Dad's Obituary

There's so much to write about from the last week.  I'll get there, I'm just still in funeral recovery mode.

Cousin Cuteness

We took a little picture to give Nana for Mother's Day.  Look at these color coordinated darlings.

I can't get enough of that sweet Kate.  Oh, she's scrumptious and such a little miracle. I'm so grateful that the eternal blessing of motherhood has happened for both Kristina and me.

Motherhood really is my dream job.  Sure, there are hard days and challenging moments.  Isn't every job like that?  But there are so many more amazing days and precious memories that I get to be a part of. I wouldn't trade this Chief Inspirational Officer role for anything.  It is so worth it in every way.

I'm learning...

I knew the question was coming.  I just didn't know when.

But earlier this week when I was talking to an acquainance there it was:

"So are you going to have more kids?"

Maybe it's because I have two boys, but it's surprising how often I get asked that question.  It's usually accompanied with the second question, "Are you going to try for a girl?"  It happens at the grocery store, the library, a random mom at the park -- and definitely in conversations with people at church.


I can't take the question too harshly, because she, like most people, has no idea what when down in April. 

That's a loaded answer though if I'm going to be honest about it.  And, my guess is that most people are expecting a simple, "yes, no, or maybe."

While any of those three answers is appropriate, none of them feel accurate or satisfying at all.

Yes: Um, my health situation is so up in the air right now that I just can't confidently say yes.  There are a lot of things to consider once I'm in the clear: my age, gearing up for the possibility of another miscarriage...the list goes on.

No: I am not quite ready to declare that we're done. It feels too final.

Maybe:  That just sounds indecisive, which the planner in me can't stand.

I'm going to have to settle with one of those, because my bet is that most people don't want the ten minute explanation that ends with something like, "Yeah, so it turns out I wasn't even pregnant with a baby." :-)

But the question itself was actually a really good reminder for me that I have no idea what kind of a load other people are carrying.  Simple questions sometimes have quite complicated answers.

The day after surgery I headed off to the store to pick up a few things.  I hadn't been there more than five minutes when a lady came around the corner and crashed into my cart.  She was apologetic, and it really wasn't a big deal.  But did it have to be a super cute pregnant lady that ran into me?  She had no idea how not thrilled I was to be seeing her, and it had nothing to do with our carts colliding.

I started looking at the people in the aisles and wondering who else was dealing with a gaping emotional hole like I was.  It instantly made me feel more love, more compassion and more empathy for every kind of sadness.  I also felt immense gratitude that I have an incredible support system, a faith that gives strength, and past experiences that have made me strong and worked together for my good. 

Not everyone is that blessed.

And speaking of a support system, my life is just filled with caring, loving people.  There have been so many big and little acts of service that have eased my load and, oh my, have I felt loved.  My mom took the boys for two days so I could heal and just be ready to be a mom again.  The morning of my surgery Lindsey showed up at my door with dinner and a hug.  She knew even more than I did that I needed both.  One of my visiting teachers brought over Magnum bars.  My sister had lasagna delivered to my door.  It fed us for three days, and there were still leftovers.  I'm pretty sure everybody needs that kind of comfort food at a time like this.  My friend Wendy was out of town, but still had the most beautiful tulips delivered to my door.  Becky sent me a 'package of sunshine,' which totally brightened up my day.  And then there have just been the sweetest texts, emails and conversations that have reminded me I'm not alone.

It's impossible to be angry, frustrated or disappointed when I'm surrounded by so much goodness.  The loved ones in my life have reminded me that the time is always right to do good.  If an idea or prompting to serve comes, I'm going to act on it.  It won't always involve taking dinner to someone or watching their kids for the afternoon.  Sometimes my own full plate won't allow for that.  Sending a text or writing a card might have to do.  But I'm going to do something.

Feeling an extra measure of love has made all the difference.

It always seems to come back to how grateful I am for right now.  Last month was one of my least favorites, and I'm not a big fan of continuing to manage my current health situation either.  But if all of that hadn't happened, I wouldn't be learning these lessons right now.  And since I'm a believer in divine purpose and direction, there must be a reason I need this instruction in this moment.  I'm learning, and even though it's hard it really is a beautiful process.

The Rest of the Story: GTD

We don't get cell phone service at the cabin.  So last Friday when we drove into Tahoe and my phone chimed with a voice mail, I naturally listened to the message.  It was my surgeon and she wanted to talk about the pathology results from my surgery.

Ugh.  That couldn't be good, right? But maybe it was routine, just a courtesy call.

I dialed the number and spoke with a nurse first.  It didn't reassure me much when she said, "Oh, there's a note here that I'm supposed to page Dr. Korinke when you call.  Hold please."

Super.

When she finally got on the phone Dr. Korinke did indeed have some surprising news.  The tissue removed showed a partial hydatidiform mole, commonly called a partial molar pregnancy.

A molar pregnancy is where the embryo either develops incompletely, or doesn’t develop at all. Instead, a cluster of grape-like cysts grows in the uterus.  In my case, part of that embryo had developed a bit, because the ultrasound showed a heartbeat at eight weeks.

The whole thing is a bit of a genetic accident that occurs at fertilization and is very rare.


I wish that was the end of the story.

For now, I have a condition called gestational trophoblastic disease (GTD).  Molar tissue can be quite stubborn and want to stick around for a while.  The hope is that when I had surgery all of that annoying tissue was removed.  If not, there are significant, but rare, risks to my health.  I'm not going to dwell on that part, but it's something to be taken very seriously.

The immediate future involves regular blood tests to make sure my hCG (pregnancy level) is dropping.  Once the level is in a normal range, it needs to be consistent and stay that way.  Continued blood tests after that time will ensure that any 'hidden' tissue doesn't become active again. Hopefully in the next six to twelve months we'll get the 'all clear' that GTD is in the past.
 
Another key component to having a successful outcome is not getting pregnant. The miscarriage alone altered our plans, but this diagnosis sure changed things.  Talk about a major shift in thinking.  We spent the last few months talking about getting pregnant and having a baby.  Now my medical issue requires being focused on making sure that we don't.

In a way it's kind of nice to not have to make any decisions about if and when to have another baby.  We've got LOTS of time to figure that out.

And there are definitely some positives: It's awesome to be feeling better again.  I love being able to give my best to my awesome, sweet boys and amazing husband. That first trimester is the worst.  I've experienced the first trimester five times, and we are definitely not friends.

I believed the doctors when they said the miscarriage wasn't my fault, but you always wonder.  Turns out this REALLY wasn't my fault.  I wasn't even pregnant with a baby (which sounds terribly weird).  There is nothing I could have done to prevent this.

I am positive, optimistic, and so blessed to have access to good medical care.  This is just my hard thing right now.  Thanks to prayer and perspective it doesn't even feel that hard.  It's simply a direction our family is going that was unexpected. 

An Unexpected 'Third'

(First a note: My primary motivation for writing a blog has changed over the years.  Originally, it was to share with others what was going on with our family.  Now, however, it is much more of a family journal; something to be preserved and written for us that happens also to be public and available to anyone who is interested.  With that in mind, I share the following, which is probably far more private than I've been before.)


The reality and weight of the situation didn't really sink in until the chief resident asked, "What number pregnancy is this for you?"

And when I answered, "Five," it hit me like a semi-truck.

I have been pregnant five times and only have two kids?

How is that even possible?

I've experienced the process of loss and grieving more than I've been able to hold my own sweet newborn?

But here I was, about two weeks ago, on the labor and delivery floor of the hospital finding out I had experienced another miscarriage.

I was familiar with my options: wait, take medication that's 80% effective, or surgery.  I knew from the past that, for me, surgery and just having it over and done with was what I needed to do.  It was scheduled for Monday morning.  I would only have a day of waiting.  Thank goodness.

It was late and we didn't want to needlessly worry our families if this was all a false alarm, so I had driven the twenty or so miles to the hospital on my own.  Along with reassuring me that this was in no way my fault, every sweet doctor and nurse wanted to know if I was o.k. to drive home.  Why not, I figured.  I got myself there with a mountain of stress, I could certainly get home with immense grief.

After arriving home I immediately went to Luke's room.  I just needed to hold my baby, even though he's hardly that anymore.  He didn't mind the rocking or tears falling from my face to his.  He slept sweetly through the whole thing. Without even knowing it, that sweet boy reminded me that life is so good, so sweet and so blessed. I would be o.k.

Nate was incredible.  He's had some practice at this whole consoling/grief/miscarriage situation.  He knew what I needed to hear. 

When I was pregnant with Noah we almost refused to get excited, not knowing if disappointment and another heart ache was right around the corner.  Looking back, I think that might be at least one reason we hardly discussed naming him and didn't talk about it seriously until after he was born.

With Luke, it felt like things could definitely go one way or the other.  A successful pregnancy was in our past, but so were two failures.  We were cautious, but excitement kept creeping in, and after about 16 weeks, we decided to just be over the moon about another baby.

When a test in early March read 'pregnant,' I was so, so happy and grateful.  The timing was exactly what we had wanted.  Everything about it just felt right.  After two successful pregnancies, I figured the tragedies of miscarriage must be behind us.  What a relief.

I did what I had never allowed myself to do much, especially this early in a pregnancy: I thought ahead and began to plan.  I couldn't help it.  I started thinking about the boys' birthdays and Thanksgiving and Christmas with a new baby.  Trying to manage joy school for Noah and a new baby was stressing me out, but I knew it would be fine.  I kept looking at Luke and thinking that this is the stage our new baby would be at in two years.

I was definitely preoccupied with the thoughts of a new baby, and I was loving it.  Without even realizing, I guess I had carved out a nice little tentative future for our soon to be family of 5.

I knew immediately our family's future was going to be far different than the one I pictured as the doctor and I looked at the ultrasound screen.  Just four days earlier at my regular appointment I had seen the flicker of a heartbeat, but this time there was nothing.

I needed a couple of days to just be sad...and disappointed...and any number of other negative emotions, I guess.  But after those days passed and the surgery was over, I was just done being sad.  I'm a firm believer that happiness is a choice and that we can be grateful in our circumstances no matter how dark or hard those circumstances are.  And, my goodness, I have so much to be grateful for.  So, I moved on and left that awful grief in the past.

Of course, if I could change this outcome I certainly would.  But, past experience has taught me that even with severe bumps in the road, the plan that my Heavenly Father has laid out is far better and more beautiful than what I could create on my own.

I choose to trust Him in every way.   

And I have great confidence that through the power of the Atonement 'I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me,' including getting through a third miscarriage.  Prayer has definitely played a powerful role in my happiness and moving forward.  I am so grateful that other people include me in their own personal prayers.  It has, without a doubt, made all the difference.  I am blessed beyond measure.

This is just a bump in the road when it comes to eternity.  All is well and life is oh, so good.

Easter Cuteness

These little boys sure looked cute on Easter. 

Nana picked out the perfect outfits for them.

Nate commented that they looked like Easter eggs, which I think was the perfect compliment for the day.

Easter was the perfect day for feeling an extra measure of gratitude for this amazing family of ours and for the daily gift of the Atonement in my life.

Easter Egg Hunt

We were so excited to hunt for eggs with loads of other cute kids at the Ruggles' home on Saturday.

Luke got the hang of it quickly with Nana's help.

He loved picking up an egg, giving it a shake and opening it right away.

Noah knew exactly what to do.

He didn't care about getting the most eggs.  Just getting a few was good enough, as long as he had some candy to snack on.

But with a little motivation, he ended up scoring a pretty big candy stash.

After the egg hunt, Nana invited us over to dye Easter eggs.

Noah made some good ones.  And Luke stayed away, which was exactly what I wanted.  :-)