Late Term and Child Loss
forevermyfenix
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One Month.
forevermyfenix
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It's a hard day today. One month from the day Fenix left my womb.
I can't stop thinking about the silence.
The silence of the house today, even with an Amazon and an Eclectus parrot. They've been quiet since Donnie (my green cheek conure who I raised from a chick) died. (For those that don't know, Donnie escaped our screened in porch days after I got home from the hospital. 3 hawks chased him and killed him in front of me). Savannah and Donnie used to cuddle and preen each other throughout the day. Savannah spoke for a few days after, but now she's stopped talking and mostly seems depressed. She was holding on to when he'd come back, but I guess now she knows he's gone. Dante is even silent, except for the few worried sighs he's been making because DH isn't giving him his usual kisses.
The silence of that hospital room. I was in labor for 23 hours but aside from the beeping machines that were giving me IV fluids and checking my blood pressure and the occasional check in by the nurse, it was mostly silent. They thankfully put me in a room away from everyone else so I wouldn't hear other people's baby cries, but it was so silent. DH was silent in his worry, trying to be the strong one. I was silent in my drugged up grieving state. And no visitors. I couldn't do visitors. Even if I had, they'd have just sat there silent as well. There wasn't anything to say. There was no cheerful labor and delivery nurse encouraging "soon you'll have your baby." There was no hurridly rushing around. It was like a hospital bed of a terminal patient. The occasional check to see if I was comfortable. I was allowed to be drugged up, no restrictions on which medications because if they got into Fenix it didn't matter anyways. There was no "ok you've been in labor too long, we need to get the baby out NOW" that I had been scared of before. When the doctor determined he was low enough and I was ready to push, there was no excited "Let's have this baby! You can do it!!"
It was a solemn "ok, it's time. almost over."
And when he was born, there were no cries. No nurses hurriedly running around. No "he's not breathing, we gotta get him help NOW." No CPR, no suctions to take fluid out of his airways. They just laid his body on the warming table, sutured my episiotomy, and fingered around in the bowl they put the placenta and cord looking for a reason. Not to say the nurses and doctors weren't caring - they were. My doctor wasn't even the one on call but he was there.
But the silence.
DH , is depressed. Suicidal, yet knows he can't act on it. This isn't something we haven't had to deal with before. Loving a person with bipolar 2 means the shock factor of suicidal ideation isn't what it used to be. But that doesn't mean it hurts any less. Before, during the pregnancy, DH would make pancakes for us for breakfast some mornings and we had a little thing where we'd dance silly and sing "daddy's makin' paaaaancaaaakes." Yesterday he made pancakes and it was silent. He had tears in his eyes. I asked him what he was thinking and he almost whispered "Daddy's not making pancakes."
He has a therapist, which he's seen since this happened. They didn't want to mess with his existing meds because grief is not a mental illness. But at what point does normal grieving cross over into the danger zone. DH said he'd admit himself if he thought they'd even do anything. Unfortunately this is a road we've taken before, and essentially it becomes more like just putting an intoxicated person in a jail cell until he sobers up. There is no cure for this. DH went to bed for the day at 2pm. My insomnia will likely keep me up to 5am just like it did yesterday. So now, the house is silent.
There is no end to this either. There is no rewriting the pages of "my firstborn son died." Just as there was nothing they could do to try to save him in the hospital, there's nothing we can do to even attempt to bring him back. And it hurts. And I can't stop DH from hurting. I don't know how to help him.
BFP #1 12/19/13 We lost our Fenix 7/31/14 at 36 weeks due to torn umbilical cord
~*ALL AL WELCOME*~
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Re: One Month.
I have an ex who had bipolar and has been suicidal at various points. The suicidal depression is so excruciatingly hard by itself. For you to also be dealing with the loss of your Fenix is a whole new level of awful.
I don't have anything smart or particularly helpful to say. I just want to say that I hear you and I'm thinking of you and your family and that I hope tomorrow is a little better.
Sending hugs.
We're queer. I'm 33, have severe stage 4 endo, and had both fallopian tubes removed. My love ("Manada" on the boards, 32) was diagnosed with diminished ovarian reserve. We did Partner IVF (my eggs, her uterus). We lost our twins Tavin and Casey at 21 weeks gestation.
Our IUIs
with @Manada: IUI# 1-7 (December 2012- September 2013) all BFN. Tried natural, femara, clomid, puregon/follistim, clomid and menopur combo, both the ovidrel and HCG triggers.
Our IVFs:
IVF #1 my eggs November/December 2013: Cancelled IVF due to poor response
IVF #2 my eggs/Manada's uterus January/February 2014
BCPs and lupron overlap Stimmed: 1/22-2/2: Bravelle and Menopur (dosage ranged from B300 and M150 to B375 and M150 to B300 and M225)
2/4 retrieved 10 eggs. Endo was much worse than expected. Only 3 eggs fertilized; February 7 transferred two day 3 embryos, froze one. All great condition.
BFP eve of 6dp3dt; Beta 1 (11dp3dt): 110; Beta 2 (13dp3dt): 175; Beta 3 (15dp3dt): 348; Beta 4 (19dp3dt): 2222; Beta 5 (21dp3dt): 4255
1st ultrasound (3/6 6w 1d): TWINS!!!! Twin A measuring 6w1d with a heartbeat of 118bpm. Twin B measuring 6w0d with a heartbeat of 113bpm.
***July 18, 2014 we lost our beautiful babies at 21 weeks gestation. They were born too early. Tavin Sara T. and Casey Elizabeth T. are beautiful and precious and we will love them and miss them forever.***
FET #1 December 2014
I am so sorry sweetie. I found the hardest time was 3-8 weeks, and after that it starts to lesson. It is a long road, and we are hear for you. I am so sorry about your vird as well. If my pet got hurt or died it would be very, very difficult. More so since losing Ana.
*** edited word mix up
My Blog
BFP# 1 7/7/12 Beautiful DD born still at 36 weeks 5 days on 3/2/13
Diagnosed with PCOS in 2005. Started Metformin July 2013
Please be our rainbow!!
**All AL Welcome**
Asher born February 5, 2011.
Baby #2 born sleeping at 20 weeks. May 6, 2014.
I'm so sorry. The milestones of time passing are so difficult. It's like a cruel reminder of all the time you're missing with your baby. Just keep doing the best you can, that's all you can do.
October 2011 - DS (7)
July 2014 - Stillborn DD (24 weeks)
August 2015 - DD (3)
April 2018 - 5 week loss
Brooke Elizabeth born Feb 17, 2013 grew wings May 9, 2013 @ 11 weeks & 4 days old from SIDS
Reading your words reminded me of the awfully quiet labor/delivery room I was in, too. My doctor and nurses were amazing, but what do you say when you're delivering a baby that is no longer living? I mean, I had the TV on, and I did have some visitors in and out...but mostly, I wanted them to drug me up until it was all over so that I wouldn't spend the 27 hours I was in labor crying my eyes out.
The first 2-3 months were the hardest for me. I am so, so sorry that this is your reality. Thinking of you today. *hugs*
Philippians 4:6-7 MSG
Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life.