wink. I get to school and drop the boys off…it’s car to door service, so I don’t ever have to get out of the car.

I call hubby and tell him, I can’t wait until later for him to go get something, I’ll just swing by the grocery store on my way home. I get to the parking lot, park and get out of my car. Standing up was my mistake! Everything comes out. Note to the men: graphic language here, sorry. I figure the store’s empty I can run in, pay self serve and run out. I walk into the store and feeling a big gush I look down to see I’m leaving a trail of blood on the floor behind me. Now let me just state that I am not dizzy, light headed or pale. So I know I’m not hemorrhaging. I’m just completely embarrassed. I turn around quickly and leave the store. I call hubby and catch him up on what’s going on. Now try to understand that I can tell this isn’t just a “flow”, there are clots releasing themselves from me to come out. It only takes me 4 mins. to get home. By this time I have bled through my pants, onto the car seat cover (get ‘em) and need to get in the shower immediately!

Meanwhile, I tell hubby call my Dr.s office to report what is going on, because I have no idea WHY this is happening. As I get undressed I see these large clots and have to dump them. I jump in the shower and can feel more things coming! I have to yell at hubby to bring me a bowl so I have a way to collect and dump all the “chicken innards” coming out of me. That’s what it looks like, and I have to say, I’m getting a little freaked out! What the fuck is going on. Everything was fine. I can tell there’s no baby in this stuff, but seriously WTF!!!

The nurse gets on the phone with me, and I explain what’s been happening for the last hour, now. She says come in right away and they’ll look. Oh great, I get to pick new pants to bleed through. So quickly I get dressed, wrap a beach towel around me, and drive to the office. Oh get over it, of course I could drive. Remember, there are 2 little one’s home still.

To make this long story a little shorter…the clots have stopped at this point, and the bleeding goes back to it’s very minimal amount that it had been prior to this morning.

It turns out fibroids are tricky little suckers. They can bleed on you. So after my DNC the fibroid had bled, pooled because I was lying down for a couple days, and then needed to expel itself.

Next time: The emotional damage.

Not a Celebratory Anniversary

I’m coming up on an Anniversary. It isn’t one I’ll celebrate, but it is one that I’ll always hold in my heart. November 26th is the one year Anniversary of my one and only lost (as in no longer pregnant) baby.

I was 12 weeks along and was going in for a diagnostic sonogram because I was measuring 4 wks. larger than my gestational period. This was normal for me ever since I became pregnant with baby #2 when I developed a fibroid. Fibroids will enlarge due to hormones during pregnancy, and shrink back down after birth. For me, it never caused any problems except the oh-look-she’s-4 months-pregnant (when in reality I was only 3) stares, and necessary early maternity clothes. To top it all off I carry big anyway. Go ahead, laugh.

So to me this was just another sonogram to see how large the fibroid was, and make sure everything was fine. I had had a previous sonogram the month before, just to date the pregnancy officially, and due to my AMA (advanced maternal age), see how everything looked.

Yes, just 4 weeks prior, the baby’s heartbeat was “strong” and we looked good to go!! But, on November 26th after I hop up on the table, and she turned the machine on – with sound- I saw and heard a flat-line, under the picture of the baby. I can’t explain it but even though I knew what it meant, I instantaneously pushed that thought away and rationalized that she was checking the blood flow in the cord, or something like that. I didn’t say anything. She didn’t say anything. I didn’t look at her. She quickly turned the sound off. But I knew. I waited. I waited for her to tell me everything was fine. I waited for her to start taking measurements. I waited for something, anything.

After about 3 minutes I just looked at her and said “There’s no heartbeat is there?” She said “No Sweetie, there isn’t.”

I laid there quietly. Still. Hardly breathing. I still thought the baby would suddenly move around…like it had been holding it’s breath. Not dead. It couldn’t be. I’ve never lost a baby. 4 pregnancies…4 babies. This was number 5, why would it be any different? But it was.

I managed to hold it together, throught the measuring and chronicling of the baby. All I really wanted to do was run out of there screaming No, No, No.

Luckily my preferred Dr. was in that office on that day. I got to see him, which was some comfort since we have a history. We talked about the options of what to do, why it happened and how to proceed.

Mind you, I’m still holding it together. My Dr. handles everything, and I am free to go. Until I see him in another 2 days for the DNC. I get in the parking lot, pull out my cell and call hubby. Instantly, this is when I lose it. Completely. I’m amazed he understood anything I said. Although, when your wife is calling you after a sonogram appt. and she’s hysterical, you pretty much know it’s not good.

Come back as I share more of the details on what went wrong…so very wrong.

Sweet, sweet baby girls

Hi folks, Kelly here. Mom seems to be up to her eyeballs with homework, cooking, cleaning and trying to keep her sanity. Somehow she seems to think we all have a hearing problem.

Well, at least the boys do...not me :) I'm an angel, sent from up above! I never get into trouble or mischief! For those of you not aquainted with the lovely sweet nature of a baby girl, let me fill you in. We only shriek when we need something. We only throw a hissy fit when we need something. We only take all our clothes and diaper off (like Houdini) and run around naked when we feel like it. And can I just tell you how much FUN it is! I mean really...the birthday suit is just so freeing! I love to run and laugh and giggle while my mom pulls out her hair. Don't worry though, those spots are starting to grow back in:)


No, if you haven't had a sweet little girl baby in your casa, I suggest you beg, borrow or steal to get one of us! Well, not the steal part.

xoxo ~Kelly

Bye, Bye Baby!

Let me start by saying, that I was totally prepared to send Miss Kelly off to College with her “Paci”. You know…binky, paci, lovey, num num (don’t ask, but I think a name like that has to do with you not being able to understand a word they say with that darn thing in their mouths!), whatever you happen to call it.

I have fondly known it as the item that ruins all pictures. It’s the tiny little thing that gets my heart racing, if I don’t readily see one available. I had quietly accepted, that my daughter’s dependence was way beyond the rational needs of “Honey you’re 25, don’t you think it’s time to give up the paci”? I had already started researching for 12 step programs. Talking to other mommy’s of “addicts”.

All that said…drum roll please, the dreaded “paci” is gone. Yes, gone! Kaput, nil, lost to all eternity, never to be seen again. I don’t really know how we managed to get our whiny, tempermental, big attitude little miss to give it up and not even cry one night.

What had been happening, as of late, was that she had been chewing holes in the silicone part of the pacifier. Now that she has molars, this had become the chew toy. Not the sucking, comforting aid it was originally used as. So after the need for replacements coming faster and faster, I decided I would make her start throwing them out herself after she had chewed the holes in them.

So a few weeks ago, Little Miss had to throw away the paci she had been walking around with into the kitchen trash. No fit…things looked good. That night as I was putting her in her crib with her blanky, she asked for “paci”. I calmly and oh so innocently said “Oh honey, there is no more paci, it had to go in the trash. Remember ?!?”

I waited. I waited for what I knew was coming…an all out fit of rage and terror, shock and awe, she was gonna blow!

But, she just said “trash? I put it in trash?” “Yes” I said, “yes you did”. “Oh, o.k.” And on we went with the rest of our “night-night” routine.

It has since been a couple of weeks since we said goodbye to the paci. She has asked a few times, almost inquisitively, about her paci…but it just takes a gentle reminder of “there are no more paci’s” and she is content.

Now here's my little secret. I am like a smoker who just quit smoking, I still haven’t quite gotten rid of “my stash”. So for the love of all that is peaceful and holy in my house...don't tell her!

xoxo ~L