So much has happened in the past year since I wrote that first post. Ah the tales of a habitual aborter to quote Betsy. It was suggested to me to start journaling. Since I don't have one and no one really knows about this blog anyway... Here I am.
Connor's birth was probably the best moment in my life. Yes meeting Mike and getting married and our honeymoon are definitely up there on the list. But Connor. He is something special. When I was in the hospital everyone commented on how nice it was to see me smile. I guess I never realized how my depression and grief was that evident.
Fast forward to July 2012. It was a busy night at work and I kept forgetting things. My co workers at the time joked that I was pregnant again. I brushed them off because I knew I had had a period just two weeks before. I just didn't focus on work the same after coming back from maternity leave and it annoyed them. Connor was being super fussy at feedings. He would eat like normal and when he would stop he would cry this horrible cry. It broke my heart. I could tell my supply was dropping and blamed it on him starting solids. A few days later I had a dream that I was pregnant. The only other time I had had that dream was when I was pregnant with Connor. I took a test and it came back positive in record time. I instantly panicked. Connor was only 6 months old! I just had robbed him of our time together of just us. I called Mike and he was excited we would be getting a minivan.
The next day I started to spot. It wasn't heavy. Just a light brown. But we headed into the ER anyways. They said it was too early for an ultrasound and drew beta HCG. It was around 200. In the next week my numbers went down then up. Enough that I still held hope even though it wasn't close to being normal. Then the day of Ryan's annual pig roast, the bleeding started. I came home from the party to find our freezer door cracked. All my frozen breast milk had started to thaw. I sat on the kitchen floor and cried.
This second loss was like a bump in the road. It hurt me, but I had to focus on Connor. I tried so hard to get my milk supply up, but after a month I gave up. This is probably my biggest regret. I hope someday I will forgive myself for it.
I went back on Ativan and Abilify along with my max dose of Zoloft. I was struggling and started to drink a wine cooler at night to try and calm down. Probably not the best time to start to TTC, but I wanted another baby so bad. Connor gives me joy. I needed more of that. On our first month of trying we got lucky and got pregnant right away. I started Progesterone and switched OBs to try and lessen my stress level. I saw our baby 4 times. Each with a heart beat. He/she was bounching all around and I thought, great another Mike. Mike called a dealership to start test driving mini vans. In the meantime, I was slowly falling apart. I worried about handling two children, when I could barely get out of bed each day. I sat and watched Connor play. I checked out. Two weeks after that last ultrasound I was considering suicide. I just was tired of being so damn sad. Connor and Mike deserve better. I would rock Connor to sleep and night and just cry. Soon I realized something was not right with my pregnancy. I made an appointment and got in for another ultrasound to "calm my nerves" our little angel had died. Again. The tales of a habitual aborter.
Since then, I had a D&C, repeat loss testing, and begged Mike to kill me since I can't do it. I weaned off Zoloft and Abilify. Probably not the best idea, but its not like it was helping anyway. My labs have came back normal except for my ANA. So basically in the words of a wise bumpy, I'm a perfectly healthy baby killing machine. Oh except I may have an autoimmune disorder. Yippy.
So here we are now. Given the green light to TTC again. Unsure that I will survive another loss. My nickname in AZ was fragile. Fragile doesn't even begin to explain where I am right now.
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