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.

Remembering and Missing my Girl

We have had such a hot summer.  I live near Austin and it has just been brutal.  Yesterday we had a "cold front" and it was so refreshing.  And all I could think about was how I will never share a brisk fall morning with Samantha.  I'm grateful for my family and I still enjoyed the day but I can't help that feeling of how beautiful life is and how much I wish I could have shared more of it with her.
Now these brush fires are scaring me to death.  I'm just feeling very anxious I guess and sad.
The one September I did have with Samantha was when she and Hannah were in my belly.  Actually I didn't even know at the time that I was carrying twins! 
This is from Sept 4th 2009 when I went to my first doctor appt.  I would have been about 10 weeks and totally oblivious to how my life would change forever.  It's interesting to me that last year I constantly thought about "last year at this time".  This year (the second year after Samantha's death)  I still think about 2 years ago at this time and also think about last year at this time.  On Sept 12th it will be 18 months since Samantha passed away.  Last year when it was 6 months Alexandra and I made cupcakes and we took them to the cemetery.  I think I may do something like that again.
I went to a support group last Thurs with my counselor who got me through last year.  It was around this time last year also that Alexandra got sick and was admitted to the hospital, so the change of weather also brings back some bad memories there especially since Alexandra had a fever yesterday.  It was neat to be there, I havent gone in a while, to think how much clearer things are this year and how much I have changed.  My whole perspective on life has changed, I hope for the better.
I don't want Samantha's legacy to be a broken mommy who cannot function although I barely did for some time after she died.  But now I want to honor her by showing how much I love her sisters and her daddy and hopefully choosing to follow God's path for me so that I can get to heaven to be with her again.
Her presence or her memory or something is just more with me right now than it has been recently.

A happy memory with Samantha- when I would make the trek to St. Davids to be with her it was truly a hike.  I was recovering from a c-section usually you recover for 6 weeks or so, but I didn't have time!  I drove the at least 30 min drive (trying to time it to minimize traffic) to downtown Austin.  Walk 5-10 minutes from the parking garage to the elevator then down a long hallway to the NICU where I had to sign in then find Samantha's room.  Then I still might have to wait to see her if there was no one to help me.  After a while, I got comfortable enough to stop asking.  It was really hard to get her out of the incubator because of all the wires.  After I got the hang of it I stopped asking if I could pick up my baby- I knew she needed me.  It killed me to think of her there all day all alone.  Sometimes her very sweet Grandma Susie would go and be with her.  We tried to make sure she was visited at least twice a day.  Many times Daddy came by after work.
Holding her was amazing.  It was quiet in the NICU, just the low voices of nurses and the occasional beeping of an monitor.  All I had to do at that moment was love on my girl.  I watched her make faces, I felt her squirm.  Many times I was there at her feeding time so there were times I tried to nurse her, she actually latched on pretty well but she didn't suck very well so I don't think she got much milk.  She sure was working hard though!  She loved to snuggle during Kangaroo Care.  This is the skin to skin contact they encourage with mommy to help with milk production- I was pumping for two at the time- I joined the 1,000ml club (that's for 1 day!!) and also it helps baby to recover faster.  Finally she was where she belonged.  When we did kangaroo care there was a sense of peace that I rarely experienced that that time.  I sat there with my eyes on the clock, calculating.  If I stay for just 5 more minutes I could still beat the traffic and make it to Round Rock Medical Center in time to feed Hannah then make it home for bedtime with Alexandra.  Then after 5 minutes- wait I still have to pump(which took at least 30 minutes) before I leave if I wait any longer I will catch traffic and miss Hannah's feeding time!  I could just go at the next feeding time 3 hours later after bedtime- but I need to rest so I can get up at 6 to be at the hospital again at 8 and I will be up every 3 hours pumping so really I should go.  All the while I'm snuggling my girl and squeezing each moment for love of her.  That damn clock.  I hate it!  Why is it time goes so slowly when I am waiting to hold her then it speeds past when I am holding her.  I took these with my phone.

Finally I say to myself "one, two, three" and I stand up.  One, two, three I open her incubator, one two three I start to set her down. I kiss her and kiss her and kiss her little head and tell her "I will be back as soon as I can.  I love you so much and I miss you.  You are doing great little girl just keep on healing and resting.  Soon you will be with your family."
Then the reverse trek and to Round Rock Medical Center to start all over again with Hannah.  Boy that was an exhausting time.  It's easy to not notice the pain from a c-section when your heart is breaking!  Leaving my angels at the hospital was like torture every time.  I cried and cried in the hallway of that NICU.  Cried down the elevator.  Cried walking to the parking garage.  And really cried in the car.  Then I tried to switch gears and remember that Hannah needed me too.  But she never needed me in the same way.  Samantha was recovering from surgery and was so far away.  Little Hannah was just trucking along through every milestone.
I wish I had a journal from that time so I could remember more vividly what I did each day- how many times I saw Samantha for how long.  I would like to get a copy of her medical records- since this does detail the moments of her life.  I'm glad I have the family blog to remember some of what happened.  I'm glad I have my sweet memories of Samantha even if they are all hard to remember.

The Inevitable Question

We made some new friends today.  Sometimes I actually avoid meeting new people just because I know they will ask.  "How many children do you have?"  And it feels so terrible to answer two.  I know I'm not really betraying Samantha, but tell that to my stomach.  We talk about where we are from and I talk about how I was pregnant when we moved... pregnant with Hannah.  Since I'm not sure I want to get into it.  But I do want to acknowledge her.  So I just think about her and wish she was here.
I was working on a page in my scrapbook and I noticed once more my missing 16 days.  The last pictures we took of Samantha were from February 24.  I think actually we have one from March 5 but you can't see her face very well.  There were 2 weeks where she was gaining weight, nursing, taking all her food by mouth, and failing sleep tests.  Her little cheeks were filing out and her personality was emerging.  She was so alert that the nurses put a little black and white design in her crib so that she would have something to entertain her.  They moved her out of the room where she and Hannah had been by themselves, out to the spot where she had been when they first were born.  Or it may have been the spot Hannah was in right next to her.  I remember sitting with her resting on my forearms on on my lap. Her sparkling eyes were looking up at me.  We were just making faces at each other.  Just "talking".  A nurse came by and asked if we were playing googly eyes.  We were.  All this time we got to know each other, we were expecting her home any day.  I never brought a camera to the hospital except on my phone and used it very rarely.  It didnt seem like a time I would want to remember.  If I could just get her home then life could begin.  Hannah came home 2-28-10.  I really thought she would be home by March 6 the next friday.  They kept telling me that her lips turned blue when she ate and she was having trouble breathing when she ate.  I never had that problem so it was hard to be concerned or even understand why that would keep her from coming home.  When Hannah came home it was as if one day they said she was ready and the next day they were discharging her.  Naturally I was expecting a similar experience with Samantha.  Well, that's one twin lesson I did learn.  They are completely separate individuals.  So Samantha's homecoming was delayed three times.  After she passed away someone told me- thank God they didnt send her home with me. Many times I wished they had, so at least she could have come home, and Alexandra could have met her.  We could have all been together even if just for a short time.  But in my heart I don't believe she would have died.  I would never have given her rice cereal in her bottle.  I never needed to. And anyway, she would have been with her mama.  It's so hard not to believe that if her mommy had been holding her she wouldnt have gotten sick.

But I realize this is a futile and negative line of thinking.  This is the last picture I have of her.  March 5she was 4 weeks and 5 days old.  She was still only 36 weeks adjusted and it's one week before she died.  All I really mean to say is that I wish I had pictures of those 16 days.  So I try to take as many pictures as I can of my Hannah Banana.  And whenever someone asks me the inevitable question, I answer as honestly as my heart can and tell Samantha I will never forget her.