38 Weeks and Sunflower's Arrival

The first and most exciting news is that Sarah and David welcomed Ezra's little brother, Micah Amir, early this morning. Knowing another rainbow baby has made it safely into the world is a wonderful feeling and my heart is simply leaping for Micah's mama and daddy.

My 38 week OB appointment today was entirely uneventful. No change at all from last week and Dr. M. said she'd be surprised if Buggy comes before his scheduled c-section date. Apparently all that bedrest really scared my cervix into behaving and while 80% effaced, it's still very posterior and not dilated one little, teensy bit.

Any hint of disappointment that things aren't progressing quickly faded as I realized that this scenario is truly amazing. A chunky and full-term Buggy is all we ever hoped for and it seems it's what we might get. Now to think of ways to fill the next 12 days...

Almost 37 Weeks

No big changes to report. According to Dr. A.'s exam today I am now 80% effaced but not dilated yet. It makes it clear that bedrest for the last three months was necessary, as going from 50% to 80% in a matter of 5 days is a decent change in the length of my cervix.

So we're waiting, walking, bouncing on a birth ball, drinking tea, eating spicy food and pineapple, telling Buggy he can come whenever he wants, but also understanding that when the time is right, it's right, and there's not too much we can do to change that. The silver lining of it all, besides having gotten this far, is that even if we end up with our scheduled c-section on January 12, it will be performed by my amazing OB Dr. M. and by Dr. A. As much as I'd like Buggy to come sooner than that, there's also something pretty special about these two incredible doctors helping Buggy be born.

Thank you all so much for your support and for checking in. It means the world to us!

Quick 36 week update

50% effaced and soft, -2 station, not dilated. Any and all tips on how to get things going would be much appreciated, Scott wants the 2009 deduction;)

A 36 Week Gift

What's a million times better than being let off bedrest today? Ocea Marie Dudley's safe arrival into her mom, Carly, and Dad, Sam's, arms. Welcome to the world beautiful baby. We are so happy you are here!

A Ray of Sun, Bronx Style

Despite being a dreary, rainy, and cold San Francisco day, my heart was just warmed considerably.

Right after college, I taught for two years in the South Bronx. My first year, I had an incredible student named Mervin who was bright, polite, and everything you could want as a first year teacher. He left after second grade for a gifted school that I worked with his parents to get him into, and I've often wondered about how he's fared.

The other day, I decided to google Mervin's name, to see if anything would come of it, and I found a facebook page that I was pretty sure was his. I sent him a message, telling him that I'd thought of him often over the past 9 years and that I hoped he was doing well. Today he wrote me back. Turns out the facebook page is his dad's, but Mervin Jr. responded to my message. To know that he is alive and well, not a given when you grow up where lives, made my day!

(Mervin is the little guy on the left, sitting on his knees, half cut-off.)

Steaming Mad

(Warning: long rant below)

I used to love getting mail. Ask Scott, he'll tell you that since I've been on bedrest, one of the highlights of my day is when he walks in...with the mail. Junk, catalogues, dentist reminder cards, I love it all. After Cayden died, and so many amazing friends and family made donations to the hospital in his memory, we received acknowledgement cards from CPMC, cards that both reinforced the fact that our baby was gone while simultaneously warming our hearts with the knowledge that he touched so many during his short life.

But really, over the past two weeks, I've started to dread getting the mail. Why? I'm trying to be calm and zen as this pregnancy winds down, but that is very difficult to do on days when we receive bills for care that I received on January 14, January 16, and for various tests that Cayden received. Today marked the sixth bill received in two weeks. Among many questions I have, why the hell are we receiving this bills almost a full year later?!

Two weeks ago, we received a $999 bill for "services" rendered January 14, 2009. Interesting to call the crap medical care I received "services" since it was more of a disservice. To quickly recap: I went to L&D that night and it was discovered that I was contracting every 5 minutes. Cayden's heartrate was completely unreactive, which no one picked up on. The midwife did an internal exam and then realized she couldn't do a fetal fibronectin after an internal exam, as the results would be tainted. So she sent me home and told me to return for a fetal fibronectin on Friday morning, January 16, which would become Cayden's birthday. I'm still shocked to think that she sent me home at 31 weeks 6 days contracting every 5 minutes without any discussion of steroid shots for baby's lungs, or of medication to stop the preterm labor. I know that Cayden had a lethal condition, and good care wouldn't have changed anything, but what about a woman carrying a healthy baby? A healthy yet unreactive and distressed baby whose mother was in preterm labor? I shudder to think of that outcome.

Insurance says they paid the contractually allowed amount and that the hospital should not come to me to recoup the difference. Hospital tells me to disregard the bill. One week later, I receive another bill from the hospital for the $999 plus the insurance company's share. Hospital says insurance requested a refund. Insurance company says they didn't. And scene.

Luckily, my dad has taken over this battle, as it's simply too much for me to handle at this point.

Then last week we get a bill for $2, 435 for an MRI for "Boy Pai Baby Hirsch" on January 23. On said bill it states, "Your insurance has denied payment. The cannot identify you as a member. Pleas remit payment in full. Thank you." The typos are intentional, that's what it says. For whatever reason, they didn't use Cayden's name. Insurance says they have no record of receiving any claim. Imaging center says they sent it but will resend. Then yesterday I got another bill from the same center for $930 for additional tests. I'm about to send it back with a note to BILL MY FREAKING INSURANCE COMPANY!

As an aside, I sent a request for my medical records to St. Luke's last week, as furiously pondering the horrendous care I received made me wonder what my records reflect. I requested ANY and ALL records. St. Luke's just called and this was the conversation:

Woman: Um, we receieved your request. Did you sign a release?

Me: Well, wouldn't it be in my file if I did? I mean, we're talking a year and half ago, I don't really remember.

Woman: What do you want?

Me: In terms of...?

Woman: Your records.

Me: So I take it you found a release form? Like I specified in the letter, I'd like all of my records.

Woman: Okay, bye.

Talk about rubbing salt in gaping wounds, there's just something so unfair about having to make calls, explain your story, just dealing with this reality in the aftermath of losing a child. I'm thinking of supergluing shut our mailbox. Surely that would help, wouldn't it?

34 weeks...still on the couch

Today was our big, important 34 week ultrasound. The one that would determine whether or not I'd be released from bedrest. Though Buggy looks great, weighing in at 5 pounds 3 ounces, my cervix is still pretty short and Dr. A. wants two more weeks of bedrest. Buggy is at minus 2 station and is already engaged, so the risks of going into labor in the next two weeks aren't worth it. Though I had grand visions of taking Scout for walks, gaining back some strength, and finally enjoying a bit more freedom, two more weeks on the couch is a small price to pay for a big, healthy baby.

In 2 weeks, at 36 weeks, Dr. A. actually hopes I will go into labor and that Buggy will be able to come early as a VBAC. Though there is a risk of uterine rupture, it would be much better for Buggy's lungs if he were to squeeze his way out through the birth canal, rather than popping out through my belly, and will also decrease the future risk of placenta accreta. Part of this decision means that I will not get an epidural until very late, if at all. This is because the primary symptom of uterine rupture is a sharp, searing pain and having any pain relief would render me unable to feel the potential pain. So in Dr. A.'s words, "We might be a little mean to you." Since I had planned on an unmedicated hypnobirth with Cayden, this isn't outside of the realm of possibilities I'd considered, and I'm fine with the decision.

Dr. A. said today that even if she were a millionaire, she'd still do what she does because of patients like us, and that she can't wait to see and hold this baby, that she feels like he's partially hers. How can I possibly complain about anything when we are being cared for so lovingly by such amazing doctors? We are very lucky, in so many ways.

Voices

This post has been percolating in my head over the past week or so, but I haven't had the energy to try and extract it from my mind and put into this space. I do apologize, though, if my silence caused any worry. I'm fine, in most senses of the word.

I've been thinking a lot about voices lately. A few weeks ago I was lucky enough to be able to tune into a radio show featuring my dear friend Carly, and just this past week I was able to voice chat/video chat with Sally and Sarah. Hearing the voices of these mamas who are in such similarly scary situations as I find myself right now was soothing and reassuring in a way I couldn't have imagined. This blog world is amazing, it has been an absolute lifeline for me. But hearing the voices of friends around the world, that was pretty magical.

Loss is hard. Pregnancy is supposed to be carefree and blissful. Pregnancy after loss is, well, I can't really find the words. I am so grateful to be here. I wish all babyloss mamas who want to be, could be easily pregnant again. But it is draining. As I approach the end of this pregnancy, I'm battling several voices in my head on a daily, if not hourly, basis.

There is the voice that constantly warns me to keep my expectations low. It tells me that babies die, even seemingly healthy babies, and that I shouldn't expect to actually take a baby home this time. It tells me I'm foolish for ordering a carseat and buying Mrs. Meyer's baby laundry detergent.

There is also the voice that tells me to wash the onesies and swaddling blankets, choose a pediatrician, and be somewhat prepared for Buggy's arrival. It tells me that Buggy could come tomorrow and will most likely be healthy and will need the basics.

Think of these voices like little people perched on either shoulder, battling each other for my attention. I try to ignore voice one and focus more on voice two, but most of the time I simply plug my ears and yell, "la la la la" until something distracts me completely.

Tomorrow I will be 31 weeks 6 days, the exact gestational age when Cayden was born. Beyond that lay unchartered waters. I've never been 32, 33, 34 weeks pregnant. I have no idea what to expect. We don't know how this pregnancy will end and the assumption that it will end well bothers me. Of course it's what we hope for, but it's not a given. So I think I'll keep my ears plugged, burrow under the covers, and hope that the next few weeks fly by quickly and quietly.

A Busy Day

Today we shuttled from one floor of the hospital to another for our weekly non-stress test, a fetal fibronectin test and appointment with our MFM Dr. A., and an ultrasound. Buggy was very cooperative and nicely reactive during the NST, though rather sleepy during the ultrasound. He's a big boy, with a big head, weighing in at approximately 3 pounds 10 ounces, bigger than Cayden was when he was born at 32 weeks! My cervix looked the best it has in a while, enough so that the perinatologist we saw would be comfortable with slightly increased activity. But we're still waiting on the fetal fibronectin results and Dr. A.'s orders regarding the activity-she's the boss and we'll do whatever she says. And now I'm completely exhausted. The nurse we saw today said that a person on bedrest loses 3% of their muscle mass for each day of bedrest. So, with almost 2 months on bedrest, I'm feeling it!

Nine months gone

You are missed, baby boy.