Reading "Pregnancy after a Loss" Ch. 1

No, I am not pregnant, but there is still a possibility that maybe someday.  Plus this book has a lot of good stuff to work out just in case.
The first chapter is called the search for answers.  There are so many things that went unanswered about our premature labor and birth and about the death of our baby.
I always assume that the reason I went into labor is because I was having twins.  I was measuring full term and PTL is more common with twins.  The book talks about the postpartum visit and how that can be very healing because it can answer some of the what ifs.  Her doctor actually told her "There was absolutely nothing you did to cause your baby's death".  What I would have given to hear that from my OB or from my baby's neonatologist.
Or even that there was nothing I did to cause myself to go into preterm labor.  I guess there really isn't any way to know, but it would have been comforting to hear.  Let me tell you about my post-partum visit.  Keep in mind this was before Samantha passed away but after she had been transferred to St. David's main.  I was recovering from a C/S, going between hospitals to see my babies, pumping every 3 hours for about 30 minutes at a time and somehow trying see my husband and 2 yo daughter in between.
This is a doctor whom I chose because the practice had been recommended (I couldn't get into the practice of the doctor who she actually recommended) and I had heard that he was a really great surgeon.  After all that I went through to find a doctor in College Station, when we moved to Austin I was done "doctor shopping".  It was way too stressful and I was already 26 weeks with twins and a previous C/S so I was thinking I wouldn't have a lot of options.  Well he was an older man, not really friendly or chatty but I did find out that his daughter knew a brother of mine.
And it was always quick.  I was in and out and that was fine.  All the aches and pains I complained about he said were normal.  He measured me and said I was great.  I had no complications through my first pregnancy (except for my baby being breech) and there were no red flags here.
So after the babies were born when I was in the hospital, Im not sure if he ever came to check on me.  He didn't actually deliver the babies as he was  not on call at the time.  I don't even know the name of the doctor who actually did it.  I once passed him in the hall of the hospital as I was going as fast as I could from my PP room to the NICU to see my babies.  He said "Wow, you are getting around well."  I nearly hit him.
And when I went in for my postpartum I was in a total fog of stress, trauma and sleep depravation.  As I was waiting in the exam room, a nurse came and said, "Where are they?".  What?  She was looking for my twin babies.  I explained, holding back tears, that they were in the hospital.
Then when the doctor came in I really thought it was my chance to talk.  He thought it would be the same in and out we always had.  I knew he wasn't into "people with birth plans" and "with all their lists".  (I didn't tell him that was me.)  I tried to ask him why it happened and all I could get was that they could never know.  The more questions I asked about exercise, diet, medicine, activity, the more he blew me off, as if it was silly to even ask.
Eventually he did talk about the tests that were done on the placentas, but I couldn't understand what he was saying about them.  Follow up questions got me handed a copy of the tests.  Of course I couldn't read them but at least I could look up the words later.
Then he asked me about birth control.  I told him we use NFP so we would continue to use that.  He said they love for people to have more babies.
Maybe I don't even need to say it.  I never want to see that man again.  Their office never acknowledged my trauma of PTL or acted like they cared about all the horror I was going through.  I don't even know if they know that Samantha passed away.  I don't think any of them cared.
I was already in such a haze that I could barely function, then on top of it I felt so unimportant and stupid.  I wish there had been some comfort there.
I will never again have a doctor who I am not convinced cares about me and my baby.  I spent many months following wondering, if I had a doctor who paid more attention to me, who cared about me and my babies, would he or she have noticed something that he missed?  Would someone have paid attention to all the pain I was having and maybe actually checked to see if I was dilating?
I know it doesn't matter now, except that I will not settle next time.  I want someone I feel comfortable calling in the middle of the night if I have ANY INKLING that something is wrong.  I want someone who I know will comfort me if my babies are in trouble and that will cry with me if my baby dies.
Although this book is bringing up a lot of painful memories and it is hard to thinka bout, I think it's good to write out what happened and learn from my mistakes.  Even if I can't know why I went into PTL or why Samantha contracted NEC, at least I know next time I will have a doctor who treats me with compassion.

Open the Box

Samantha's name doesn't come up very often now a days.  It's harder to find an excuse to bring her up than ever before.  It's been nice that Alexandra still brings her up- she told a lady at the library yesterday about her.  She usually calls her Mommy's baby and not her sister, but I can understand that.
I am still going to my support group in Austin.  Boy that is a place a feel so at home.  I tried many different groups and communities and this is my home.  I may have nothing else in common with the people there other than the fact that we have children that have died.  But that connects us and the environment there does just what it promises.  Healing.  Just a shoulder to cry on, open arms, a place to "be".
The last few times I went I wasn't sure why I was going.  In the past I either couldn't wait to go because I needed it so bad or I had a list of little occurrences I wanted to share because they are the only ones who would want to hear about it.  But lately, I just go.
It's as if - in my everyday life - it never happened.  No one knew her, there are no empty spaces to remind me she is missing.  I looked at Hannah's scrapbook and it didn't hurt.  I pretty much never used to look at Hannah's scrapbook, only Samantha's.  But I wanted to look at Hannah's babyhood, which she has left behind completely.  The pangs I expected never came. 
Somehow the lack of pain was nice, but a little strange.  I didn't want to think about this thing that happened.  But it wasnt a peace- it felt like a numbness.
At My Healing Place (or as Alexandra calls it "Your healing place"), as I listened to my comrades speak about thier losses and experiences, I realized I had closed the box and put it on a high shelf.  The one with the memories of Samantha and her death.  Slowly as I put more and more things on my shelf it got shoved further to the back so that I didn't have to see it every time I opened that cabinet.  Then I kind of forgot it was there.
You might think, well if it's not hurting, don't go!  Leave that box closed!  But like I said it wasn't peace, as if I had closed it and said to myself "I don't need to look in there right now" and put it in the vault.  It was more of a gradual neglect.  I do need that box still.  I need to know that I'm not crazy.  I had another daughter!  Samantha was here!  And I miss her.  Not in the same way I did, but in a new and different way that is real.
Thank you my friends at MHP for helping me reconnect with my daughter, Samantha.