How Our Baby Grew His Wings

Nobody ever thinks to tell you what to expect when you miscarry. The doctors don't prepare you for what is about to happen, they do not tell you what your body is about to go through, and no emotional or physical support is provided. If you are one of the unlucky few to experience a first trimester or second trimester miscarriage, you are all alone. Unless there is complications, you are sent home to suffer in silence. This is the story of my first miscarriage, something that will forever haunt my memories.

March 2009. My husband and I were elated to discover that after the first month of unprotected sex, we had conceived the child we had dreamed together of for over three years. We were over the moon! Our dream was to come to full fruition on December 8, 2009. Those first few weeks of knowing I was carrying around our dream, the fulfillment of our love, was the most awe-inspiring experience. There was no hint that anything was wrong. We got a free ultrasound at a women's clinic since we weren't married at the time and I didn't have insurance. Seeing that tiny little flicker was breathtaking!!! I had never seen anything like that before. Morning sickness was more like all day sickness. I grew quickly, and everything looked great with baby Thelusma.

In June, my stepdaughter Izzy had to have surgery to remove a benign tumor that was growing on her butt. We checked into the hospital June 11, 2009. My heart broke for this tiny little six month old baby laying in her tiny little hospital bed. I had taken the day off from work to be there with her and my husband, as her biological mother didn't see the necessity in being with her daughter. Izzy's surgery went well, and they brought her out into recovery about five hours later. My husband and I took turns holding her, comforting her, and feeding her. She was covered in monitors and IV's! I remember thinking how small and helpless she looked. We both opted to stay in her room with her overnight, even though my husband tried convincing me to go home so I could be comfortable in our bed, but I told him its not comfortable sleeping anyway at 14 weeks and 2 days, so I wanted to stay with them. We layed together in a hard rubberized hospital recliner, dreaming out loud of when we would be back in the hospital to give birth to our special little baby. We spent the night rubbing my belly and talking to our little one, and making plans for the future that looked so bright. We discussed names, coming home outfits, what the nursery should look like, the fact we would need a bigger apartment, all of the things that come with an expanding family. We had no idea the tragedy, horror, and heartbreak the next two days would bring.

June 12, 2009. The morning after Izzy's surgery. I woke up early in the morning with pain and the feeling of being wet. I thought the pain was coming from ackward sleeping position I had spent the night in, and the wetness from all of the extra pregnancy induced CM. I stretched, kissed my husband good morning, and went and looked in Izzy's hospital crib to check on her. So peaceful and beautiful she was laying there! I walked into the bathroom down the hall as there wasn't a bathroom in Izzy's room, and was horrified to see blood. I started screaming and yelling for help, and a frenzied nurse rushed into the bathroom and asked what the problem was. I explained to her that I was a few days over 14 weeks pregnant, and I was bleeding. I sat on the toilet shaking, terrified, and wondering what was going on. A doctor agreed to check me, heartbeat was confirmed, and I was told I had a clot or a tear that had resulted in the blood loss. I was ordered to go home, stay on bed rest for a day, and if the bleeding didn't let up, to go see my doctor. We were told everything would be ok, I just needed rest, and to see my Dr in a day for a long term high risk pregnancy plan.

I went home, layed down, and my husband called to have a friend come watch Izzy and myself so he could go to work. When our friend came to pick Izzy up, I rode with her and Izzy to her house because I didn't want to leave Izzy's side. By the time we got to our friends house, I was in a lot of pain, to the point I was doubling over. I called my Ob/Gyn, explained the situation to the after hours nurse, who called the doctor I had seen at the hospital. I was told to stay home, stay laying down, and go in in the morning, that the pain would pass. I layed on the couch for a couple hours, communicating via text message with my husband. He was on duty on base, and couldn't come home to be with us. Seeing as we weren't married, his command didn't give him the same freedoms as a married man would have received. I started getting stronger pains, and I felt a rush of warm between my legs. The doctor at the hospital had warned me this might happen, as it was the clot passing completely out, so I walked to the bathroom to clean up so I could go lay back down. When I got into the bathroom, my heart dropped. Something told me this wasn't just a clot! My legs were covered in dark red blood, and more was gushing out. My stomach felt like it was being ripped away from my spine, and deep, stabbing pain rushed up my back. I felt like a searing hot rod had been shoved up into my uterus. Pain that took my breath away and left me gasping for air left me on my knees in front of the toilet, hugging the rim, crying and screaming. Our friend rushed into the room and looked at my blood soaked pants and demanded to take me to the hospital. For some reason, I told her to call my Ob/Gyn instead. The nurse had the emergency Ob/Gyn call me, and I was told I was miscarrying, to stay home as they couldn't do anything for me, but she would call in a pain prescription to the closest pharmacy and that I needed to call the next day and make an appointment for a follow up appointment to check for "retained fetal tissue." My friend asked if I wanted to go the ER, and I told her to just try to get my husband home. By this time, a good seven hours had passed since my official labor had started. I had no clue that this was just the beginning of the longest, hardest, stretch. I curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor, sqeezing my legs together, praying, crying, and hoping that this wasn't really happening. My friend convinced me to get into the bathtub for a while. I stripped out of my bloodied clothes and slid into the warm water. I could watch my stomach harden with each progressing contraction, and I had to keep emptying and refilling the tub as the water turned red. I stayed in the tub for about an hour and a half, then felt a sudden, extreme need to push. I was so weak from all the blood loss by then that I could barely get out of the water enough to squat. I started pushing, all the while in denail my precious baby was gone. I had just heard his heartbeat a little over ten hours earlier! This wasn't happening!!!! By now, the contractions had me fully in their grip. Each contraction would make my back curl up and I felt as if someone was pulling my insides out. I didn't think labor at almost 15 weeks would be so intense. My legs were quivering and I was seeing dark spots. I heard my husband's voice and looked up, desperate for his support and presence, and I saw our friend holding the phone out to me, a look of deep sympathy on her face. My husband was crying on the phone, telling me he wished he could be there, talking to me, comforting me as best he could. I was holding onto the edge of the tub, panting between contractions, hovered over a towel that was to catch my child. I felt a little pressure, and reached down to touch, and between all of the clotted blood, I felt a tiny shape. There was our baby. I felt sick to my stomach, turned my head, and vomited repeatedly all over the floor. This is not what we planned, this isn't supposed to be happening, our baby will NOT be born this way... I didn't have a choice. I don't remember actually pushing our baby out. I woke up about fourty five minutes later lying on our friends couch wrapped in blankets, and was told I had moved to the toilet, said I wanted to be alone, and at one point had flushed the toilet. A loud thump was heard, and I was found face first on the floor, no sign of my baby anywhere, except for the remaing placenta bits on my thighs and in the toilet. In my grief and without thinking clearly, I had flushed our child down the toilet. There was no going back, no undo, no getting our baby to bury and memorialize. I had passed out from the blood loss, and I would never remember the last few moments with my child, other than feeling him crown.

By this time, it was the next day, my husband was on his way home, and I was taken to the ER for an IV, ultrasound, pain medicine, and an exam. I was pronounced "OK" and told to take it easy, stay off my feet for a few days, and come back in two weeks for a follow up visit. My husband picked up my pain medicine, which was the beginning of a near fatal pain medicine addiction. That was the start of my living hell.

A day never goes by that I do not berate myself and question why I did what I did, what was going through my consciousness to cause me to make those decisions, but I know there is nothing I can do to change it. I wish things had ended differently. I wish I had better care. I wish I had delivered in a hospital room with my husband close by so I could have buried our child. Instead, I have to cope with the fact that I flushed my toilet. Even writing this, I am sick to my stomach and I feel as if I am the lowest scum on the planet. Grief causes us to do things we think we would never do. For a while, it almost split me and my husband apart, but it also brought us together. Now, almost four years later, I still regret how things happened that day, but I never remembered those final moments. Maybe that is a blessing in disguise, I will never know.

An Angel Mommy's Day in Hell

Today was a crappy day. Actually,
the last couple days have been. It
started yesterday. I started having
really intense cramps, from right
under my bellow button, radiating
left to right, so extreme that I
was doubled over in pain. Said
cramps continued on until this
morning... I'm on CD13, ovulation
isn't supposed to occur until
CD15, but so far, raised temps,
etc... This is my first cycle
since losing Amaris two months
ago, that I haven't been on birth
control... *sigh* This whole
journey is so emotionally
devastating... :'(

To top it off, today I had to go
to the WIC office, because it was
my next scheduled appointment. I
had called them when I lost Amaris
to see if they just wanted me to
come in then to close out my WIC,
but they told me to just wait
until my next appointment (today).
So, I go in, and the receptionist
was like, how's the pregnancy going?
I just looked at the lady... I was
158 lbs when I was 10 weeks
pregnant, with a VERY obvious bump,
and had been to the WIC office at
just over 9 weeks. I am now 144 lbs,
with a VERY flat stomach, and if I
was still pregnant, I would be 20
weeks and 3 days... Its kinda
REALLY obvious that I'm not
pregnant. I told the lady that I had
miscarried and was there to close
out my WIC. She told me I had to be
seen by a nurse first. I went back
and saw the nurse, who was very
sweet about the whole situation,
and asked me how I was doing, and
told me that I could stay on my
WIC for 6 more months, evem though
I miscarried. The only thing was,
I had to go through another
interview to get recertified. Ok,
I can deal with that. I go back out
into the waiting room until another
non-natal nurse could see me... I'm
sitting in this waiting room
surrounded by women and their
newborns and it was TORTURE. Finally,
 the nurse came and called me back
and I went into another exam room.
She had me sit down and told me she
had a list of questions. Great...
And this is where I got major
depressed. </3

She starting asking
me questions, how far along was I,
did I get an abortion, did I take
care of my body, did I want to be
pregnant, etc. I just looked at her
in shock. I told her, no, I did NOT
get an abortion, I lost my baby
due to a chromosome issue and had
to have a D&C, I took care of my
body, I took my prenatals, I went
to all my appointment, I wanted to
be pregnant, and I was in love with
my child. She was like, well, at
10 weeks, its not really a viable
pregnancy, so you didn't really
lose a baby, you lost a fetus. I
told her no, I lost my BABY. He was
a little tiny boy and we named him
Amaris Sage. She asked me how I knew
it was a boy, and I told her that
since he was my sixth angel after
five miscarriages, that my insurance
finally agreed to cover genetic
tests to see what was going on.
She goes, huh. SO all your pregnancies
have terminated? I told her yes,
all of my pregnancies resulted in my
babies growing their wings. She
asked me how far along I was with my
other pregnancies, and she told me
that all of my other angels weren't
"viable" either, since all but one
was in the first trimester. I was
getting so pissed off at this bitch
and starting to get really upset.
I was so mad and hurt that I started
shaking and my stomach was in knots-
I thought I was going to get sick.
Finally, after a few more minutes
of torturous questions and feeling
like I was being blamed and accused,
she took me back into yet ANOTHER
nurse's office.

The third nurse walked in, opened
my chart, and asked me why I got an
abortion. OK, WHAT THE FUCK. I told
her to get her fucking facts
straight, that I didn't abort my
child, and she goes, well, why did
the front nurse put it in your
chart that you did? So, I explained
yet AGAIN what happened to my
precious Amaris Sage, while she
listened. At the end, she just nodded
and said, huh, then proceeded to ask
me the SAME list of questions I had
just endured from the second nurse.
I started to cry as my heart was
hurting so bad that people thought
I would intentionally hurt my
precious baby boy... This was unreal,
I can't even begin to describe the
emotional pain I was in. She stopped
asking questions, and looked at me,
put her pen and chart down, and asked
me to talk to her about my Amaris
and my pregnancies. I did, I explained
my situation and story all over
again, and she touched my arm and
told me she was so sorry, she felt
horrible for making me suffer through
all that two times in a row, and
told me that she hoped they didn't
sound too insensitive, but that it
was a part of the screening. I told
her I didn't mind answering the questions,
but I hated being accused of
murdering the very child I love and
yearn for and miss every day. She
looked like she was going to cry as
she quickly filled out the rest of my
chart. She told me that I had her
sincere condolences and that she would
address the second nurse, after I
told her that I did't appreciate the
way she talked to me and about my
child.

I walked out of that office fighting
back tears. This world is so cold
and cruel and insensitive to a baby
loss mom. Doctors and nurses don't
communicate, health care personel
don't read charts thoroughly or fill
them out acccurately, and it results
in a lot of unnecessary questions and
pain to the mother. No one stops to
think what sort of pain and hurt a
simple question can cause, just
because they were doing their job.
Family members and friends just
give you a blank stare and wonder
why you're still upset and still
talking about the baby you will
never meet. Nobody knows how
to speak to a baby loss mom,
other than another baby loss mom.
Its hard enough, going through every
day without each of my precious
children, but its days like today,
and people like that second nurse,
that make me want to just lock myself
in my room and never come out. I miss
my precious babies so much, I wish
they were all here with me, but
instead they are all up in heaven,
watching over their mommy and daddy.

Tomorrow is going to be yet another
emotional day, as I go back to my
Ob/Gyn for the results of the latest
panel of blood tests that she had run.
I'm terrified, nervous, scared, and
just ready to have it over and done
with. This whole journey has been
filled with countless doctor's
appointments, blood tests, etc, but
the results I get tomorrow at my
appointment spell out what the future
holds for us, and whether or not
there is a rainbow baby in our future.
Wish us luck tomorrow, and pray
that I get through this appointment
without having a total anxiety attack
and emotional meltdown.

Sticky baby dust and floaty kisses
to all of my angel mommies and
their precious sky angels.  <3

Two Months Later

It has now been two months and two days since we lost our precious Amaris Sage on July 6, 2012. Sometimes, I feel like yesterday, I was laying in the hospital bed, getting ready to say goodbye to our precious baby. I am by no means "over" losing our baby, and I never will be. It hurts more than ever, realizing all the milestones I should be reaching in this pregnancy. As of now, I should be celebrating having just passed my 19th week in pregnancy, which would put me almost halfway through gestation. How heartbreaking is that to think about?! We should just now be announcing Baby Thelusma's gender after finding out via ultrasound, but instead we learned our precious baby was a little boy. How did we find that out since he was only 10 weeks at birth? By making a very heartbreaking decision to have his tiny remains tested. I felt so guilty making the decision to have my baby put under a microscope and dissected, instead of bringing him home with me to have a little memorial service for him. I feel disgusted reading the two papers the lab sent my doctor's office regarding my little baby. They were so cold and clinical referring to our child in terms that made my stomach churn. To help our pain just a little, we decided to name him Amaris Sage. Beautiful, right? Not quite as beautiful as all of the hopes and dreams that we had for him...

We did, however, get some answers from the genetic testing we had done on our tiny, innocent baby. We were told he suffered from a chromosome abnormality, caused by a maternal chromosome translocation, 21q22. Which, on one had, it brought some peace to know that there was nothing that we could have done differently to make sure our baby made it to full term, but on the other hand, it ripped my heart out of my chest knowing that my body was the reason we have lost six precious babies. It saddens me that our insurance didn't think chromosome testing was necessary before now. It makes me feel maybe we wouldn't have so many angels in the sky, if MAYBE one of our reproductive specialist had pushed harder to get our insurance to cover it. I can't sit here and think about maybes, what ifs, or should haves, or I will go crazy. I already feel horribly guilty, and blame myself for losing our precious babies. Is that irrational? Perhaps, but I can not help it.

I have an appointment on September 17th, for the results of the last panel of bloodwork that was run on myself and my husband. Nervous doesn't even begin to describe how I feel. I am terrified!!!!! I am worried that there is going to be more horrible news. I overthink every possibility, every diagnosis, every outcome that could occur. I will remain on pins and needles until I get those results.

The First Ten Weeks

Life changes in the blink of the eye, in a split second, all that we know to be true is being questioned as fiction or fact. Time stands still, and we are left with a decision to move forward and heal, or stay in the moment and pretend we are not hurting. For four long weeks, we have struggled with staying optimistic that our baby would be ok, that growth was just a little slow, but we would see a heartbeat, and on the other hand, resigning to a fate that we didn't want to accept. Its not an easy thing, getting ready to say goodbye to someone you've never met, and have only just seen on an ultrasound screen, but someone you love with all of your heart ♥

 

 

June 5th, 2012, we were elated to discover that after a long road filled with failed infertility treatments and miscarriages, we were naturally pregnant. I had a feeling most of May and June that I was pregnant. May 13, 2012, on Mother's Day, I felt such a strong peace and calm and I felt as if all of my precious sky angels from all of our previous pregnancy losses were trying to tell me something. I conceived ON Mother's Day... What were the odds? So, the week before I actually POAS (peed on a stick) and got the POSITIVE proof of our little miracle, I took a HPT (home pregnancy test) but it was negative. However, I did not get upset as I usually would with a negative pregnancy test, I somehow knew it was just too soon. A couple days later, I started to experience implantation bleeding and cramping. I was elated! This was our month!!! So on that following Tuesday, June 5th, I took a test at 10:30 am. The test instructions said to wait at three minutes before reading the results, but the test turned positive within seconds! This is it! This is FINALLY our turn!!! I was so excited and my mind began racing with how should I tell my husband? I thought about for a minute, and then I spotted a tiny little gift box. This is how I am going to tell my husband! So I placed the positive test in the box and tied it with a big bow. I nervously got dressed and called my husband to tell him to meet me on base for lunch at Subway. I was so excited! I could barely keep the excitement out of my voice as I talked to him on the phone! I got there and we sat down at a table and I told him that I had gotten him an early Father's Day present. He looked at me with confusion when I handed him the box and I watched with delight as he unwrapped the tiny little box. His face was PRICELESS!!!! As soon as he realized what he was looking at, he grabbed my in a huge hug and kept asking me if I was serious!!!! He wanted to immediately go to the doctor and confirm so after eating lunch, we drove to base medical to make an appointment for blood work to confirm the pregnancy. We had an appointment made for 1:00 p.m. so I went home to wait.. As soon as I got home, I was staring at the positive test and remembered that there was another test in the closet that was unused so with joyful abandon, I test on that one at 12:45 p.m. and wouldn't you know it? It was positive in seconds, too!!!! :) So happy!!!!!!

As we drove to medical, I was both nervous and excited. I knew it was going to be positive but I coudn't wait for the doctor to confirm that to us! We checked in and the lab technician took my blood and told us to have a seat in the waiting room and that we would have our results in about an hour. So we sat down and very impatiently awaited the doctor to give us the results. FINALLY! The nurse called our name and took us back to see Nurse Hixson who said, "CONGRATULATIONS, you're pregnant!" I was elated!!! Hubby just stood there smiling with this humongeous smile on his face-it was priceless!!!! :) Nurse Hixson started asking questions about dates to see how far along I was and what my EDD (estimated due date) should be.

According to my LMP (last menstrual period), I was 5w4d. So I called the office I had picked to be my prenatal care to set up our first appointment, Camden Ob/Gyn. I was so excited! And then they told me that they wouldn't see me until 8 weeks... Are you serious?! I just want to see our precious baby!!!!! Little did I know, that I would get that wish, just not in the way I was hoping for...June 5th, around 10:45 p.m., I started having sever cramping, and with our history of miscarriage, we decided to head to the ER to get checked to see if everything was ok. The ER doctor took a hCG BETA and did an ultrasound. The hCG BETA levels came back at 1,068, and a very small gestational sac was visible high in my uterus. The doctor tentatively told us that everything was where it should be that early in pregnancy, but diagnosed me with a threatened miscarriage and gave me strict orders to rest and go to my Ob/Gyn as soon as possible to get the hCG BETA and ultrasound repeated.

Our first ultrasound and hCG BETA at Camden Ob/Gyn was on June 7th at 5w6d. I chose April, a midwife, as my prenatal care provider. Our levels came back at 2,121, and a slightly larger gestational sac was visible.

We went back on June 13th, at 6w5d, for another ultrasound and hCG BETA. Our levels were at 8,962, and the beginnings of a small yolk sac was seen. We were told that at our next ultrasound we should be able to see a heartbeat. Some bleeding was spotted in my cervix and in my uterus, so April told me to take it easy and call if I spotted any bleeding or changes. I went home and made the decision that my baby came first so my life was going to be bed rest and limited activity from there on.

On June 20th, at 7w5d, we went back for our next ultrasound and hCG BETA. Levels came back at 25, 621, but no heartbeat and no fetal pole was seen. The yolk sac had gotten bigger and we were told the yolk sac was "abnormally shaped." The bleeding in my cervix and uterus was no longer visible, but it was reiterated to me to take it easy and call if any bleeding was noticed. I went back home to continue to take it easy and take care of my precious baby in my womb.

June 27th, at 8w5d, we went back for another ultrasound and hCG BETA. There was still no heartbeat or visible fetal pole, but some tissue in the yolk sac up by the placenta. Levels
came back at 31,304, which means that they aren't climbing as high as quickly as they were in the past. The Dr told us that there is a possibility that the baby has either been dead for a while, or just never properly developed. The Ob/Gyn gave us three different options. We couldn't believe what we were hearing... Juvins and I sat in the exam room and discussed our "options."
(A) Schedule a D&C immediately
(B) Quit taking the progesterone supplements to see if my body miscarries naturally
(C) Wait a week, do a repeat ultrasound and hCG BETA to see if something changed, if not, then we will have to choose either option A or option B.
 

We decided to wait another week. July 3rd, at 9w4d, we were back to see how Baby Thelusma was doing... We had an ultrasound that showed the placenta was detaching from my uterus and there was bleeding behind the placenta and way low in my cervix. There was some blood around our precious baby in the gestational sac. His precious little body was visible, you could see the tissue of his head down to his tiny little spine. My uterus was full of blood sitting everywhere. The yolk sac was immensely large and abnormally round. The hCG BETA results came back at 24, 621, which meant that slowly but surely, my levels were dropping and baby had no chance of making it. My midwife asked us if we were ready to make a decision, but at first we decided that we would wait another week. I guess at that point we were just weren't ready to accept that something terrible had happened to our precious baby. We went home and pretended everything was ok, and then I went to work, but while talking to Juvins, we decided that the best decision we could make, for my own health due to all of the bleeding, was to go ahead and schedule a D&C (dillation and cutterage). My husband called the doctor's office to set everything up for me and get as much info as he could. My midwife held us an operating room for Friday, July 6th. We didn't know what time our precious baby would be giving birth, but we knew he was growing his wings on Friday. It wasn't an easy decision to make, but I couldn't bear the thought of putting my precious little angel in any pain and keeping him from earning his wings and flying high with all of his brothers and sisters in the sky.

Thursday, July 5th, at 9w6d, we went back to Camden Ob/Gyn to have ONE more ultrasound, just for our peace of mind, to ensure we were making the right decision about our precious little baby. As a parent, how are you supposed to be able to determine when you want to let go of a baby that you have been fighting for, for so long? It was a very traumatic appointment. They walked us through everything that would happen on Friday and answered all of our questions and make us feel as comfortable as possible. The rest of Thursday just seemed to drag by... It was absolute torture! I knew we were faced with saying goodbye, but I wasn't ready. I don't think that is something you are ever "ready" for thought.

ANGEL DAY.

I feel like I am about to start bawling as I write the last day/chapter of my precious little angel. I didn't want to wake up Friday to head to the hospital. I wanted it all to be some sort of horrible dream or nightmare that today is the day my precious little baby is going to fly away from me. I couldn't eat past midnight Friday morning, and when I woke up, I took a 100 mg Doxycicline antibiotic prior to surgery. We had to be at the hospital by 8:30 a.m., to register and be admitted to the surgery wing. At that point, my stomach was a mess from having not only eaten nothing and taking an antibiotic on an empty stomach, and being nervous and an emotional wreck, I was having horrible stomach cramps and nausea. I ended up spending fifteen minutes in the ladies' room throwing up all of my stomach contents. I was miserable. I felt as if insult was being added to injury. The day I am going to lose my precious angel that I have been fighting for for so long and doing my best to protect my little baby and hope and believe that everything was going to turn out ok. I was exhausted mentally, physically, and emotionally. As soon as the nurses started to prep me for surgery, I began to slowly lose it. I was crying hysterically and begging for my husband. My sweet Ob/Gyn came into the room and tried to calm me down. As they got the IV in my arm, the anesthesiologist came in and talked to me and told me that he would get something go help calm me down, due to my pulse being over 170 and my blood pressure at 189/86. I was an absolute mess! How could I be anything else?! I was so happy when my sweet husband could come back and keep me company until it was time for my surgery. He took his time telling our precious baby goodbye and giving him one last kiss. I was dreading being taken back into the OR. Around 10:00 a.m., I was given a shot in my IV to slowly calm me down and I kissed my husband one last time as they sent him out of the room to send me back to the OR. I was crying and shaking and I was terrified that I was letting my precious baby down somehow. When we got into the OR, I was given a couple shots in my IV and nitrous oxide in my oxygen mask. I remember a nurse holding my hand and telling me how sorry she was that I had to go through this. She kept rubbing my hand and my shoulder until I fell asleep. Around 10:42 a.m., Friday, July 6, 2012 our precious little baby was born. I woke up in recovery screaming and crying and begging for my husband. The nurses kept asking me if I was ok, but it wasn't pain making me cry. Just a little over an hour previous, I was ten weeks pregnant with a tiny little Thelusma safely tucked into my womb. I couldn't believe he was gone!!! Seeing my husband crushed my heart.. I felt like not only had I let our baby down and failed somehow, but that I had also disappointed my husband again. The nurses were very sweet about making me comfortable and getting me ready so that I could go home and mourn in the privacy of my own home. I was told contractions would continue and my cervix would remain dilated for up to two weeks due to not having a full term birth and in turn I had no milk coming in, as breastfeeding usually helps the uterus contract back down to usual size and help the cervix close back up. I was given specific instructions to take it easy as to not start hemmoraghing.

It is now three days past our precious little baby's Angel Day. We named our precious little angel Amaris Sage Thelusma. We are going to have a memorial service in his honor at some point. We decided to have chromosome testing done on him, after a long hard emotional battle in our hearts, to see what caused Amaris' death, and to see if something was wrong with him, or if something is wrong with either Juvins' or my chromosomes. We are also going to have karotyping done to see if there is anything that can be done for future pregnancies to make sure that another heartbreaking loss doesn't occur. It was a hard decision to make because we really wanted to bring our precious little Amaris home and be able to bury him, but there are so many hard questions that we couldn't find the answers to without further testing. And since we now have six precious guardian angels in the sky from a total of five pregnancies that have ended in miscarriage, I FINALLY have a doctor that thinks testing is necessary and something we could benefit from. I go back July 19th, for my two week post -op checkup to see how everything is healing. We were told that it will be up to three to four months before my hormone levels drop all the way down to 0, which is normal when not pregnant, and at some point, we will be cleared as to when we can try for another little Thelusma. As of right now though, we are just trying to heal and remember and honor our little Amaris. To everyone who has in some way, honored the memory of our angel, a very heartfelt thank you comes from the bottom of our hearts. Your kindess during this time will never be forgotten, and I'm sure that Amaris will watch over you as well. For those who are acting as if Amaris never existed, just remember that last week you were all excited about the newest addition to the Thelusma family and asking how pregnancy was going. But now, you just pretend that Amaris was never even a person whose existence you acknowledged. That hurts, it really does. It shows just who have always been the true friends and supporters of the Thelusma family. Its ok though, because I have six of the sweetest guardian angels watching over me, and no one can hurt me unless I chose to let them. I'm sorry, but right now, my world revolves around making sure my precious Amaris leaves a lasting impression on all of the lives that he touched for even the briefest of times. 

         Life isn't fair, and it for sure isn't easy. Mommy and Daddy love you, Amaris Sage

             Thelusma, and we will never forget you! Fly high, our precious little angel. <3

6/13/2009   <3    7/3/2010     <3     11/16/2011-twins      <3     3/26/2012    <3     7/6/2012      <3

My name is Sarah and I was infertile. This is my story.

March 2009, I moved in with my boyfriend, Juvins, of five years after I graduated high school and he came back from his last deployment. April 2009, I discovered that I was pregnant. June 2009, I started having irregular bleeding and cramps and I miscarried a four month baby-our first loss. The Drs couldn’t find anything wrong with our child-so it was medically labeled as a spontaneous abortion. I had a natural miscarriage at home without medicine. I lost my precious child, in the bathroom-placenta and all. I labored for 12 hours and had strong contractions and my boyfriend had to stay on base on duty since we weren’t married his command wouldn’t let him come be with me.

March 2010, my boyfriend and I got married and he immediately enrolled me into TriCare. We went to my PCM-primary care manager- on base and explained that we had been trying to get pregnant without any luck. He made us wait until June before he would put in a referral for us to try any testing because for women under 25, if you do not conceive in a year of having unprotected sex you are considered infertile. June 2010, we started seeing our first reproductive endocrinologist, Dr. Fox. He started the bloodwork and the ultrasounds and I had a HSG-hysterosalpingogram, while my husband had to undergo semen analysis. During the testing it was determined that I had PCOS-Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, and stage four Endometriosis. It was recommended that I have a laproscopic surgery done to remove some of the cysts from my ovaries and the scar tissue from my uterus. September 2011, I had the laproscopic surgery. A two hour procedure turned into eight hours of me on the operating table-my case was so severe. I had to have blood transfusions during the surgery. After a month of healing we were cleared to start injections and TI-timed intercourse.

March 2011, we finished a round of injections, I took my trigger shot and we boarded a cruise ship to the Bahamas to celebrate our first wedding anniversary. When we got home, we discovered I was pregnant. I miscarried our second angel in July 2011.

August 2011, my husband and I decided we wanted to start trying again. We had stopped seeing my RE and I saw a local Ob/Gyn who put me on Clomid. I didn’t respond to the drug at all-it just stimulated my ovaries into making cysts instead of eggs. I was put on Provera to kick start my cycle and progesterone to regulate my cycle. In November, I realized I hadn’t had a period since August, which is normal with the conditions that I have, so I made an appointment with my Ob/Gyn to see if my cysts had gotten worse or if my endometrial lining was building up. During the ultrasound, two gestational sacs appeared on screen. I was a little over 6 weeks pregnant with twins. The end of November 2011, I miscarried our twins at 7 and a half weeks.

March 201,. we hadn’t been trying-we had given up on having a baby until we could do IVF because our new RE, Dr. Winslow, said that our chances of carrying a healthy baby full term would be higher, so we just decided to take a break until we had the money to do IVF. I flew out to San Diego to visit my husband who was stationed there TAD-temporary assigned duty. We came home March 19. I started feeling tired, sick, and generally just out of it but I didn’t think anything of it because I hadn’t been following my cycle at all. When my period was almost due, I started to feel violently sick and I went to my Dr and they said I had BV-bacterial vaginosis. They did not do a pregnancy test but put me on an antibiotic to help get rid of whatever was causing the BV. March 26 my period, which was almost a week late, started. I thought it was going to be just a normal period-I wasn’t even thinking that I was pregnant. My period was light, almost non-existent and I paid no heed. March 27, on our second wedding anniversary, I discovered that at three days shy of five weeks, I was miscarrying our fifth angel baby. I hadn’t passed the blastocyst (baby) yet but I knew it was coming soon-I kept having intense cramps which I knew is my uterus rejecting the baby. My hCG levels were elevated but dropping so since the hormone was still in my system-I  was still having some pregnancy symptoms. Since I had not fully lost the baby yet-even though I knew its going to happen in the next 24-36 hours due to the amount of blood I was hemorrhaging-I was in denial.

I have been through all the stages of infertility. I have been in denial, I have been depressed to the point of seriously contemplating suicide, I have withdrawn from family and friends, my husband and I almost divorced, and I am no longer friends with people who used to have a very special place in my life because they had what I wanted most and it hurt too much to be around them. I hated being told to relax because even when we relaxed and didn’t think about it-my body had too many issues and would reject our very much unplanned, unexpected miracle baby. I hated being told it will happen in God’s time-what did I ever do to him to make him give me something so precious and then take it so cruelly away from me. I hated being told when the time is right we will have a baby-we do have a baby, we have FIVE babies to be exact-please don’t pretend that they don’t exist. I hated being told that everything happens for a reason and to try and find something positive in all of this-there is nothing positive, I was pregnant but my BABIES DIED. I hated being told to get over it-I lost all of my sweet, precious, innocent babies… Babies that I felt growing, babies that I love so much, babies that I never saw except for on a ultrasound screen, babies who will forever remain in my heart but never my arms. Our oldest would have turned two on November 18, 2009. How am I supposed to “get over” that?! Seeing a pregnant woman or a newborn child is like a giant slap in the face-a cruel reminder of what I want and would die to have but have lost so many times. Seeing a father holding his child reminds me I can’t give my husband a child. I feel less of a woman and I feel as if I am not worthy of a child.

All of this being said-at our old base-being an infertile was like having leprosy. All the wives were getting pregnant and giving birth after deployments. Nobody would talk to me. So I started a facebook page and a support group for other infertile military wives. I run it because I don’t want them to feel as alone as I felt-I wanted them to have a safe place to express their emotions and pain and hurt. I recently wrote up a petition to the Dept. of Health and TriCare to try and get more of IVF and IUI covered. If any of you would like any of that information, please PLEASE do not hesitate to ask.  

*hugs and baby dust*

I ask for no sympathy, just friendship and understanding, and I offer the same in return. <3

"Empty Arms" a Poem of Infertility
I stand here alone in the pregnancy testing aisle,
We have been trying to get pregnant for the longest while.

Month after month, each test reads negative,
I would give anything to see that beautiful positive.

Stupid advice to just quit trying,
Every word you utter leaves me in the bathroom crying.

I feel as if my lack of a child makes me less of a woman,
When people say procreating is a natural part of being human.

Is it my fault my tubes, my uterus, my ovaries dont work,
Do you think each failed treatment really dont hurt?

Multiple injections, vaginal ultrasounds, RE appointments,
More bad news, misdiagnoses, failed tests, disappointments.

I see a woman walking down the street, large with pregnancy,
Good God, why cant that just happen to me?

Baby announcements, sonograms, childhood pictures,
My rules on having friends of procreating age are getting stricter.

I try diets, exercise, yoga, medicine, putting our butt in the air,
You say "You're still not pregnant?!" and then just stare.

Years of trying, months of no sucess,
Relationships under fire, every day under stress.

I quit going down certain aisles because they're too close to the baby section,
"Will I get pregnant this month?" is the constant question.

I am an infertile, my arms are still empty,
Dear God, please just bless me with a miracle baby.

~Written by Sarah Lynn Thelusma after four years of TTC~

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