I'm a little shocked and admittedly saddened by how quickly I was able to wean Luke. He had been nursing less and less for some time but he always turned to nursing him to calm his moods. If he had gotten hurt, angry, or was feeling a little sleepy, he always turned to me to comfort him by demanding to be nursed. I also must admit that I was getting tired and a little uncomfortable when he'd demand milk, say in the middle of Panera when I was having coffee with a friend.
I became intent on stopping the nursing when my Doctor gave me meds for my back a couple weeks ago, that weren't compatible with nursing. I had been feeling like it was time to stop but didn't have the heart to do it because Luke may very well be my last baby. That doesn't mean I wanted to continue nursing him forever, I just needed a little more time. I took my back ache and prescription meds as a sign that it had become time to stop.
I figured the easiest thing to do would be to cut out the daytime feedings first. In order to help with the pain of engorgement I used a trick that I learned after Isabel was delivered. My milk had come in, even though I didn't have my baby and it was a very difficult time. I was home from the hospital, absolutely beside myself because I lost her and then it happened...my milk came in. Talking about rubbing salt in a wound.
The advice my former Dr. gave me was to try binding the breasts in a tight fitting sports bra, but that didn't work at all. I remember telling the nurses at his office how it wasn't working. That everytime I checked milk would squirt out. I remember sitting in the exam room waiting for the Dr. and hearing the nurses laughing saying that if I kept squeezing my breasts, the milk's never gonna dry up. Thanks so much for your compassion.
I had to take matter into my own hands and began to ask around and finally found someone who knew what to do. The answer was cabbage leaves. I feel compelled to say that this is a very personal post for me and the only reason that I'm going into such detail is because I have a lot of readers who find me through the Babyloss Directory as well as Glow In The Woods. If this can help someone that's going though what I have, it's worth it to me to put myself out there like this. I wasn't so brave at first though and ended up deleting a post on this topic after publishing the first time.
So what's this about the cabbage leaves? Well, for some reason they work like a charm at drying up breast milk. I'm assuming there's some chemical in it but haven't done the research to back that up so if any of you know what their magical powers are, please share your knowledge with all of us by leaving a comment in the comments section.
All I did was insert cold cabbage leaves into my sports bra and once they began to wilt I replaced them with new ones. It only took a few days to work and dry up my supply.
I decided to do that with Luke and once again it worked like a charm. I was no longer engorged and in pain during the day so it was easy for me to resist the urge to feed him in order to relieve the pain. If I had fed him, my supply would have remained high and naturally, it wouldn't have helped the weaning process.
I think I was holding on to nursing because somehow in my mind, it meant that Luke was still my baby. In the end I am extremely proud that I committed to nursing him for so long. Longer than many do and I'm going to give myself credit for that.
Please let me know what your experiences with weaning were like. Are there any tips and tricks that you'd like to share?
Showing posts with label Stillbirth and loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stillbirth and loss. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Crazy Misunderstood
I just got back home from a nice, relaxing and much needed massage. I've done a number on my back. I think the combination of kickboxing, lifting Luke who is 35 lbs, carrying him up and down stairs, and pushing him in the stroller along with Ava attached via Buggy Board all around town, has really taken its toll.
I called for an appointment yesterday afternoon and got in for 9am this morning. I thought for a moment that it was going to stink to have to get up early and get out of the house to go but then realized how absolutely ridiculous that was. Yeah, God forbid I wake up a little early to go lay down for a 90 minute massage. That sooooooooooooooo hard! At least I can make fun of myself and get when I'm being ridiculous.
My massage therapist asked about the kids and I was telling her how Ava was off to Kindergarten in September. She asked how I felt about it expecting me to be sad but I'm really not. It's interesting because I hated the thought of putting her in pre-k. I was not ready to let her go at 3 years old. Kids are still so little then. They even still look like babies.
It was in the Fall of 2007 that we interviewed at her pre-school. Ava was only 2 at the time but would be entering their preschool program the following September at the age of three, if she, we, were accepted. I was pregnant with Luke at the time. Isabel had just been delivered a few months earlier and I was feeling so sad and scared wondering if Luke would actually come out alive. I had little interest in Ava being anywhere away from me, and here we were interviewing to send my baby girl away. May sound absolutely ridiculous and overly dramatic to you, but that's how it felt for me.
We found out that she was accepted into the schools 3 morning program on March 3rd of 2008. I remember because it was Stephen's Birthday. Two months later, Luke arrived via C-Section at 35 weeks, via emergency c-section due to complications with clotting. I realized that if I had not been at the Dr's office that day, that he would have died too and that and his short stint in the NICU due to the fact that he was having trouble breathing, had both me and Stephen completely unnerved. We had been through a lot in a one year span. Luke was actually meant to be delivered via c-section on June 19th, which was Isabel's delivery date.
We were both very afraid that Luke might have suffered some sort of brain damage due to the lack of oxygen at birth and once we were home we noticed that his breathing still didn't sound right. He was making really strange sounds. In order for me to get any sleep, my mom and sister went out and bought me one of those crib monitors for peace of mind. I knew that if he stopped breathing, an alarm would sound.
We see now that he's a strong, healthy little boy, who is smart as a whip! We didn't know what to expect then though because when he was in the NICU the Dr. kept finding these little things wrong with him. He ran a fever and was deficient in Vitamin C. It was one thing after the other. He even bares a scar on the top of his head which was caused by the IV the nurse had to put there for him to get the medications and vitamins he needed because it was the biggest vein she could find. She put it in wrong though and it dripped and caused the scarring.
School started in September and there I was with my little 3 year old girl and 4 month old son feeling shaken but at that point, no one knew what had happened to us and what we were going through.
I knew first hand that bad things did happen and that they happened to me.
I remember being completely freaked out the day we were told that the school would be taking the kids on a walking trip to the Hudson River and I was like, seriously? You're taking a bunch of 3 and 4 year olds to the River?! I envisioned one of them falling in, and by one of them, I mean Ava.
I'm pleased to report that no one fell in and all was smooth until the notice of lice in school came out 2 weeks before school was over. Once again, I'm thinking, if anyone's kid's gonna get it, it's gonna be my kid. I envisioned her coming home with it and passing it along to both me and Luke. Stephen was lucky, he's bald! There would be lice in the pillows and lice in the rugs. Yikes!
She didn't get lice though. Thankfully. After the school year was over though, I heard that one of the teachers said that some of the moms were crazy and actually called the school to see if there was lice in the classroom because God forbid their little darlings (or something to that affect) get lice.
I don't remember exactly because I was so overcome by the embarrassment at how I was being perceived.
As one of the "crazy" moms who called, was me.
I called for an appointment yesterday afternoon and got in for 9am this morning. I thought for a moment that it was going to stink to have to get up early and get out of the house to go but then realized how absolutely ridiculous that was. Yeah, God forbid I wake up a little early to go lay down for a 90 minute massage. That sooooooooooooooo hard! At least I can make fun of myself and get when I'm being ridiculous.
My massage therapist asked about the kids and I was telling her how Ava was off to Kindergarten in September. She asked how I felt about it expecting me to be sad but I'm really not. It's interesting because I hated the thought of putting her in pre-k. I was not ready to let her go at 3 years old. Kids are still so little then. They even still look like babies.
It was in the Fall of 2007 that we interviewed at her pre-school. Ava was only 2 at the time but would be entering their preschool program the following September at the age of three, if she, we, were accepted. I was pregnant with Luke at the time. Isabel had just been delivered a few months earlier and I was feeling so sad and scared wondering if Luke would actually come out alive. I had little interest in Ava being anywhere away from me, and here we were interviewing to send my baby girl away. May sound absolutely ridiculous and overly dramatic to you, but that's how it felt for me.
We found out that she was accepted into the schools 3 morning program on March 3rd of 2008. I remember because it was Stephen's Birthday. Two months later, Luke arrived via C-Section at 35 weeks, via emergency c-section due to complications with clotting. I realized that if I had not been at the Dr's office that day, that he would have died too and that and his short stint in the NICU due to the fact that he was having trouble breathing, had both me and Stephen completely unnerved. We had been through a lot in a one year span. Luke was actually meant to be delivered via c-section on June 19th, which was Isabel's delivery date.
We were both very afraid that Luke might have suffered some sort of brain damage due to the lack of oxygen at birth and once we were home we noticed that his breathing still didn't sound right. He was making really strange sounds. In order for me to get any sleep, my mom and sister went out and bought me one of those crib monitors for peace of mind. I knew that if he stopped breathing, an alarm would sound.
We see now that he's a strong, healthy little boy, who is smart as a whip! We didn't know what to expect then though because when he was in the NICU the Dr. kept finding these little things wrong with him. He ran a fever and was deficient in Vitamin C. It was one thing after the other. He even bares a scar on the top of his head which was caused by the IV the nurse had to put there for him to get the medications and vitamins he needed because it was the biggest vein she could find. She put it in wrong though and it dripped and caused the scarring.
School started in September and there I was with my little 3 year old girl and 4 month old son feeling shaken but at that point, no one knew what had happened to us and what we were going through.
I knew first hand that bad things did happen and that they happened to me.
I remember being completely freaked out the day we were told that the school would be taking the kids on a walking trip to the Hudson River and I was like, seriously? You're taking a bunch of 3 and 4 year olds to the River?! I envisioned one of them falling in, and by one of them, I mean Ava.
I'm pleased to report that no one fell in and all was smooth until the notice of lice in school came out 2 weeks before school was over. Once again, I'm thinking, if anyone's kid's gonna get it, it's gonna be my kid. I envisioned her coming home with it and passing it along to both me and Luke. Stephen was lucky, he's bald! There would be lice in the pillows and lice in the rugs. Yikes!
She didn't get lice though. Thankfully. After the school year was over though, I heard that one of the teachers said that some of the moms were crazy and actually called the school to see if there was lice in the classroom because God forbid their little darlings (or something to that affect) get lice.
I don't remember exactly because I was so overcome by the embarrassment at how I was being perceived.
As one of the "crazy" moms who called, was me.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Isabel's Rose
Three years ago today I was 6 1/2 months pregnant and learned that my babies heart stopped beating. Three years ago today, I was induced into labor and was told my baby Isabel would arrive the next day. It would be a "normal" delivery. Three years ago today, life as I knew it changed.
Things are ok now. I am blessed to have my Ava and I am blessed to have my son Luke. Still, I wonder what Isabel would have been like. Would her temperment have been like Luke's? Would she have been more like Ava?
When I held her in my arms I noticed that she looked just like me. I'm told by my sister that Luke looks just like me now.
I still have the cute little cranberry sweater with the teeny tiny buttons on the shoulder that I bought for her when I was pregnant , along with the cute little piggie outfit from Gymboree that I bought in hopes for her to wear once she arrived.
Her urn still sits in our hutch. I'm not ready to let any of it go. The clothes that were meant for her, will remain with me. She will too because I still can't stand the thought of burying her.
Two years ago, but not to this day, my father gave me this picture. It's a photo of one of the roses from Isabel's rose bush. I hung it on my fridge alongside all of the ones I had posted of Ava. I looked at it daily. I looked at it everytime I fixed a meal, everytime I got a drink, and everytime I made a snack (which is a whole lot of viewings a day because you all know how much I love my snacks).
It was one year ago today that I posted this picture of Isabel's rose in honor of her on my Facebook page. It was one year ago today that my friend Sally asked if one of the petals was really heart shaped. I didn't know what she was talking about so I had to go back and take another look at the picture.
I couldn't believe my eyes. There it was right in front of me all of that time and I never noticed it before.
I asked her if she thought it was a sign and she said that she was sure of it and that she was convinced that it was Isabel sending me her love.
It was one year ago today that a friend opened my eyes to a heart shaped petal that restored a little bit of my Faith.
Tomorrow is June 19th, Isabel's delivery date. It was also my maternal Grandfather, Joseph's Birthday. I remember my mom telling us that it was his Birthday in the hospital while my dad was holding Isabel in his arms. My dad immediately looked down at Isabel and smiled and said, "Filomena's got you now." Filomena was my maternal Grandmother. It was one of the most poignant moments in my life.
Tomorrow Stephen and I have plans to go out to dinner to celebrate Father's Day and we will celebrate because we have two little ones to be very grateful for.
Tomorrow I imagine there will also be a big celebration in Heaven.
I'm sending them all my love.
Things are ok now. I am blessed to have my Ava and I am blessed to have my son Luke. Still, I wonder what Isabel would have been like. Would her temperment have been like Luke's? Would she have been more like Ava?
When I held her in my arms I noticed that she looked just like me. I'm told by my sister that Luke looks just like me now.
I still have the cute little cranberry sweater with the teeny tiny buttons on the shoulder that I bought for her when I was pregnant , along with the cute little piggie outfit from Gymboree that I bought in hopes for her to wear once she arrived.
Her urn still sits in our hutch. I'm not ready to let any of it go. The clothes that were meant for her, will remain with me. She will too because I still can't stand the thought of burying her.
About a week after Isabel's delivery, I received a note in the mail from Gerri and Georgie, my mom's cousins, telling us that they sent a rose bush in honor of her to my parents house to be planted in her memory.
It was one year ago today that I posted this picture of Isabel's rose in honor of her on my Facebook page. It was one year ago today that my friend Sally asked if one of the petals was really heart shaped. I didn't know what she was talking about so I had to go back and take another look at the picture.
I couldn't believe my eyes. There it was right in front of me all of that time and I never noticed it before.
I asked her if she thought it was a sign and she said that she was sure of it and that she was convinced that it was Isabel sending me her love.
It was one year ago today that a friend opened my eyes to a heart shaped petal that restored a little bit of my Faith.
Tomorrow is June 19th, Isabel's delivery date. It was also my maternal Grandfather, Joseph's Birthday. I remember my mom telling us that it was his Birthday in the hospital while my dad was holding Isabel in his arms. My dad immediately looked down at Isabel and smiled and said, "Filomena's got you now." Filomena was my maternal Grandmother. It was one of the most poignant moments in my life.
Tomorrow Stephen and I have plans to go out to dinner to celebrate Father's Day and we will celebrate because we have two little ones to be very grateful for.
Tomorrow I imagine there will also be a big celebration in Heaven.
I'm sending them all my love.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Changed for Good
This has been the year of the Broadway show for me and I've been loving every minute of it. I've seen both Lion King and Wicked for the 2nd time, God of Carnage, Next to Normal, we've got tickets for A Behanding in Spokane (Stephen's pick because he's a huge Christopher Walken fan) and we're also planning on taking Ava to see Mary Poppins as one of her Birthday gifts.
I've always loved seeing shows and have seen quite a lot of them in the past, but really hadn't visited the theatre much in recent years. Now the kids are getting to an age where they're happy to stay with a babysitter, which is making it easier to go out. We live minutes from the city, so it seems silly not to take advantage of all that's at our fingertips and it's been a great year so far in the sense that I'm coming back to who I am. Doing things that I love. I'm feeling quite fortunate.
I'm a sensistive soul though and find myself tearing up at some of the performances. The talent is amazing and some of the songs so touching. The following words from the song "For Good" from Wicked really touched me and got me thinking.
"I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason bringing something we must learn, and we are led to those who help us most to grow, if we let them and we help them in return. Well, I don't know if I believe that's true But I know I'm who I am today Because I knew you"..."Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But because I knew you I have been changed for good."
I sat there in the theatre and started looking back on my life. I thought of all of those who have touched it in both positive and negative ways. All bringing forth lessons. All have helped me to grow, even if the lessons I learned were hard, and ones I didn't want to learn.
I thought of Isabel too. I was flooded with memories of her delivery. I remembered holding her in my arms. Measuring her tiny foot against my pinky finer. I remembered how devastaed I was when I had to let her go...."So let me say before we part, so much of me is made of what I learned from you. You'll be with me like a handprint on my heart. And now whatever way our stories end. I know you have re-written mine."
Life is tough. But, I am stronger for having her. I am fortunate to have held her in my arms, even if it was only for one day.
It's true that I have become tougher, I no longer just let things go. I have less tolerance for the bullshit. I see things and people very clearly now. I stand up for myself. I speak out. Who can say if I've been changed for the better? I can say that I have been changed for good.
I see my daughter Ava learning tough lessons at such a young age and it breaks my heart, but they are lessons she must learn. I see so much of myself in her.
There are those who come into our lives and lift our spirits. I received a note from a friend recently that I will hold on to forever....
One day recently, I could tell that she was having a tough day...she looked so sad, so I wanted to do something for her, to show her that I was there for her. I knew that she liked these chocolate covered pretzels that I make so I whipped some up to give her the next day. Not a big deal, just a little something. In turn, she did something so kind. She sent me a note of thanks and like I said, it's one that I will keep forever. In it she wrote, "You have eyes that see. What a gift." Such a simple sentence, but one that touched me so deeply and lifted me up. Her words are those I will never forget.
My daughter Ava is blessed with eyes that see. She's a very empathetic, caring, and kind hearted kid. It is my prayer for her that she has the strength to stand up for herself, to recognize who her friends are, and that life's tough lessons don't weaken her spirit, but in fact, build her up and make her even stronger.
I believe that they will.
"People come into our lives for a reason bringing something we must learn, and we are led to those who help us most to grow."
And we are changed for good.
I've always loved seeing shows and have seen quite a lot of them in the past, but really hadn't visited the theatre much in recent years. Now the kids are getting to an age where they're happy to stay with a babysitter, which is making it easier to go out. We live minutes from the city, so it seems silly not to take advantage of all that's at our fingertips and it's been a great year so far in the sense that I'm coming back to who I am. Doing things that I love. I'm feeling quite fortunate.
I'm a sensistive soul though and find myself tearing up at some of the performances. The talent is amazing and some of the songs so touching. The following words from the song "For Good" from Wicked really touched me and got me thinking.
"I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason bringing something we must learn, and we are led to those who help us most to grow, if we let them and we help them in return. Well, I don't know if I believe that's true But I know I'm who I am today Because I knew you"..."Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But because I knew you I have been changed for good."
I sat there in the theatre and started looking back on my life. I thought of all of those who have touched it in both positive and negative ways. All bringing forth lessons. All have helped me to grow, even if the lessons I learned were hard, and ones I didn't want to learn.
I thought of Isabel too. I was flooded with memories of her delivery. I remembered holding her in my arms. Measuring her tiny foot against my pinky finer. I remembered how devastaed I was when I had to let her go...."So let me say before we part, so much of me is made of what I learned from you. You'll be with me like a handprint on my heart. And now whatever way our stories end. I know you have re-written mine."
Life is tough. But, I am stronger for having her. I am fortunate to have held her in my arms, even if it was only for one day.
It's true that I have become tougher, I no longer just let things go. I have less tolerance for the bullshit. I see things and people very clearly now. I stand up for myself. I speak out. Who can say if I've been changed for the better? I can say that I have been changed for good.
I see my daughter Ava learning tough lessons at such a young age and it breaks my heart, but they are lessons she must learn. I see so much of myself in her.
There are those who come into our lives and lift our spirits. I received a note from a friend recently that I will hold on to forever....
One day recently, I could tell that she was having a tough day...she looked so sad, so I wanted to do something for her, to show her that I was there for her. I knew that she liked these chocolate covered pretzels that I make so I whipped some up to give her the next day. Not a big deal, just a little something. In turn, she did something so kind. She sent me a note of thanks and like I said, it's one that I will keep forever. In it she wrote, "You have eyes that see. What a gift." Such a simple sentence, but one that touched me so deeply and lifted me up. Her words are those I will never forget.
My daughter Ava is blessed with eyes that see. She's a very empathetic, caring, and kind hearted kid. It is my prayer for her that she has the strength to stand up for herself, to recognize who her friends are, and that life's tough lessons don't weaken her spirit, but in fact, build her up and make her even stronger.
I believe that they will.
"People come into our lives for a reason bringing something we must learn, and we are led to those who help us most to grow."
And we are changed for good.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Simple Abundance
In one of my first ever posts, Who Is That Woman Staring Back at Me, I wrote about looking in the mirror and not even recognizing my own face anymore. For those of you who know me personally, and for those who read my blog, you know that in between my daughter and son, I had a stillborn baby girl, Isabel. It took a great toll on me emotionally and life for me will forever be divided into the time before I found out that my babies heart stopped beating, and life afterwards.
I know that you can relate, because we have all suffered loss. A good friend of mine recently lost her mother. The other day I looked at one of the photos she posted of herself. In the photo, she was smiling, but her eyes told another story. They were glassy. They looked so sad. My heart broke for her, knowing how difficult her road is right now, and how only time can begin to ease her grief. Her life forever divided into the time before her mom died and her life afterwards.
About 15 years ago, my mom gave me a book called Simple Abundance. I was very young then, just beginning to live my life, so it wasn't a book I could relate to at the time. Simple Abundance went unread for all of these years. Still, I've carried it around with me from state to state, and apartment to apartment throughout my life's journey.
For some reason, I felt inspired to take it out from our bookshelf last night and began to read. It is clearly meant for me at this time in my life, as one of the first entries discusses looking in the mirror and not even recognizing your own face. Apparantly, this phenomenon is real and has a name, it's called "displacement of self." The book goes on to say that this happens in times of great stress.
But there are every day stresses that we face as women. That we face as mothers. Especially, as mothers of small children. For example, I've been trying to write this post for about an hour now and my son has come over to me 4 times already to be nursed (I have got to get him off of the breast!), one of my daughters toys is "singing" and there is some sort of disagreement going on about a toy.
On top of the chaos going on with the kids, I've gotten two phone calls while trying to write. I am thinking about my messy apartment, the laundry that I should be doing, and wondering if the chicken that I took out for dinner tonight willl be defrosted in time.
I am being pulled in all different directions.
I am growing more and more frustrated because all I really want to do is get this post done, because writing is something for me, something I've been doing to get back to who I am. Right now, it seems impossible, and is becoming a great source of stress.
But, as the late, great, John Lennon said, "Life is What Happens to you while you are busy making other plans."
So, as the author of Simple Abundance suggests, even though I'm feeling a little harried, I am going to focus on all that I have to be grateful for. I will start a journal and every day I will write down 5 of the things that I have to be grateful for on that given day. Today, I will share them with you.
1) My beautiful daughter Ava, and the blessing of a perfect and joyful pregnancy with her.
2) The day I spent holding my daughter Isabel and the fact that my sister, mother and father came to my side that day, and held my baby too.
3) Dr. Manny Alvarez, the physician who took such good care of me during my pregnancy with Luke, and who ultimately saved my sons life. I thank God every day for Luke.
4) Being a stay at home mom.
5) The 3 bedroom, city apartment, that I am going to have to spend the rest of my day cleaning.
What 5 things do you feel grateful for today?
I know that you can relate, because we have all suffered loss. A good friend of mine recently lost her mother. The other day I looked at one of the photos she posted of herself. In the photo, she was smiling, but her eyes told another story. They were glassy. They looked so sad. My heart broke for her, knowing how difficult her road is right now, and how only time can begin to ease her grief. Her life forever divided into the time before her mom died and her life afterwards.
About 15 years ago, my mom gave me a book called Simple Abundance. I was very young then, just beginning to live my life, so it wasn't a book I could relate to at the time. Simple Abundance went unread for all of these years. Still, I've carried it around with me from state to state, and apartment to apartment throughout my life's journey.
For some reason, I felt inspired to take it out from our bookshelf last night and began to read. It is clearly meant for me at this time in my life, as one of the first entries discusses looking in the mirror and not even recognizing your own face. Apparantly, this phenomenon is real and has a name, it's called "displacement of self." The book goes on to say that this happens in times of great stress.
But there are every day stresses that we face as women. That we face as mothers. Especially, as mothers of small children. For example, I've been trying to write this post for about an hour now and my son has come over to me 4 times already to be nursed (I have got to get him off of the breast!), one of my daughters toys is "singing" and there is some sort of disagreement going on about a toy.
On top of the chaos going on with the kids, I've gotten two phone calls while trying to write. I am thinking about my messy apartment, the laundry that I should be doing, and wondering if the chicken that I took out for dinner tonight willl be defrosted in time.
I am being pulled in all different directions.
I am growing more and more frustrated because all I really want to do is get this post done, because writing is something for me, something I've been doing to get back to who I am. Right now, it seems impossible, and is becoming a great source of stress.
But, as the late, great, John Lennon said, "Life is What Happens to you while you are busy making other plans."
So, as the author of Simple Abundance suggests, even though I'm feeling a little harried, I am going to focus on all that I have to be grateful for. I will start a journal and every day I will write down 5 of the things that I have to be grateful for on that given day. Today, I will share them with you.
1) My beautiful daughter Ava, and the blessing of a perfect and joyful pregnancy with her.
2) The day I spent holding my daughter Isabel and the fact that my sister, mother and father came to my side that day, and held my baby too.
3) Dr. Manny Alvarez, the physician who took such good care of me during my pregnancy with Luke, and who ultimately saved my sons life. I thank God every day for Luke.
4) Being a stay at home mom.
5) The 3 bedroom, city apartment, that I am going to have to spend the rest of my day cleaning.
What 5 things do you feel grateful for today?
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Subway to Heaven
Last night, before bed, my daughter told me she missed Isabel.
She doesn't mention her very often, so I'm always taken aback when she does.
She was so little when Isabel was delivered...just two years old, so obviously, I know that she can't really miss her.
That being said, I told her that I missed her too, and then assured her that we would all be together someday in Heaven.
She said, "I don't think so."
I asked, why not?
"Heaven is just too many train rides away, don't ya think?"
She doesn't mention her very often, so I'm always taken aback when she does.
She was so little when Isabel was delivered...just two years old, so obviously, I know that she can't really miss her.
That being said, I told her that I missed her too, and then assured her that we would all be together someday in Heaven.
She said, "I don't think so."
I asked, why not?
"Heaven is just too many train rides away, don't ya think?"
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Trusting Ourselves and Our Instincts
After all of the mental turmoil I've endured at the hands of my former Physicians, the only local Doctor that I trust now is my kids Pediatrician.
I remember seeing Isabel curled up in a ball, just floating there, on my 20 week ultrasound. So much so that the ultrasound tech couldn't even get a measurement for her nose or lips. I was scared to death. Stephen was too. We could tell that there was something wrong. I told my former OB how scared I was but he didn't take me seriously. He said the baby was probably just sleeping.
We went back about a week later so the ultrasound tech could try again. This time they got the measurements, but Isabel was still curled up in a ball, hardly moving at all. Stephen and I were extremely worried at this point. I brought my concerns up to my Dr. again, but again, the Dr. said that there was nothing to worry about.
However, about a week later my OB called with news from the High Risk Specialist. This practice, as well as most, send their patients out to High Risk Specialists for the ultrasounds. The specialist told my former OB that Isabel had a 2 vessel umbilical cord. A normal umbilical cord has 3 vessels. He told me again, that it was nothing to worry about, but they would have me come in once a month for an ultrasound to make sure that the baby was growing properly. I want to note right now though, that when we finally got the Autopsy Report, it revealed that Isabel did not have a 2-vessel cord after all, she had a 3 vessel cord.
Stephen and I were freaked out at this point, so I went ahead and made an appointment for us to meet with the High Risk Specialist ourselves. At our meeting I asked about the babies well-being, due to the alleged 2 vessel cord, and I asked if I was going to need an amniocentesis to check the babies overall health. He said NO and told us both again, that there was nothing to worry about and that I was going to give birth to a totally healthy baby girl.
After Isabel died though, I went ahead and obtained all of my medical records and it was then that I saw the brazen lie in my chart. The High Risk physicians correspondence to my former OB stated that he did indeed, recommend amniocentesis due to all of the things that could go wrong with a baby with a 2 vessel cord, and that I DECLINED! I felt shocked and betrayed. I trusted him. I trusted them all.
I called my OB's office immediately and another Dr called me back. He said that he believed me but was sure that the High Risk Specialist really did believe that my baby was fine, but lied in my chart to cover his butt should anything go wrong and I wanted to sue, as a Dr's written word is more valuable in a court of law than the word of his patients. He went on to say that it was a good thing that my husband was in the meeting with me, and heard what really happened so I could not be portrayed as another "hormonal pregnant woman."
The truth of the matter is that had Isabel lived, I would have never discovered the lie in my chart. People don't typically request medical records unless things go horribly wrong.
Now, the story of the Autopsy....
I called my former OB's office a couple times looking for the Autopsy Report and I wasn't getting anywhere. The receptionist was curt and rude to me, so I decided that I wasn't going to deal with her anymore and that I was going to start calling the Coroner directly.
He was kind enough to take my phone call but unfortunately for me, mixed my baby up with someone else's in his mind, and told me that he saw serious problems with Isabel's heart and sent it to a specialist in Brooklyn. Yes, seriously. Now, for a whole month I believed that there was something wrong with my babies heart, until he finally realized his mistake and revealed that Isabel's heart was there in the hospital the whole time and was fine. There was nothing wrong with her heart. Oops.
Now about 2 months have passed and I finally have the Autopsy Report in hand and lo' and behold, another shocker, the Autopsy findings revealed that Isabel actually didn't have a 2-vessel cord either. Isabel had a 3 vessel cord, as she should have. The Coroner told me that this was a very important find. It sure was.
He went on to explain to me that Dr’s can’t give their patients proper care because they have to take on too many patients to afford their outrageous insurance premiums. I had just gone through 14 hours of labor and the subsequent delivery of my stillborn daughter. My OB wasn't even there come delivery time. There were 2 residents there on staff that day. The Dr's said nothing would turn up on the autopsy but not having an autopsy done on Isabel was out of the question. There was no way that I was not going to cover all of my bases. Now, I was to understand that the Dr’s couldn’t possibly take care of me and my baby because they have to take on more patients than they can handle because of the insurance companies? We all have a big problem on our hands then.
After Isabel's delivery, I remember the nurses would bring her to me but then after a while would take her away. This went on for what seemed like forever. In the end the nurses told me that it was time to bring her down to the morgue. I asked to hold her one more time to say goodbye. I didn't want to let her go but I knew it was time...she had grown so cold in my arms.
Having endured all of this, I did not accept the Dr's explanation that Isabel's death was a "fluke, just bad luck." I knew that there had to be something else going on and there was no way that I could endure having another stillborn, so I began to ask other women if they had any recommendations for another High Risk Specialist. I was led to another hospital with Dr's, who in the end, determined what went wrong and gave me my son.
The High Risk specialist that was recommended to me looked at my chart for about 5 minutes and told me that it was his opinion that my baby did not die from a two vessel cord and at this point, the autopsy results weren't even in yet. He told me he thought I had Gestational Thrombophilia and that there were "red flags all over my chart." He took 14 vials of blood that day. Side note... my new Dr's recommend women be tested for Gestational Thrombophilia after enduring THREE or more miscarriages or ONE Stillbirth.
I am grateful for my new physicians for taking me on, for determining course of treatment, watching me closely and giving me my son. Had I not been medicated from conception with him, not only would my son have died, a pregnancy for me without blood thinners could prove fatal for me as well.
I'm sharing my story in the hopes that I may empower other women to trust in themselves and their instincts. As you can see from what I have endured, our physicians are not always right. Whether it be a lack of knowledge on their parts, that their priorities are wrong because there is too much focus on how to cover their butts to avoid lawsuits, instead of spending the time caring for their patients, or whether patients are slipping through the cracks because the physicians have taken on more patients than they can handle, doesn't matter.
None of these reasons are acceptable. What happened to us isn't ok.
I will spend the rest of my life wondering if Isabel would be here with us today if I had just gone for a 2nd opinion and switched physicians. Would my new Dr's been able to save her? I ignored my instincts and listened to my former Dr's because they were the ones with the medical degrees. I trusted them. Maybe it was too late for Isabel at that point. I don't know. I know for a fact though that had I not followed my instincts after Isabel died, that my son would not be here with me today.
That is a fact.
My former Dr's thought Isabel's death was a fluke, just bad luck, they told me that I could wait a couple of cycles and try again. That wasn't true though. My instincts told me to seek out new physicians and those physicians determined that I needed specialized care. I needed blood thinners. I needed Dr's who were going to be watching me on an almost weekly basis. Even with the medication, my son needed to be delivered at 35 weeks. Thankfully my new Dr's took me seriously, medicated me and kept a close eye. For as grateful as I am to God and my new Doctors, I know that my son would not be here with us today if it weren't for my instincts and perseverance.
I realize that most people have pregnancies like the one I had with my daughter. Aside from all of the morning sickness, it was perfect. I loved my Dr. at the time because he was a nice guy, but other than performing the c-section for a 10 lb 13oz baby, there wasn't anything involved in my pregnancy with her that anyone had to worry about. Then came Isabel and it all fell apart. Everyone took for granted that I should have non-eventful perfect pregnancies because I had one child already. That lax attitude had grave consequences for my Isabel, and could very well have ended in grave consequences for my son.
I was hesitant to blog about this because sharing my story has resulted in a lot of pain for me at times and I don't want to be hurt anymore than I have. In the end, although difficult, I decided to post this because if I could help one woman trust in herself, then it will have been worth it to me.
I have a lot of respect for my kids Pediatrician...well, so far, so good, and before I even had to go into my whole spiel about my lack of trust in local physicians, he had already written a referral for an eye specialist for my daughter in Manhattan. "They're the best," he said.
I remember seeing Isabel curled up in a ball, just floating there, on my 20 week ultrasound. So much so that the ultrasound tech couldn't even get a measurement for her nose or lips. I was scared to death. Stephen was too. We could tell that there was something wrong. I told my former OB how scared I was but he didn't take me seriously. He said the baby was probably just sleeping.
We went back about a week later so the ultrasound tech could try again. This time they got the measurements, but Isabel was still curled up in a ball, hardly moving at all. Stephen and I were extremely worried at this point. I brought my concerns up to my Dr. again, but again, the Dr. said that there was nothing to worry about.
However, about a week later my OB called with news from the High Risk Specialist. This practice, as well as most, send their patients out to High Risk Specialists for the ultrasounds. The specialist told my former OB that Isabel had a 2 vessel umbilical cord. A normal umbilical cord has 3 vessels. He told me again, that it was nothing to worry about, but they would have me come in once a month for an ultrasound to make sure that the baby was growing properly. I want to note right now though, that when we finally got the Autopsy Report, it revealed that Isabel did not have a 2-vessel cord after all, she had a 3 vessel cord.
Stephen and I were freaked out at this point, so I went ahead and made an appointment for us to meet with the High Risk Specialist ourselves. At our meeting I asked about the babies well-being, due to the alleged 2 vessel cord, and I asked if I was going to need an amniocentesis to check the babies overall health. He said NO and told us both again, that there was nothing to worry about and that I was going to give birth to a totally healthy baby girl.
After Isabel died though, I went ahead and obtained all of my medical records and it was then that I saw the brazen lie in my chart. The High Risk physicians correspondence to my former OB stated that he did indeed, recommend amniocentesis due to all of the things that could go wrong with a baby with a 2 vessel cord, and that I DECLINED! I felt shocked and betrayed. I trusted him. I trusted them all.
I called my OB's office immediately and another Dr called me back. He said that he believed me but was sure that the High Risk Specialist really did believe that my baby was fine, but lied in my chart to cover his butt should anything go wrong and I wanted to sue, as a Dr's written word is more valuable in a court of law than the word of his patients. He went on to say that it was a good thing that my husband was in the meeting with me, and heard what really happened so I could not be portrayed as another "hormonal pregnant woman."
The truth of the matter is that had Isabel lived, I would have never discovered the lie in my chart. People don't typically request medical records unless things go horribly wrong.
Now, the story of the Autopsy....
I called my former OB's office a couple times looking for the Autopsy Report and I wasn't getting anywhere. The receptionist was curt and rude to me, so I decided that I wasn't going to deal with her anymore and that I was going to start calling the Coroner directly.
He was kind enough to take my phone call but unfortunately for me, mixed my baby up with someone else's in his mind, and told me that he saw serious problems with Isabel's heart and sent it to a specialist in Brooklyn. Yes, seriously. Now, for a whole month I believed that there was something wrong with my babies heart, until he finally realized his mistake and revealed that Isabel's heart was there in the hospital the whole time and was fine. There was nothing wrong with her heart. Oops.
Now about 2 months have passed and I finally have the Autopsy Report in hand and lo' and behold, another shocker, the Autopsy findings revealed that Isabel actually didn't have a 2-vessel cord either. Isabel had a 3 vessel cord, as she should have. The Coroner told me that this was a very important find. It sure was.
He went on to explain to me that Dr’s can’t give their patients proper care because they have to take on too many patients to afford their outrageous insurance premiums. I had just gone through 14 hours of labor and the subsequent delivery of my stillborn daughter. My OB wasn't even there come delivery time. There were 2 residents there on staff that day. The Dr's said nothing would turn up on the autopsy but not having an autopsy done on Isabel was out of the question. There was no way that I was not going to cover all of my bases. Now, I was to understand that the Dr’s couldn’t possibly take care of me and my baby because they have to take on more patients than they can handle because of the insurance companies? We all have a big problem on our hands then.
After Isabel's delivery, I remember the nurses would bring her to me but then after a while would take her away. This went on for what seemed like forever. In the end the nurses told me that it was time to bring her down to the morgue. I asked to hold her one more time to say goodbye. I didn't want to let her go but I knew it was time...she had grown so cold in my arms.
Having endured all of this, I did not accept the Dr's explanation that Isabel's death was a "fluke, just bad luck." I knew that there had to be something else going on and there was no way that I could endure having another stillborn, so I began to ask other women if they had any recommendations for another High Risk Specialist. I was led to another hospital with Dr's, who in the end, determined what went wrong and gave me my son.
The High Risk specialist that was recommended to me looked at my chart for about 5 minutes and told me that it was his opinion that my baby did not die from a two vessel cord and at this point, the autopsy results weren't even in yet. He told me he thought I had Gestational Thrombophilia and that there were "red flags all over my chart." He took 14 vials of blood that day. Side note... my new Dr's recommend women be tested for Gestational Thrombophilia after enduring THREE or more miscarriages or ONE Stillbirth.
I am grateful for my new physicians for taking me on, for determining course of treatment, watching me closely and giving me my son. Had I not been medicated from conception with him, not only would my son have died, a pregnancy for me without blood thinners could prove fatal for me as well.
I'm sharing my story in the hopes that I may empower other women to trust in themselves and their instincts. As you can see from what I have endured, our physicians are not always right. Whether it be a lack of knowledge on their parts, that their priorities are wrong because there is too much focus on how to cover their butts to avoid lawsuits, instead of spending the time caring for their patients, or whether patients are slipping through the cracks because the physicians have taken on more patients than they can handle, doesn't matter.
None of these reasons are acceptable. What happened to us isn't ok.
I will spend the rest of my life wondering if Isabel would be here with us today if I had just gone for a 2nd opinion and switched physicians. Would my new Dr's been able to save her? I ignored my instincts and listened to my former Dr's because they were the ones with the medical degrees. I trusted them. Maybe it was too late for Isabel at that point. I don't know. I know for a fact though that had I not followed my instincts after Isabel died, that my son would not be here with me today.
That is a fact.
My former Dr's thought Isabel's death was a fluke, just bad luck, they told me that I could wait a couple of cycles and try again. That wasn't true though. My instincts told me to seek out new physicians and those physicians determined that I needed specialized care. I needed blood thinners. I needed Dr's who were going to be watching me on an almost weekly basis. Even with the medication, my son needed to be delivered at 35 weeks. Thankfully my new Dr's took me seriously, medicated me and kept a close eye. For as grateful as I am to God and my new Doctors, I know that my son would not be here with us today if it weren't for my instincts and perseverance.
I realize that most people have pregnancies like the one I had with my daughter. Aside from all of the morning sickness, it was perfect. I loved my Dr. at the time because he was a nice guy, but other than performing the c-section for a 10 lb 13oz baby, there wasn't anything involved in my pregnancy with her that anyone had to worry about. Then came Isabel and it all fell apart. Everyone took for granted that I should have non-eventful perfect pregnancies because I had one child already. That lax attitude had grave consequences for my Isabel, and could very well have ended in grave consequences for my son.
I was hesitant to blog about this because sharing my story has resulted in a lot of pain for me at times and I don't want to be hurt anymore than I have. In the end, although difficult, I decided to post this because if I could help one woman trust in herself, then it will have been worth it to me.
I have a lot of respect for my kids Pediatrician...well, so far, so good, and before I even had to go into my whole spiel about my lack of trust in local physicians, he had already written a referral for an eye specialist for my daughter in Manhattan. "They're the best," he said.
Monday, September 28, 2009
I Am Wherever You Are
I have been operating way outside my comfort zone lately and it has me all out of sorts. I hate feeling this way. I am mostly unbelievably happy and optimistic about my blog, but sometimes I'm riddled with doubt.
I find this emotional rollercoaster that I'm on has me feeling a little off-kilter. We were at a party this weekend and although I was having a great time, I still sometimes feel a little uncomfortable when there's a lot of people around, mainly when there's a lot of people that I don't know well or haven't seen in a while. Unfortunately for me, and anyone standing next to me, when I feel uncomfortable, you just can't shut me up. I do not stop talking. I'm always thinking, "hmm, what can I talk about next?" and I talk and talk and talk and then start to feel uncomfortable by the fact that I'm talking so much.
I had to remove myself and my nervous chatter from the party for a couple minutes and went back to my apartment alone. I sat on the couch staring at the book that I have displayed on the mantle in our living room. It's called, I am Wherever You Are, (In the light of loss, paintings by N.A. Noel). It's a beautiful book that was given to me by a close friend a few weeks after Isabel was delivered. The paintings and poems still move me to tears.
and then
"It's gonna be ok Mommy," was what my then, 2 year old daughter, said to me one day soon after Isabel's delivery. I had been resting in bed and she came into the room to see me. I was so sad and here my amazing little girl was comforting me.
And she was right...it's gonna be ok. Because, although there are still days like today, where I think of Isabel and feel a little sad, I know that I am blessed.
I am blessed in that, it is on most days, whether at the park with my daughter and son, or reading to them and mostly in times when we are just sitting still, and one or both of them are on my lap, that I am overwhelmed with feelings of profound joy and love and gratitude.
I find this emotional rollercoaster that I'm on has me feeling a little off-kilter. We were at a party this weekend and although I was having a great time, I still sometimes feel a little uncomfortable when there's a lot of people around, mainly when there's a lot of people that I don't know well or haven't seen in a while. Unfortunately for me, and anyone standing next to me, when I feel uncomfortable, you just can't shut me up. I do not stop talking. I'm always thinking, "hmm, what can I talk about next?" and I talk and talk and talk and then start to feel uncomfortable by the fact that I'm talking so much.
I had to remove myself and my nervous chatter from the party for a couple minutes and went back to my apartment alone. I sat on the couch staring at the book that I have displayed on the mantle in our living room. It's called, I am Wherever You Are, (In the light of loss, paintings by N.A. Noel). It's a beautiful book that was given to me by a close friend a few weeks after Isabel was delivered. The paintings and poems still move me to tears.
I had received the package while headed out one day to a follow up visit at my OB/GYN's. When I arrived at my Dr's office, I was left sitting there in the waiting room, surrounded by all of these pregnant women for what seemed like an eternity. It was a difficult time. I was still carrying an extra 30 lbs and looked like I had just had a baby, but I had no baby to hold. My body didn't realize that my baby had died so I was still producing milk, but had no baby to feed. I didn't know what to do with myself around all of these pregnant women, so I decided to open up the package I was sent, and once I did, I saw this beautiful book sent to comfort me and I began reading the excerpts.
"It is not always ours to understand why morning passes to midnight without full chance of day. But in the darkest hours, the light you were given, however briefly, will shine above you...in the stars and in the eyes of an angel". - P.S. Points
and then
"The sweet Angels take us to peace, never fear, quietly, lovingly, the Angels come." - Marshall Stewart Ball
and then
"The time may be delayed, the manner may be unexpected, but the answer is sure to come. Not a tear of sacred sorrow, not a breath of holy desire, poured out to God will ever be lost, but in God's own time and way will be wafted back again in clouds of mercy, and fall in showers of blessings on you, and on those for whom you pray." - Saint Therese
I was moved to tears and felt so comforted by these beautiful poems and paintings. I also felt comforted and loved and understood by my friend. The book was a perfect gift and one I will treasure for the rest of my life.
It's been two years, and naturally as time passes, the sting of it all eases. The birth of my son has brought us all great joy. I don't know who I would be now if he were not here with me. I am so grateful for him.
Still, there are times when I get these waves of intense grief. The other day someone announced that a little baby girl was born and I got all choked up. This morning at kickboxing Sarah McLaughlin's song Angel was playing during abs and I got all teary again.
And she was right...it's gonna be ok. Because, although there are still days like today, where I think of Isabel and feel a little sad, I know that I am blessed.
I am blessed in that, it is on most days, whether at the park with my daughter and son, or reading to them and mostly in times when we are just sitting still, and one or both of them are on my lap, that I am overwhelmed with feelings of profound joy and love and gratitude.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Who is that woman staring back at me?
Ever look in the mirror and feel like you don't even recognize your own face? That is what happened to me.
When I was growing up I was always outside running around playing some sort of sport. Started playing baseball as a kid, made Varsity softball as a freshman in High School and also played on my co-ed church team for years. Then I became sedentary.
I was always a huge music lover. My dad jokes that when I was a kid I used to shout out, "I love this song" after every single song that the DJ played on the radio. I began playing piano when I was five years old, and took up French horn and clarinet in High School. Now I hardly even listen to music. I don't even own an I-pod.
My children are everything to me and their world has become my world. Which is great and important but I began to realize that anytime anyone asked me what I had been up to, I immediately started telling them what my daughter was up to.
In between our daughter and son, I had a stillborn baby girl. Her name is Isabel. I will talk about her in another blog post but when she died, so did a part of me. So did a part of my husband. I was already someone who was afraid. There was always this little voice in my head saying, "don't do this or don't do that, you couldn't possibly pull it off, it's not going to work out" and then the unimaginable happened...something so terrible and unexpected and for two full years after her loss, I walked around wondering when the other shoe was going to drop.
I would look at photos taken of me after I had her and I'd notice how tired and sad my eyes were. I didn't want to look like that in my pictures so whenever anyone got ready to take a picture of me, I started opening up my eyes really really wide in hopes that the picture of me was going to be a good one. You can imagine how that worked out for me.
I am determined to get back to me. I want to feel good. I want my kids to be proud of me. I want to be the best mom that I can be. I started back at WW in February and in March started kickboxing 2-3 times a week. I've lost a significant amount of weight and am down to where I was back in High School. Kickboxing has been absolutely amazing for me both physically and mentally. I am finally active again.
I have always loved to write and was very impressed by friends who are mommy bloggers. I thought to myself, "Wow, that's so much fun, I would love to do that, but no, I couldn't possibly." And then I reminded myself that I have to stop being so afraid of everything. So, with a little encouragement and help from a friend, here I am.
When I was growing up I was always outside running around playing some sort of sport. Started playing baseball as a kid, made Varsity softball as a freshman in High School and also played on my co-ed church team for years. Then I became sedentary.
I was always a huge music lover. My dad jokes that when I was a kid I used to shout out, "I love this song" after every single song that the DJ played on the radio. I began playing piano when I was five years old, and took up French horn and clarinet in High School. Now I hardly even listen to music. I don't even own an I-pod.
My children are everything to me and their world has become my world. Which is great and important but I began to realize that anytime anyone asked me what I had been up to, I immediately started telling them what my daughter was up to.
In between our daughter and son, I had a stillborn baby girl. Her name is Isabel. I will talk about her in another blog post but when she died, so did a part of me. So did a part of my husband. I was already someone who was afraid. There was always this little voice in my head saying, "don't do this or don't do that, you couldn't possibly pull it off, it's not going to work out" and then the unimaginable happened...something so terrible and unexpected and for two full years after her loss, I walked around wondering when the other shoe was going to drop.
I would look at photos taken of me after I had her and I'd notice how tired and sad my eyes were. I didn't want to look like that in my pictures so whenever anyone got ready to take a picture of me, I started opening up my eyes really really wide in hopes that the picture of me was going to be a good one. You can imagine how that worked out for me.
I am determined to get back to me. I want to feel good. I want my kids to be proud of me. I want to be the best mom that I can be. I started back at WW in February and in March started kickboxing 2-3 times a week. I've lost a significant amount of weight and am down to where I was back in High School. Kickboxing has been absolutely amazing for me both physically and mentally. I am finally active again.
I have always loved to write and was very impressed by friends who are mommy bloggers. I thought to myself, "Wow, that's so much fun, I would love to do that, but no, I couldn't possibly." And then I reminded myself that I have to stop being so afraid of everything. So, with a little encouragement and help from a friend, here I am.
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