Here’s a really good example of how the questions asked on a survey may really skew the results. I’m doing this is your brain more female or male brain? quiz online just for fun.

One question gives you a word and asks you to type in words that mean the same thing. I could think of only 3 words for the one they gave me. This is what that result says about me, according to their research: “You are more of the strong, silent type with a male brain. You probably find it easier to express yourself in non-verbal ways, preferring action rather than words.” If you’re reading this in my blog you’re probably well aware that I write very well, have an extensive vocabulary, and prefer to express myself thorugh writing.

So what word was it they gave me that stopped me up so much? Happy. Hmmmm. I’m thinking that perhaps my state of mind may have colored the result on that one.

Another interesting result on a different question, where they have you pick which of two exceedingly similar pictures is more attractive to you: “Your choices suggest you prefer more masculine faces. … Interestingly, women’s preferences are said to vary across the menstrual phase. A more masculine face is preferred during the 9 days prior to ovulation, when conception is most likely.” Coincidence? Or good timing? Only time shall tell.

After Devin was born I still managed to find some comfort in the same online forums. I was okay with posting in some of the same groups, reading along. I had a birth experience, I had something to contribute too. Friends were having babies and I happily looked forward to reading about their birth experiences. For a while I fit in just fine and I thought to myself that it was nice, that I could still stay involved. Devin was included in birth stats and birth stories. There was comfort in that. I mistakenly took this as a sign of how things would continue.

But they moved on. Discussions moved from birth stories to feeding troubles and gas. Photos stopped being pregnancy photos and started being baby growth photos. I no longer have anything to contribute.

I stay in this one pregnancy forum, because I’m okay being there, reading along, throwing in my comment now and then. But the women in the forum, their pregnancies progress and I’m faced with the knowledge that they, too, will give birth. The next wave of pregnancies will come through.

They all move on. I stand still.

I am frozen at that moment at the end of pregnancy. I want to hold onto that. That third trimester, when you’re looking big, movements are obvious, and labor and delivery is just around the corner. A part of me feels like I need to let go of what was. But a part of me wants to hang on to those good memories. I like reliving those memories, it was my time with Devin.

Today I was at work, chatting, when someone remarked that tomorrow is May. May. The month my SIL will have her baby. I froze for a moment. I decided I do not like May. As hard as it will be to see the new baby, I think waiting for her to show up is going to be worse. Anticipation. Waiting for the inevitable. What should be an eager, exciting time now just makes me flinch. At least once it’s done, it’s done. Once the baby’s here it’s a whole new set of problems, but at least we can move forward from there, get used to the new situation. I’ll be able to face it – see the baby, hold the baby, deal with it. Not just sitting and waiting. Dreading.

Tomorrow, to celebrate the 8 week mark, we have an appointment with Dr. M, the doctor who called and gave me the pathology results. Tomorrow we get to sit down with him and get more info, ask any questions. We don’t know how much more info we’re going to get, since we already have the basic answer, but I really wanted this chance to sit down with him, especially now that I’ve had time to process what he told us and am not super emotional about it – my brain kind of shut off during his phone call.

8 weeks. I don’t like to think about what I should be doing right now… but I know it wouldn’t be going to see the doctor to talk about why my son died.

So today we had a nice sit-down with Dr. M. I didn’t know what building his office was in, but considering he does maternal fetal medicine I figured it would be somewhere close to the maternity building. When we got there I asked where I might find the office and they directed me to the back… to the same waiting room as my midwives. I checked at the door and sure enough it also lists maternal fetal medicine. Shortly I was called back by the same nurse as I always do, and she took my blood pressure and weight. I almost asked, “Ummm, you know I’m here to have a consultation with Dr. M? Right?” but I didn’t. We were seated in the conference room… the same room I had sat in that day 8 weeks ago, waiting for Den to arrive. “I remember this room,” he said to me as he looked around. Oh yes, we remembered.

Dr. M. gave us copies of the reports, which I was very appreciative of… I like having copies of everything for my records – little quirk I aquired while going through infertility. I’ll write down the important parts (which may be quite technical), then I’ll write about what Dr. M. said and the future outlook.

Comment [from Pathologist]:

Basically there are two major things to take from this all, and one minor thing of interest, if you could call it that.

The first, the major, is like I wrote before: what killed Devin was that the inner sac (amnion) was ruptured, creating amniotic bands, one of which wrapped very tightly around his umbilical cord. Dr. M. said that all the other test results and findings are pretty much incidental. There is no known cause for amnion rupture, other than cutting or piercing the amniotic sac (such as an amniocentisis, which we did not have). Sometimes it just happens. He said that there are roughly 10,000 births per year in the valley, around half of which are seen by this hospital. Almost all high-risk cases go through this hospital. So he pretty much sees everything. He sees amniotic bands maybe once a year. I asked him how often do the amniotic bands kill the baby – he said very very rarely. Usually it causes deformations or sometimes it doesn’t do anything. But once in a while you get what happened to Devin.

The second major thing is that the placenta was quite small. Now that doesn’t have anything to do with the amniotic bands and it didn’t lend a hand in his death; however, had he lived, that small placenta could have caused problems down the road. He said the baby’s size was normal, so despite the small placenta he was compensating and still growing appropriately. But as you get to term and overdue the small placenta might have started to cause more of an issue. So this, then, is something to be watchful of in my next pregnancy – it is something that they will monitor.

The third item was the blood results that came back. I don’t have a copy of them, but he went over them with us. Basically everything was negative, except for some common Herpes strain that has no effect on a baby (it just means that I’ve contracted it at some point in my life). The noteworthy part, to me, was that I do not have any immunity to CMV. What’s CMV you might ask? CMV is the virus that my best friend got during her pregnancy, which has caused major issues for her son (premature birth, 7 weeks in the NICU, and possible long-term mental disabilities that as of yet is completely unknown). Dr. M. said it’s something I’ll need to be aware of in future pregnancies, practice good hand-washing, but that I “can’t live in a bubble.” (I replied that it’s tempting to try to!)

Toxoplasmosis was negative, I’ll add, which is a relief because I do work with cats, and while I did take every precaution to avoid contracting toxo while pregnant (avoiding all literboxes at work and home) I still worried that somehow I had done something wrong. Negative for clotting disorders, there was no clotting problems in the placenta or baby. That’s good. My thyroid panel was normal.

We talked to him a little about IVF, Den explained how we used our insurance and the federal government loophole from the mandate, etc. He’s just appalled that we don’t have more coverage. He asked about our diagnosis, what treatments we tried, stuff like that. He’s also going to send a copy of the death report to the RE for us, so at least they’ll have that.

Then he talked with us for a while about what is required/recommended/offered during a subsequent pregnancy when we do get there. First of all, because of the placenta issue he recommends following the baby’s growth (and measuring the placenta or something) via ultrasound throughout the pregnancy (“serial growth ultrasounds”). Then, what they usually do in the case of pregnancy after a stillbirth is frequent U/S and NSTs around the time that the previous baby died, so for me it would be around 32-36 weeks. This is more for our sake than for a medical need to check on the baby, since in our case what happened was a total freak accident and really not very detectable during ultrasound anyways – I asked. He said sometimes these bands can be seen on ultrasound, but usually they are seen when no one is looking for them… and most of the time these bands go undetected until birth unless they cause some sort of major defect in the baby that can be seen by ultrasound. I mentioned renting a doppler, and he said we’re welcome to come in as often as we want to to listen to the baby’s heartbeat, even if it’s once a week or more frequently.

He also said that when a baby is known to be healthy and you’ve gotten past the point where you lost the previous child and the baby is full term the couple usually wants the baby out; that waiting around past due greatly increases anxiety level. He said in this case they would induce once the baby is term (around 39 weeks or further), if you want to be induced. He said it’s certainly not recommended, induction comes with risks of its own, but a lot of people opt to do that. That is something we’ll have to take as it comes. I am by far not a fan of induction for no medical reason. But bringing home a live baby… instead of waiting around for the worst to happen… well, I don’t know. We’ll see. I also mentioned my induction and how quickly it went, how easy it was – he said that my body was probably pretty primed and ready to go into labor on its own anyways. That’s what I was figuring, really… I felt that morning that something was starting, some cramping/contractions. Even though I wasn’t dialated when I was admitted, I’m willing to bet that my body was right on the edge and that’s why it responded so well to the induction. If I were induced before my body was ready the results might not be quite so favorable.

So there it all is. We have a pretty good plan in place for my next pregnancy, it seems I’ll be getting a lot of ultrasounds. Of course I am well aware that even highly monitored there’s still a chance something could go wrong. But I knew that before Devin died (well, not in quite the same way). But in the case of the unpredictable, it’s either going to go right or it’s not and there’s not much you can do about it. Chances are things will be fine, and I have to just function on that knowledge.

Now getting pregnant, on the other hand…. I’m afraid the chances are much more hazy in that direction. Sometimes I think I’m being completely foolish, hoping that something will happen naturally and spontaneously. So I guess we hope for the best while preparing to tackle IVF sometime in the future, somehow.

I’m feeling a lot better (physically) today than I have been. I’d say, “Yay!” however all that means is that I need to take a shower and do errands that I’d been avoiding while I was sick.

Emotionally I’m feeling better, too. Yesterday was a good day. Today feels okay too. Days like this give me reassurance that I will somehow get through this, that someday I will feel happy again.

Two whole days of feeling not-bad! Friday I was still coughing and had a frog-voice but we went to see Ironman anyways – and it was worth it. And sitting through the movie wasn’t bad at all, only a couple of coughs, which signalled to me that things were looking up. This morning I woke up and felt a ton better physically. Emotionally I’ve been doing pretty well. Two good days of actually feeling happy and silly and enjoying the little things. I’m feeling positive.

Friday as I was scrapbooking I ended up staring at a bunch of pregnancy photos taken about two weeks before Devin died… so when my belly was big and round. I just sat there, flipping through them, staring. It’s getting harder to remember what it felt like to be pregnant.. not beingn able to bend over, bumping into things, feeling the kicks and squirms inside. It’s hazy like a dream… and the more time elapses the more hazy it gets. That upsets me a little… I want to remember, I want to hold onto that moment.

But I didn’t get weepy. I was a little dazed by the memories and realizing that it really was me just a couple months ago, that it really did happen. But I will be pregnant again, and I will get to experience that again. It’s something to look forward to. I’m back to feeling grateful that I experienced it at all. I am thankful for those memories.

Tonight I met Den at work, at the “club” on base, for some drinks and socialising. I had a large white russian that had considerably more vodka in it than a white russian is supposed to have. I started feeling tipsy only halfway through the drink – which is rather unlike me, or at least unlike how I used to be. The good news is that I did not have an emotional crash afterwards. I just felt pleasantly buzzed and that faded into me feeling a little tired but still quite pleasant. I am relieved. But maybe I’ll just stick to having drinks when I’m having a good day.

::

Wow, I just realized something. I ended up staring at the pathology report entry as I flipped through some pages here and something jumped out at me: his length. His crown-to-rump length was only 26cm, which is at the very lowest end of normal for that gestation (as indicated by the report, at least). But his crown to HEEL length was 44cm, which is above average. He had long legs! I shouldn’t be surprized by that, I have long legs and we already knew his fingers were long and skinny. Sigh. He was such the perfect little baby. I hope our next one is too.

::

And then of course I randomly come across something like, say, my the Amazon Wish List I’d created already for Christmas presents for Devin. Another reminder of what we’ve lost. Just another stab in the heart.

When I was pregnant I felt a little disconnected from the infertility blogosphere – it’s hard to really feel the same kind of pain when you are pregnant. I skimmed the lost and found, mostly to check to see if anyone I knew was pregnant or had a baby. But most of the names were unknown to me. Some days I would skip reading it altogether.

I read the Lost and Found every day now. Except now instead of scrolling down to see who had a baby I immediately scan down to Loss Announcements. Every day I check it, holding my breath, waiting… waiting for someone else to lose their baby like I did. I breathe a sigh of relief every day that there’s no tragedy announced.

::

I still can’t say that I feel connected to the community in the same way I used to. Am I still infertile after having a baby? Am I still infertile when we have barely started trying? In some ways it feels like I’m back at the very beginning, starting the TTC journey and not knowing if infertility is in my future or not. It feels like a separate timeline, a blank slate.

I’ve heard enough people say, “Maybe pregnancy will fix it,” that I actually believe it’s possible. That belief makes me nervous, because if I’m not “fixed” will I end up with another huge diappointment as we face the whole process again? Will I feel like my body failed me all over again? I don’t know if it’s better to start out pessimistic and plan for IVF right from the start, or to hold on to the hope that we won’t need it. I know – hope for the best, plan for the worst.

The first time around, even after the 1-year mark when I was most certainly considered infertile, there was always that feeling that next month I could get pregnant and be kicked out of the club. Not that the people on the blogosphere would do that intentionally – the Lost and Found is a glowing example of how all infertiles are acknowledged and supported, no matter the state of pregnancy. But still, once you’re pregnant your readership does change. When you read the struggles of those still in the trenches you can no longer relate to them in the same way as you did before.

The infertility club is a transient state for most (those who are at the end of their journey with no resolution are a different category altogether). Yes, it is for life – the frustration and pain will stay with you, the struggle of infertility will forever alter you. But at the same time, most do move on in some way. You are struggling towards something and the pain emerges from not being able to attain it. Once you get pregnant and have a baby, or adopt a baby, you have finally arrived. That thing you wanted so bad is finally yours.

But losing a baby has no resolution. You want not just a child, you want that child. And you will never, ever get it. The deadbabymama club is not something you will ever move on from. There is no “maybe tomorrow.” There is no chance of this ever working out the way you want it to.

::

Some of the deadbabymamas in blogland have started a community for us: Glow In The Woods, a fantastic idea. I’m really excited about it and hope to contribute to the project as it grows. I can see a ton of promise for it.

If you have lost a child please go check it out and be sure to submit your blog. It would be wonderful to have a thriving community, a hub for those who have lost to find others in similar situations.

Glow in the Woods 6×6 for May. Join in with me, write in your own blog and then leave a comment in GITW with a link.

1 | In a word, how would you characterize yourself before your loss, and then after?
Before: Joyful. After: Adrift.

2 | How do you feel around pregnant women?
I always look at them full of envy and question, do they really appreciate what they have? Do they really understand how precious it is?

3 | How do you answer the ‘how many children’ question?
“None living.” And then I wait to see if they ask what exactly that means. I think about saying, “One – he died.” But so far I haven’t been brave enough.

4 | How did you explain what happened to your lost baby to your living children? Or, if this was your first pregnancy, will you tell future children about your first?
We will absolutely tell our future children about Devin. I hope to make him a part of our lives, with his tree, his scrapbook, his photo. I hope our children grow up cherishing his memory too.

5 | What would another pregnancy mean to you, and how would you get through it—or are you done with babymaking?
Another pregnancy would mean everything to me. Hope renewed. A second chance at getting this right. I hope to take lots of photos – even more than last time – and spend time every day being thankful for what I have. And then try not to freak out completely.

6 | Imagine being able to step back in time and whisper into the ear of your past self the day after your baby died. What would you say?
Just do what you are doing. Write. You will get through this.

I feel like life isn’t all about babies anymore. It’s very strange, in a way. I’ve been all about babies since around the time that we started TTC (end of 2005) – especially when we hit infertility treatments, and then pregnancy. My life was all about that. Every day was thinking about the next appointment, the next procedure. The am I pregnant, am I not pregnant? Boy or girl? Baby gear lists and shower planning and waiting for labor.

Now it’s… not. I thought I had fallen back into the TTC mode again, but the more time elapses the less I think about that too. Part of it is because it hurts too much to think about babies in any capacity. Even when I was TTC I was already planning what kind of baby’s room I’d have, and what strollers I liked. Now thinking about baby gear isn’t just a thought of times to come but also a reminder of times past. It’s no longer such a fun daydream… it tends to spark nightmares. I haven’t been reading the journals of friends who are pregnant or have babies, so I’m getting a good daily reminder of other fun things in life. Other topics, other conversations. In some ways it’s like taking a breath of fresh air.

My period has yet to arrive. And yet… I am not particularly bothered by this. I make a mental note of it every few days. Sometimes the thought rises unbidden in to my mind: maybe I’m pregnant right now? And then I laugh and tell myself that’s just stupid-thought and it’s a road I really really do not need to go down right now. So I drop it. I figure at some point it’ll probably become important enough for me to take a pregnancy test… maybe in two weeks, three, four. But right now I’m satisfied to just let my body take time to recoup and get back on track. I’m not concerned. Ovulation was never my issue. It’ll happen sooner or later.

I think part of the reason I am so relaxed about it is that I’m not sure it would be ideal for me to get pregnant before even having a period. I wouldn’t have a clue when I was due, though it would be January or sooner (which is not ideal in my book). And to be honest I’m a little scared about having to deal with the anxiety that will come along with it. But we are not willing to “take a break” and potentially waste the one month were it might have worked. If I do get pregnant it will be a huge blessing and I’ll probably freak out with joy. But I think part of that “it’s not ideal” mindset is me convincing myself that it’s okay not to get pregnant – to cushion the inevitable blow.

I don’t know if I’m particularly ready for either happening, my period or pregnancy. So right now I’m okay with just drifting in ignorance.

Today I wore my pre-pregnancy jeans. Buttoned. And they didn’t feel horrible. In fact I felt incredibly sexy and just so pleased with myself. I still do not look like I did pre-pregnancy – ewww, pudge that overhangs my jeans, not sexy – but the fact that I fit in them now when I didn’t a couple of weeks ago is certainly a reassuring sign.

I need to work harder to get rid of this pudge and extra weight… but I still have this stupid cold, and it makes it difficult to breathe.

::

My latest project has been resume-writing. Yes… I am looking for a job. It was going to be very tight after Devin was born, but I was willing to sacrifice things in order to be a stay-at-home-mom. Now that’s off the table for the time being and I’m left with a lot of time on my hands and a need to re-define my life. Den and I have had some long discussions about it and talked about how much of our debts (car loans, student loan) we could pay off if I worked even just for a year. Our budget is almost entirely balanced by Den’s income (what little I make is just enough to get us through) – anything I make can go directly to fun things or to paying off debts to make our life easier when I do get to be a stay-at-home-mom.

Of course, “writing a resume” sounds easy, but I have spent the last 3 days practically bashing my head against a wall. Very stressful. And it’s not like I’ll be devastated if I don’t get this job – even though it sounds like the perfect job for me – but if I don’t get it I don’t want it to be because I totally screwed up my resume.

I am scared if it does work out and I get this job, but I’m really trying not to stress out about things that may not happen… I may not get considered at all. So I’ll just submit my resume and see what comes of it, and deal with the rest later. It’s kind of a relief to have it taken out of my hands once the resume is in the mail.

::

I’ve been having a lot of gas issues since giving birth… well, before then, actually. But now everything is settling in my abdomen to where they used to be and it feels totally different. Lately I’ve been having little gas bubbles that, for a tiny split-second, make me think it’s little baby kicks and cause me to freeze.

What the hell is with this sinus thing I have?? I was feeling much better, then today I feel horrid again. I can barely breathe. My nose is starting to hurt from all the nose-blowing. Ugh!! Go away!!

This is Zoe. She is my fun-loving little shadow dog.

This is her as a puppy, this is the photo I fell in love with. I saw her face online and I just knew, I knew, she had to be mine.

And this is her all grown up:

I stumbled across that puppy photo just now, rearranging some files on my computer. I opened it up and stared, smiling and tearing up at how little she was. I find it hard to remember what I saw when I first found her listed on Petfinder. Did I see the fear in her eyes? I certainly never imagined she’d grow up looking like she does. But now when I gaze at her precious puppy photo I see Zoe as she is today. I see her playfulness and trusting nature. I see her love and loyalty. And, yes, I still see her anxiousness. She never really grew out of that – but at least it only surfaces in predictable bursts, in between an attitude of sheer joy for life.

I love that little dog. She has the kind of personality that can brighten you no matter what. She can get bitchy with her big brother, but she has a remarkably positive attitude, even for a dog. She doesn’t sulk, she doesn’t plot. She doesn’t get angry. She never argues with anything. She LOVES to play, but the minute you trap her – grab her nose, pin her down – she goes immediately limp and just starts wagging her tail furiously. “Oh darn, you got me!” she’d laugh if she could speak. She does get scared – but the moment the scary moment has passed she’s wagging her tail and grinning like only a dog can.

It could have been hard to have that around in my grief. It could have. But she doesn’t fake it. She isn’t trying to cheer me up, she isn’t wishing I would forget my pain. She’s just taking the moment for what it is, treasuring it, enjoying it, living it. And that’s all there is to her.

Frankly that sounds like a wonderful way to live life right now.

And when I can’t, well, then I can look over at my weird little dog rolling around on her back, bone in her mouth, growling and kicking her legs wildly in the air in a way that defies any common logic, and laugh.