Something I have been much more aware of since losing Brooklyn, is the language people use when it comes to "God's will".
Baby announcements are made and people often reply "Praise God!" or "What an answer to prayer!"
Many people have said to us that we need to "trust in God because he has a plan for us." "He has all of our days written out already."
While these things are often well intended, I have become more and more uncomfortable with the "Christianese" terms and phrases that often roll off our tongues without a second thought.
But what happens when God doesn't answer prayers? I prayed for Brooklyn often during my pregnancy. The day I went into labour I spent time in her nursery praying over her, asking God to help her arrive safely.
Why do we assume that God is this big puppeteer up in the sky who is making all of these good things happen in our life?And why do we think that when tragedy strikes in our lives, that the automatic explanation for this is "it's all in God's plan," and "we'll know the reason one day."
One of my favourite worship songs is "In Christ Alone." I have trouble singing it these says because of the line - "From life's first cry to final breath, Jesus commands my destiny." Does this mean then that God planned for Brooklyn to die? Was this God's purpose for her life? And does this then mean that it's in God's plan for people to be taken too soon from cancer or other tragedies?
How can this be the same God? The one who choose certain babies to arrive safely, certain people to live into their 90's, and the one who takes others too soon? If this is who we believe God is, it then means that He chooses to answer certain prayers and not others. Does God play favourites?
I believe with all of my heart that it was not in God's plan for Brooklyn to die. I believe that He mourned with us, and continues to mourn with us over her loss.
Don't get me wrong, I believe that God has used Brooklyn's life and death for His purpose and continues to use her death for His redemption of this broken world.
I also believe in the power of prayer, but I don't believe that God is a puppeteer who has every single detail of our lives planned from our "first cry to final breath." He knows exactly what is going to happen, but I don't believe in a God who plans for tragedy in our lives. I believe that sin is ever-present in this world, and that because of free will, there are some things that are even out of the Creator's hands. This may be the "wrong" way to view God, but this is where I'm at right now.
I'm thankful for this awareness that has been so very present to me since Brooklyn's loss. I'm thankful for how it has forced me to stop and reflect about who I believe God is. And I am thankful that is has made me more intentional about the things I say to people in relation to God's will for their lives, tragedy, and loss.
Wednesday, 26 November 2014
Thursday, 20 November 2014
Insights, Not Answers.
Today we had our bi-weekly OB appointment where we also received our final autopsy results.
The day after I gave birth to Brooklyn, we had to sign consent to let them know what tests we wanted done on her. The nurses told us that over 50% of the time, there are no answers found with a full-autopsy anyways. This, along with not being able to handle the thought of a stranger cutting open our perfect baby's little body, made us decide to only do a partial autopsy.
They took blood from both Brooklyn and I, examined her body visually and through x-ray, and examined the cord and placenta visually and microscopically.
Here is what they found:
- Small Placenta: Although the size of my placenta looked appropriate when I delivered it, upon further observation they noted that the weight was at less than the 10th percentile for 39 weeks gestation. Small placentas have to work extra hard to supply the baby with oxygen and nutrients, which can cause complications while in labour.
- Meconium Exposure: We already knew this as Brooklyn was covered in meconium (baby's first poop) when she came out. Her skin was stained, and the autopsy showed that the cord and placenta were too. This is often a sign that baby is/was in distress. Knowing that our baby was in distress and we weren't able to do anything about it makes me feel sick. Thinking about her final moments inside of me makes me wish I could have done something.
- Acute Chorionitis of Placental Membranes: This is an inflammation of placental membranes (blockages), which makes it hard for oxygen to flow through. This is often associated with a long labour (which I had).
- Edema of Placental Membranes & Amnion Degeneration: Caused by a baby going into distress and results in reduced or insufficient oxygen.
- Brooklyn's heart, lungs, bone structure, stomach, extremities, etc. all looked perfect. All of her measurements were between the 70th and 90th percentile, except for her cute big feet which were well over the 100th percentile. She was a perfectly healthy and normal baby.
In a nutshell, the OB said that while this provides insight, it doesn't provide complete answers. One thing that she did say, was with the combination of a small placenta and high blood pressure, when I went into labour, it is possible that Brooklyn went into distress due to the placenta not being able to work as hard as it needed to, and her oxygen supply was cut off.
She also said that as far as we know, genetically there was nothing wrong with Brooklyn, which would lead us to believe that genetically, there was nothing wrong with the placenta. She did say that there is always a chance of it happening again (which we already knew). Just because it happened to us once doesn't mean we get a "Pass Go" card this time around. However, it also doesn't mean that it is more likely to happen again. We try to remain hopeful that with close monitoring that the outcome will be different this time around.
We had a perfect baby, with an imperfect placenta that just wasn't able to provide her with what she needed when I went into labour.
For someone who used to be very pro home birth, this has made me completely rethink how I understand monitoring during labour, and the need for hospitals to admit women sooner than the "4cm norm."
From here, the OB said the only thing we are going to do differently is have me take a baby aspirin daily. This will help to increase blood supply to certain organs - including the placenta. The weekly ultrasounds that she has scheduled for me will also be able to measure the function of the placenta and see how much oxygen supply Baby A is getting. And the non-stress tests will make sure her heart rate and movements are appropriate, and there is no indication of reduced movements (which often happens when the placenta begins to fail). Unless ultrasounds show decreased placental function, my induction will take place between February 10th and 17th.
Even with these insights, I do not feel satisfied. It doesn't help me feel more calm or confident about the outcome of this pregnancy. In fact, I find myself angry. How are third trimester ultrasounds STILL not part of the normal prenatal screening? If I had one, they would have been able to see that my placenta was working extra hard to get oxygen to our baby and Brooklyn's life may have been spared. While I continue to be thankful for our medical system, I am also aware of the many holes it has, and how even one ultrasound in the third trimester could drastically reduce the rate of stillbirth in this country.
Reading the autopsy report was really hard for me. After completing a medical placement in the hospital, I understand the need for terminology to be straight to the point and impersonal. But seeing our daughter referred to as "female fetus" and having her death described as "intrauterine fetal demise" are really difficult things to read.
Please pray for us as we digest this new found information. We are feeling emotionally drained after receiving these results. Please pray for our OB, midwives, the ultrasound techs that will be monitoring the placental growth, and the nurses who will be monitoring our non-stress tests. Please pray for Baby A - that she continues to grow strong and healthy. And though it sounds strange, please specifically pray for the placenta - that it continues to grow without error, and is able to supply our baby everything she needs until she is safe in our arms.
The day after I gave birth to Brooklyn, we had to sign consent to let them know what tests we wanted done on her. The nurses told us that over 50% of the time, there are no answers found with a full-autopsy anyways. This, along with not being able to handle the thought of a stranger cutting open our perfect baby's little body, made us decide to only do a partial autopsy.
They took blood from both Brooklyn and I, examined her body visually and through x-ray, and examined the cord and placenta visually and microscopically.
Here is what they found:
- Small Placenta: Although the size of my placenta looked appropriate when I delivered it, upon further observation they noted that the weight was at less than the 10th percentile for 39 weeks gestation. Small placentas have to work extra hard to supply the baby with oxygen and nutrients, which can cause complications while in labour.
- Meconium Exposure: We already knew this as Brooklyn was covered in meconium (baby's first poop) when she came out. Her skin was stained, and the autopsy showed that the cord and placenta were too. This is often a sign that baby is/was in distress. Knowing that our baby was in distress and we weren't able to do anything about it makes me feel sick. Thinking about her final moments inside of me makes me wish I could have done something.
- Acute Chorionitis of Placental Membranes: This is an inflammation of placental membranes (blockages), which makes it hard for oxygen to flow through. This is often associated with a long labour (which I had).
- Edema of Placental Membranes & Amnion Degeneration: Caused by a baby going into distress and results in reduced or insufficient oxygen.
- Brooklyn's heart, lungs, bone structure, stomach, extremities, etc. all looked perfect. All of her measurements were between the 70th and 90th percentile, except for her cute big feet which were well over the 100th percentile. She was a perfectly healthy and normal baby.
In a nutshell, the OB said that while this provides insight, it doesn't provide complete answers. One thing that she did say, was with the combination of a small placenta and high blood pressure, when I went into labour, it is possible that Brooklyn went into distress due to the placenta not being able to work as hard as it needed to, and her oxygen supply was cut off.
She also said that as far as we know, genetically there was nothing wrong with Brooklyn, which would lead us to believe that genetically, there was nothing wrong with the placenta. She did say that there is always a chance of it happening again (which we already knew). Just because it happened to us once doesn't mean we get a "Pass Go" card this time around. However, it also doesn't mean that it is more likely to happen again. We try to remain hopeful that with close monitoring that the outcome will be different this time around.
We had a perfect baby, with an imperfect placenta that just wasn't able to provide her with what she needed when I went into labour.
For someone who used to be very pro home birth, this has made me completely rethink how I understand monitoring during labour, and the need for hospitals to admit women sooner than the "4cm norm."
From here, the OB said the only thing we are going to do differently is have me take a baby aspirin daily. This will help to increase blood supply to certain organs - including the placenta. The weekly ultrasounds that she has scheduled for me will also be able to measure the function of the placenta and see how much oxygen supply Baby A is getting. And the non-stress tests will make sure her heart rate and movements are appropriate, and there is no indication of reduced movements (which often happens when the placenta begins to fail). Unless ultrasounds show decreased placental function, my induction will take place between February 10th and 17th.
Even with these insights, I do not feel satisfied. It doesn't help me feel more calm or confident about the outcome of this pregnancy. In fact, I find myself angry. How are third trimester ultrasounds STILL not part of the normal prenatal screening? If I had one, they would have been able to see that my placenta was working extra hard to get oxygen to our baby and Brooklyn's life may have been spared. While I continue to be thankful for our medical system, I am also aware of the many holes it has, and how even one ultrasound in the third trimester could drastically reduce the rate of stillbirth in this country.
Reading the autopsy report was really hard for me. After completing a medical placement in the hospital, I understand the need for terminology to be straight to the point and impersonal. But seeing our daughter referred to as "female fetus" and having her death described as "intrauterine fetal demise" are really difficult things to read.
Please pray for us as we digest this new found information. We are feeling emotionally drained after receiving these results. Please pray for our OB, midwives, the ultrasound techs that will be monitoring the placental growth, and the nurses who will be monitoring our non-stress tests. Please pray for Baby A - that she continues to grow strong and healthy. And though it sounds strange, please specifically pray for the placenta - that it continues to grow without error, and is able to supply our baby everything she needs until she is safe in our arms.
Tuesday, 11 November 2014
Viability
I am officially 24 weeks today. Just 20 weeks ago we found out we were expecting this little baby, and I honestly had many doubts that we would ever make it this far in a pregnancy again. This is what happens when you go through a pregnancy loss - you begin to doubt your body and the possibility of a healthy living baby in the future.
Viability is a very exciting term to me. At 24 weeks, if something were to happen and this baby needed to be born, there is a chance she could survive. That chance is still very small at 24 weeks, but the chance is there. From now on, her chances of surviving outside of my body only increase, and at 28 weeks, most babies born are able to survive with medical assistance. Needless to say, I am very excited to have made it to 24 weeks.
Of course we know first hand that there is never truly a "safe zone" in pregnancy, but this hope of viability helps to ease just a little bit of my anxiety.
We met with our OB for the first time last Wednesday. Our appointment was at 12:30pm, but we didn't end up leaving there until 2:15pm. This is because some of our results from the testing we had done on Brooklyn STILL aren't in... The OB wasn't happy about this, and spent a lot of time on the phone with people from McMaster. She came back in the room and said "so I lit a fire under their butts and the results should be in in the next 2-3 days." Realizing how much power and influence our OB has in the medical community really helped to calm my nerves. I knew that she was well known and had heard she is a great OB, but having her advocate for us really helped to solidify this.
We talked about lots of things, including how I was feeling during this pregnancy, what labour and delivery plans will look like, and what extra testing and monitoring we will have done. She even remembered how long my labour was last time, compared to how quickly I delivered Brooklyn. Dr. Lightheart was the OB who had to confirm the news that Brooklyn's heart had stopped. She remembered us and knew our story. And the one of the first things she said to us in our meeting was "I know you won't believe me until you walk out of that hospital with a baby in your arms." I thanked her for saying this. She understands what it is like to walk through a pregnancy after a full-term loss, and she validated the fear and doubt I have. All of these things helped me to feel more at ease.
We asked her opinion on scheduled C-Section vs. scheduled induction, and she said she would like me to try to be induced. We know my body is able to deliver a baby without complications, and she assured me that baby A and I will be monitored in labour the entire time, from start to finish. She also said that she expects my labour would go much faster this time around. She did say that if my anxiety is too high towards the end we can reconsider a C-Section, but said that the risks to both baby A and I are much higher than vaginal delivery.
Starting at 28 weeks, I will have weekly ultrasounds to make sure baby A is still growing well, her amniotic fluid levels are appropriate, that she is getting enough oxygen, and that the placenta and cord are still doing their jobs and not causing complications. I will also have weekly non-stress tests where her movements and heart rate are monitored for an extended period of time. These tests will be scattered throughout the week so that there are many eyes on her every couple of days.
Dr. Lightheart also told me that if I'm ever nervous about baby A's movements or anything else happening, to just go straight to labour and delivery at the hospital for an assessment. She said to tell the hospital that I am her patient, and that we lost our first baby and they will take good care of us. She made me feel like it's okay to be extra cautious and even if it means I'm in the hospital a lot, that's okay.
Needless to say, we are feeling really good about our decision for shared-care with midwives and an OB. I can honestly say that Dr. Lightheart is going to take really good care of us and keep a very watchful eye on baby A.
I am missing Brooklyn a lot these days. I often think about what life would be like if we had a little 7 month old here with us. Would she be crawling around by now? What would her favourite mashed up foods be? What would she look like? Would she have my blue eyes or Derek's hazel eyes? Would she be sleeping through the night? All of these things are answers we will never have.
I often wonder what it will be like to parent a living child if everything continues to go well with baby A. I feel like I have gotten so used to parenting a child who has died, that this new experience will be emotionally overwhelming for me.
I have also experienced a lot of motherly guilt lately. I wonder how my heart will ever have enough love for these two precious girls. I wonder if it will be easier for me to love baby A if she is alive and well, and if my love for Brooklyn will change. I know many mother's experience the "will I have enough love, time, energy for these two little ones" thoughts, but when your only experience of parenting is when your child has died, it makes these thoughts and feelings very challenging.
I am struggling to plan for this baby's nursery, as I can't bring myself to paint and change Brooklyn's colours yet. The nursery still feels very much like Brookyln's, and without the guarantee of baby A coming home with us, it is hard for me to plan for her arrival. I am thankful for a close friend who often sends me ideas for colours and bedding. She helps me to have hope, and encourages me in loving ways (and probably without realizing it) to prepare both physically and emotionally for baby A to come home.
With only a two month break between pregnancies, I often feel like this is one big long pregnancy and we have been waiting forever for a baby to be in our arms. However, even with all of the stress that accompanies this pregnancy, I thank God often for this blessing. I know that pregnancy is not something to be taken lightly, and something many people wish they could experience. We are thankful beyond all measure to have gotten pregnant quickly with both of our girls. While we wish Brooklyn was here with us, we are constantly reminded to just be grateful for the experiences we had with her while I was pregnant, and the experiences we are having with her little sister. Still, we try to remain hopeful for baby A's life, and to be able to experience a living child.
Dr. Lightheart also told me that if I'm ever nervous about baby A's movements or anything else happening, to just go straight to labour and delivery at the hospital for an assessment. She said to tell the hospital that I am her patient, and that we lost our first baby and they will take good care of us. She made me feel like it's okay to be extra cautious and even if it means I'm in the hospital a lot, that's okay.
Needless to say, we are feeling really good about our decision for shared-care with midwives and an OB. I can honestly say that Dr. Lightheart is going to take really good care of us and keep a very watchful eye on baby A.
I am missing Brooklyn a lot these days. I often think about what life would be like if we had a little 7 month old here with us. Would she be crawling around by now? What would her favourite mashed up foods be? What would she look like? Would she have my blue eyes or Derek's hazel eyes? Would she be sleeping through the night? All of these things are answers we will never have.
I often wonder what it will be like to parent a living child if everything continues to go well with baby A. I feel like I have gotten so used to parenting a child who has died, that this new experience will be emotionally overwhelming for me.
I have also experienced a lot of motherly guilt lately. I wonder how my heart will ever have enough love for these two precious girls. I wonder if it will be easier for me to love baby A if she is alive and well, and if my love for Brooklyn will change. I know many mother's experience the "will I have enough love, time, energy for these two little ones" thoughts, but when your only experience of parenting is when your child has died, it makes these thoughts and feelings very challenging.
I am struggling to plan for this baby's nursery, as I can't bring myself to paint and change Brooklyn's colours yet. The nursery still feels very much like Brookyln's, and without the guarantee of baby A coming home with us, it is hard for me to plan for her arrival. I am thankful for a close friend who often sends me ideas for colours and bedding. She helps me to have hope, and encourages me in loving ways (and probably without realizing it) to prepare both physically and emotionally for baby A to come home.
With only a two month break between pregnancies, I often feel like this is one big long pregnancy and we have been waiting forever for a baby to be in our arms. However, even with all of the stress that accompanies this pregnancy, I thank God often for this blessing. I know that pregnancy is not something to be taken lightly, and something many people wish they could experience. We are thankful beyond all measure to have gotten pregnant quickly with both of our girls. While we wish Brooklyn was here with us, we are constantly reminded to just be grateful for the experiences we had with her while I was pregnant, and the experiences we are having with her little sister. Still, we try to remain hopeful for baby A's life, and to be able to experience a living child.
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