G-Ma Turns 60!

So in April of 2018 my mother turned 60 years old!
She was not excited about it, but we thought it was something worth celebrating and making a big deal out of. So we had booked a girls weekend away at the beach. We got a nice suite with two separate bedrooms and a hot tub on the balcony. We were all busy in April, so we scheduled it for May.

I feel like this trip needs a little preface:

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Before going on the trip, but after already booking the trip Brent and I had been planning to try for our fifth and final baby/pregnancy.
It happened quickly and we were cautiously excited.
We would be due in November when I would be at the tail end of my Master's program.
I felt that this was fitting since I finished my undergrad pregnant and delivering Emmett.

Like usual we tried to wait to the 12 week mark before we allowed ourselves to be too excited. We had the 8 week ultrasound, everything was great.

We scheduled the 12 week apt on Brent's birthday. We were anticipating also being able to do the blood work that would also tell us the gender. On the way there we were talking about what having another boy would be like, or the possibility of finally having a girl. The plan was to go straight to dinner for his birthday after the appointment.

Unfortunately when we settled in and our room and the doctor tried the usually Doppler so we could hear the little helicopter flutter of our baby's heart, it was silent. The kind of silence that puts an automatic lump in your throat. I felt my heart drop, because I felt like I just knew....

I knew that something was wrong. Even when they tried to calm and reassure me. Even when we went back for the more intensive and invasive ultrasound. Sitting in silence while the technician worked in silence. There our baby was. No movement. No little twitches and no sign of life. Silent, and I knew.

I guess there really is no art form for helping people hear this news, accept this news, and process this news. Our doctor was very matter-of-fact. She was comforting, but also wanting to be realistic and move on to next steps. They said the baby was measuring a little over 11 weeks. So it had just "expired". I of course felt like I had somehow done something. I was also having an inner narrative saying these things happen so often, it was only a matter of time before I experienced it. Trying to plan what came next was not what I wanted to do. I wanted to rewind time to last week. When I was still pregnant and fine. When I was ignorant to the fact that soon the baby would "expire" and I would be sitting in an office with a nurse practitioner I really never even liked or bonded with, giving me options and trying to navigate me through this impossible situation.

I was very reluctant to go have a surgery to remove the fetus, so I opted for the pills that assist the movement of the fetus naturally.

It. Was. A. Nightmare.
Poor Brent.
Not only did he have to spend his birthday learning our baby had died/expired/was not viable, but then he had to babysit me while I personally reenacted a horror film in our bedroom. I know it is graphic, but seriously...they said to expect blood. Nothing could prepare me for the amount of fluid that I passed those two days. I stood in the shower and was literally just draining. Brent ended up calling them and almost took me to the ER at one point because I pretty much just passed out on the bathroom. I couldn't sit up, I couldn't stand. I couldn't keep my eyes open. It was scary.

I had to go in the following week so they could test my hormones and do another ultrasound to see if all of the fetus passed.

It did not.

Because I had "cleared" so much with that first round of pills she offered for me to do that again. I was reluctant, but at least I knew what to expect. Again, to me (at the time) this was still better than going in and having "surgery".

This time I took the pills and there was hardly anything. In fact, I though this was great. I thought, I was supposed to stop bleeding, right?
My Mom's birthday trip was coming up fast, so I was happy to be done with all of this. However...

...we went a few days later and they did another ultrasound to check for remaining tissue or fetus remnants. Annnnd you guessed it, they found a tiny small spec. Which meant, after everything I had to go in for surgery anyways.
My mother's birthday trip was the very next day, I wanted to wait until the next week, but Brent and the doctor felt it would be best if I went straight to the hospital right then, and got it taken care of. If only I had eaten breakfast, that would not have even been an option...but no, I hadn't eaten. So I was able to go have a surgery.

I felt the fight or flight kick in. I couldn't really argue with the fact that not going forward could leave me susceptible to a slew of infections and the possibility of not being able to conceive later. So silently crying I went over to the hospital.

Entering those two front doors, I was panicked and crying. Brent was by my side the whole time. In fact he handled everything as I was like a catatonic walking, crying, zombie at this point. I know the nurses were so sweet and attentive and thought it was probably more about the circumstance of losing a baby, the reason for my hysteria, but I knew the truth...
I was freaking out about being put under anesthetics. I had never had surgery. All of my kids were delivered naturally. The fact I had to have IV's and be wheeled away from my husband taken back unconscious in a room full of people while they scrape out my nethers....that was my real problem. I had made peace with losing our baby. I knew the baby was where it needed to be. I was not where I wanted to be though. It was traumatic. Brent has been put under for several things...his oral surgeries alone, he's been under 3 times. Then there is carpal tunnel surgery...to him I was being a little over dramatic (although he'd never say that).

I was hooked up to IV's and changed into a very flattering gown. It was several hours before they were actually ready for me. The worst part of the whole day (in retrospect) was having to disconnect from the IV in order to go to the bathroom. When I came back and they re-hooked me up to the lines, they would flush them and my hand would burn. It sucked. Not to mention walking around in a very flimsy sheet around a busy room, surrounded by many people with only sheets between us.

When they wheeled me away from Brent I was already feeling the effects of whatever they gave me. I literally only remember being wheeled into a room with about four people standing around waiting, and then I woke up in another room. I felt coherent and alert. I was worried about feeling groggy and cloudy, but I wasn't at all.
Brent collected me. We waited awhile and they FINALLY release us. I was excited that I could finally eat a little something.

The whole experience was so easy I felt kind of silly not just going and doing that from the beginning of this whole ordeal. Instead of that nightmare I had put myself through. There was a finality to it. I knew it was finally over. I could grieve and move on.

Even though I was ready to move on, I was not ready to drive. Apparently the stuff they give you lasts a while and you cannot operate machinery for a couple days. So, the next morning my Mom came and picked me up and we headed to the beach to celebrate her birthday.
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Yes, back to my Mom's birthday celebrations....

The drive was great. I made a playlist of a ton of my mom's favorite songs from the 70's and 80's. We were singing and jamming the whole way. We drove in to Lincoln City and decided to eat at a cute little Thai place. This was quite out of character for my mom. She didn't know what to order or what she would like, so we had fun trying different things.

After that we decided to head on down to the beach. Jen and Carleen were still working! So we had plenty of time.

We walked for quite awhile on the beach. One thing I love about the ocean is how much perspective it can give you. We really are so small and insignificant in the grad scheme of things.

Once the girls got there we checked in to the hotel room, and then headed back out to the beach.

The next day we drove to Depot Bay and went to every shop there. We had a blast. We played in every store. We ate good food. And man did we laugh....

We also enjoyed the hotel. The hot tub. And playing lots of games together.

The Starfish Manor

I wasn't actually allowed to get in the hot tub...sad times

We brought stuff for facials and other pampering things...

It was a great place to rejuvenate

It was a great celebration. It was amazing being able to go and heal and grieve surrounded by these women who have held me throughout all of life's trials thus far. I am so happy I have my tribe.
We reinforced the mother daughter bonds, and made some great memories.
Now this year we have to plan something big for Jennifer's 40th birthday...