It has been a crazy 3-4 months in my life with some exciting high points and sadly, many downright low points. But I am pulling through it all.
First off, we are expecting baby #3. EDD: 4/6/12. (Which, if you have read my story, you’ll know means I will probably deliver sometime in the middle of April.)
Obviously that is some of the exciting news. But it’s been a roller coaster of emotion from the start. I knew I was pregnant immediately at 4 weeks, took a test and saw a very dark line. I started feeling hungry and sick and I suspected we had again conceived twins because this was much the same as how I felt when I was pregnant with twins in my first pregnancy. To our surprise, we found out at 5 weeks 4 days along, via ultrasound, that we conceived spontaneous triplets – 2 eggs were released and fertilized, 1 of the eggs split. We had 2 identicals in one sac and 1 fraternal in the other. We were beyond excited! I felt like the excitement and dream of having multiples that was robbed from me in my first pregnancy was finally coming true. We proceeded with caution as we reminded ourselves about what happened with our previous twin pregnancy, but I refused to waste my days away with worry. I chose to be excited about the 3 babies that were growing inside of me. We went in at 8 weeks for another ultrasound and saw 3 babies with 3 heartbeats:
The morning sickness and fatigue that goes along with triplets was intense. I spent my days on the couch, in between caring for my 1 & 3 year old, as well as my 4 month old, 2 year old and 3 year old daycare kids. All the while feeling like I was unable to do anything or think about anything other than feeling sick and tired 24/7. I tried an array of “remedies”: ginger everything, sea bands, lemon, lemon drops, and I was prescribed Zofran, a medication to ease morning sickness. Although even at the highest dose, it only took the edge off. I started showing and had to get out my maternity clothes at 9 1/2 weeks. I already had to switch to side sleeping, due to the weight that my uterus placed on my lower back. I had spoken with and met with numerous doctors and nurses and had an array of lab work done, which all came back normal. Yet I still couldn’t completely shake the worry.
I was referred to a high risk OB called a perinatologist. I went to my first appointment at 10 weeks to find that we had lost Baby B & Baby C. At first, I didn’t cry. I suppose I had somewhat mentally prepared myself for losing 1 of the babies. But immediately, the bitterness and resentment set in. My first thought, and the first thing out of my mouth to my husband when the doctor left the room, was: “It’s not fair”. It’s NOT fair. Why should anyone have to go through this strange, confusing grief process ONCE? Let alone TWICE! The excitement and dream of having multiples was ripped out from under me yet again. But we still had to be happy about Baby A – our healthy baby still growing in my belly. I did cry after a few minutes. My husband cried, too. It was an all together too familiar feeling. We knew how to console one another from experience, which is good, but so very sad at the same time.
Throughout the next week, I had my ups and downs. We hadn’t told many people, other than family and my clients, but then the chore came of letting them all know the bad news. The normal response from people is “Oh, I am so sorry”, which I appreciate and understand. But a person can only take so many “I’m sorrys”. With each “I’m sorry”, the strange, confusing grief came rushing back to the surface. It is all very taxing on a person, physically and emotionally. But the hardest part to deal with for me, was when I overheard my 3 year old son, sitting on the couch by himself, in a very sad voice, say to his toy: “We lost Baby B and Baby C. They are dead. I wish Baby B and Baby C would come back.” Through the tears, all I could muster to say to him was: “I know buddy, I wish they would come back, too.”
The glimmer of hope and happiness through all of this:
One healthy, growing baby measuring ahead and wiggling it’s little arms and legs around during the ultrasound. The miracle of life will never cease to amaze me. Through all of the very, very difficult moments in this pregnancy…feeling sad and sorry for myself, sick and tired, worried and depressed….it has all been worth it for one reason: we created another life.
So here I am at 12 weeks, already with belly, and my first doctor appt with my regular OB that I saw through my first 2 pregnancies. I am scared to go to this appt for a few reasons: #1: fear for that miniscule time frame of about 30 – 60 seconds between the doctor squirting the gel on my belly and her finding the heartbeat with the doppler (you know exactly what I’m talking about if you’ve ever been pregnant); #2: the scale; and #3 the array of “I’m sorrys” that I am bound to get starting with the receptionists when I walk in, to the nurse when I go back to pee in a cup, to the nurse that will weigh me and take my blood pressure, to the doctor once she finally comes into the room.
#1 scares me, even though I have had no signs of any problems and my belly is still growing – but I am not naive. I also had no signs of problems and my belly was growing when I discovered that we lost the other babies. So the only resolve for this fear is to get myself through to that point where we hear that heartbeat beating away on the doppler. I know I can make it to that point – but please oh please oh please….let me hear that thumping.
#2 scared me because, as many of you know from visiting this site, my weight is always a struggle for me….especially so in pregnancy. I went on a downward spiral in my first pregnancy after losing one of the twins and went on to gain 110 lbs. I was careful with my calories and exercised up until 20 weeks with my second pregnancy and gained 55 lbs. I always said that in my third pregnancy, I would cut that # in half again and gain no more than 25 – 30 lbs. Little did I know the wrenches that would be thrown into that equation. I began my pregnancy eating anything I could that sounded even somewhat appealing to me because of the strong food aversions and morning sickness. So if Toaster Strudel’s sounded good, I ate them. I was eating a lot, as I was told that I needed to eat, eat, eat to nourish the 3 growing babies. So in the first 10 weeks, I gained 12 lbs, which was right in line with the expected weight gain for triplets. Once I lost the babies, I began feeling depressed because I had gained all that weight right away, yet now only had 1 growing baby inside of me. Not to mention the fact that the extent of my physical activity over the last 2 1/2 months was going up the stairs 2 or 3 times a day. I am on a bad path right now with my weight gain. At 12 weeks into my second pregnancy, I had only gained 1-2 lbs. This is the fork in my road. I can continue to emotionally eat and give in to every craving and temptation that I have. Or, I can watch what I eat and try to exercise once again to nip this excess weight gain in the bud. I’m chosing the later option. While I am dreading the shame I will surely feel walking into the gym after a 3 months absence and 15ish lb weight gain (see gallery), I need to suck it up and do it for my own well being.
As for #3, well, in the words of Gloria Gaynor….”I will survive”. After all, as hard as the “I’m sorry’s” are for me to deal with emotionally, they are meant well by the people giving them. And with time, the wounds will heal and it won’t be as hard to handle the emotions that go along with them.
I am a fighter. I am a survivor. I am not a religious person, so I won’t refer to God or Buddha or The Almighty Powers That Be or The Sith Lord. But I do believe in something. And that something tells me that there are those of us that can handle anything, and there are those of us that can’t. It’s better that I, someone that can handle anything, is dealt this hand, rather than someone else who can’t.
