Questions and Answers

Wow, so much can happen in 10 months. Here we are in October of 2021 —dealing with the same world pandemic, but all trying to navigate our new normal and get back to living.

In the midst of Covid & questions, Justin and I decided we needed to keep living, and decided to try for another baby after a devastating loss in 2019. So in Feb/March 2020 we started trying again, tracking all the cycles, buying cheap drugstore tests and crossing our fingers that we would see a plus sign. But months went by…and nothing. It was so easy to get pregnant before…but this time was taking longer. by January 2021, we started to wonder what was going on. We were assured that this was all normal, and sure enough at the end of January, we saw a faint positive…but it was just a chemical pregnancy and it didn’t last more than 48 hours. This felt like a good sign though…at least my body remembered how to do this.

In February 2021 we got another positive…and like the crazy person I am, I took multiple tests over multiple days and the lines got stronger, darker—it was FOR SURE a positive. I texted my OB/GYN and she asked me to come in and confirm with labs. Sure enough, everything was trending the right way. I had labs done again a week later - still moving in the right direction!

We scheduled our first ultrasound for March (8 weeks) and when that day rolled around, our anxiety was through the roof. The last time we had done an ultrasound we received the worst news of our lives, and now we were returning to the same clinic, same ultrasound room to once again search for a heart beat. Justin was early this time ( he was late to the last one), and we took a deep breath and I closed my eyes for fear of seeing something I did not want to see. Our tech quickly announced, “Baby has a heart beat and is measuring great!” What a relief! I cried tears of joy and we called our parents to let them know the news. This felt like such a huge milestone to overcome, but we still carried the memory of pregnancy loss and were celebrating very cautiously.

It’s weird when you are pregnant with your “rainbow baby”, because you feel like you should be happy and optimistic, but you are so jaded from your loss, that it is hard to feel that. It’s hard to not think about the “what-if’s” and to not get too invested too early. You love the baby you are carrying, but you are so scared to shout it to the world—because you feel like you may jinx it. We shared our news with our family and close friends, and by 12 weeks I was feeling a little better and a little more optimistic, but walking into our 12 week ultrasound on April 29th, Justin and I discussed how we both still felt nervous and we wondered if we would ever feel different?

We got situated in the ultrasound room and I asked if I needed to put the gown on. “Oh no, this is just a quick belly view to make sure we are measuring on track for 12 weeks. You can just pull up your shirt.” The minute she hit my belly, I knew something wasn’t right. She searched everywhere and finally asked me to change into the gown so we could do a wand ultrasound. Justin put his hands on his face and I assured him that everything would be fine, and there’s no way this could happen twice in a row. Although deep down, I knew that something was very wrong.

Once she started the ultrasound again, she finally found a faint outline of a baby that hadn’t grown since week 8. I cried and covered my face , but I knew no matter how much I cried, it wouldn’t change the outcome. The tech awkwardly tried to comfort me, but then excused herself from the room. Justin and I hugged and asked, “How could this happen?”

I had no signs of a miscarriage, no bleeding —which I have learned is called a “missed miscarriage”. Your body doesn’t realize what has happened, and it continues growing and changing like you are still carrying a growing baby. The baby had stopped growing shortly after our first ultrasound.

Because my body didn’t recognize the loss, my doctor recommended a D&C. We had been here before, but it all felt like the twilight zone. We went through the motions, checked into surgery the next morning.

I tried to stay strong in Pre-Op, but as they wheeled me back to surgery, I felt my eyes welling up with tears. I never wanted to be in this place again and I never wanted to have another loss like this. This was not supposed to be our story.

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In the last few months, we have gotten some answers as to why this is happening.

My physician ran several tests over a period of 3 months and discovered that I have a condition called Antiphospholipid Antibody Syndrome (APAS). Basically, your immune system attacks normal proteins in the blood, and can cause blood clots — so at 8 weeks pregnant when the baby tries to implant, blood clots prevent this from successfully happening. It has been sad finding this out, but also helpful, as we now know what is going on and can make next-step choices accordingly. This puts me in a category for high-risk pregnancy and I would be on blood thinner injections throughout pregnancies and post-partum. Couple the risks of APAS with the trauma of pregnancy loss, and we are not sure more biological children are in the cards for us.

This is not the end of our journey, though. More to come soon.

Holidays in the Time of Covid-19

Wow, here we are….the end of 2020. Finally. Do I really need to recap the happenings of this year? Yeah, no. I will skip that.

We just wrapped Thanksgiving and are full steam ahead towards Christmas. In a very festive turn of events, our city is seeing record Covid-19 numbers, with over 600 people hospitalized in the OKC metro area. Our hospitals are busting at the seams. I don’t work in direct patient care, but I do work for a large health system, and I see the stress on the faces of our physicians, providers and administrators daily. It’s alarming and it is gut-wrenching.

The ask of people by the CDC for Thanksgiving was to stay home, but if you didn’t stay home - take precautions. Wear your masks. Stay 6 feet apart. Don’t gather in large groups. You know the drill.

The amount of people I saw on social media totally disregarding these requests was scary. People gathered in large family photos, holding huge Friendsgiving events, large church events. I myself struggled with the decision, and I understand the need, the want, to gather with people this year. There would have been a total of 9 people at our Thanksgiving gathering and while I missed my people, I knew that I was doing my part — my very best—to keep this virus at bay and keep my people safe. People say, “Well, we haven’t been exposed. No one is sick.” Well, that may be the case. But this virus is weird and it is still mysterious in a lot of ways, and some people walk around completely asymptomatic—spreading it to others unknowingly. And to me, that is scary. To risk my son’s health or my husband’s health for some turkey and stuffing just didn’t seem worth it.

As Christmas gets closer, we are once again grappling with plans —what do we do? Can we safely celebrate as a group? Is it feasible to maintain a 6ft distance from family members? What about going through the food line? What if family members don’t want to abide by safety guidelines? Many people refuse to “let the government tell them how to celebrate”, but this is not about government. This is about the health workers I see everyday and the limited resources we have in Oklahoma to take care of people. This is about my son, your kids, our grandparents, our parents, our friends. This is about the general care and kindness you can show by just doing your part - planning ahead, taking all precautions, staying home if you can —because honestly, staying safe and slowing the spread is the best Christmas gift you can give or receive this year.

What does your family plan to do to stay safe this year?

October 1st

On September 30, 2019, I was almost 9 weeks pregnant with our 2nd child. We attended my grandpa’s birthday party, I felt alright…just needed a nap when we got home – because who doesn’t nap when you’re pregnant? My boobs were sore, I had a little evening sickness…other than that, I felt pretty normal. My husband and I were excited because the next day, October 1st, we would go for our first ultrasound. We were nervous about having babies 26 months apart. Reed still seemed so little and needed so much attention. On the other hand, we were so excited that he would have a close sibling to grow up with.

Justin was coming to the ultrasound from work, and I already worked in the same building as my OB/GYN, so I went to check in at the doctor’s office and called Justin. He was running late from a meeting. They called me back and Justin was not there yet. We had done this a half a dozen times with our first pregnancy, so I figured we would just get started and he could come back when he arrived. The ultrasound tech started on my belly and asked the question about how many pregnancies I had encountered, and did all of them go full term? Weird question to ask, but yeah…just one and yes, it was all fine. Let’s get on with the ultrasound, lady.

She started on my belly and stopped. She said that she thought it may be too early for a topical ultrasound and we would try a vaginal ultrasound – which made perfect sense since that is what happened in our first ultrasound with Reed. She sent me to do a urine sample, and in retrospect, I think it was to stall until my husband arrived.

As I entered back into the room, Justin had arrived. I got back on the table, braced myself for the magical vaginal wand, and waited as she looked at the screen. The TV wasn’t on, and I couldn’t see anything, but I could see Justin’s face, and I was having trouble reading his expression. Why wasn’t she talking? What did they see? I finally spoke up and said “Um, what do you see? Can we turn the screen on so I can see?” She immediately said, “Brooke, I am not finding a heartbeat.” What a gut punch. I can literally still hear those words clear as day. Hot tears started to go down my cheeks and I looked at Justin, realizing that he had been watching her unsuccessfully search for the heart beat for a couple minutes. He already knew.

They ushered us to a clinic room that I had never been in before and we waited for our OB to come in. She came in and through her words, began to cry. She said she had reviewed the ultrasound and we were measuring right on track. She said the miscarriage could have just happened the day before. We discussed our options. She and the nurse both cried with us, hugged us. I am so thankful for them and their support in those moments. I remember them letting us go out the back door. The rest of the day is kind of a blur. It’s so strange being pregnant and then….not pregnant. It was such a rough time.

I don’t want to say I have gotten past it, because do people really ever get past miscarriage? I have gotten better at not thinking about it, but at least once a day, I do think about it. I think about how old our baby would be. They would have been born in May. I think about how we missed out on the chance to give Reed a brother or a sister. I think about what happened – was it a fluke? Was something wrong? Did I do something to cause it? I know if others have been there, they know all of these feelings well. I also think about how if we ever do experience another pregnancy how I will be an absolute, nervous wreck the whole time. Just counting days until the next ultrasound, the next milestone.

I came home from the hospital on October 1st and promptly saw on social media that October was “Pregnancy Loss Awareness” month. While I appreciated this sentiment, it was so freshly painful for me that I couldn’t bear to share our story of loss with anyone. Only a couple close friends and our family had known we were expecting. To announce that you’ve lost something that people didn’t know you had…that’s awkward and painful. I write all of this to say, if you have experienced this, I feel you. I see you. I know the pain of mourning a child you never met. It is a sad, lonely road to navigate. Hang in there. Things will get easier.

Not easy, but easier.