Baby Funk

Before you read this, know that I am writing this for me.  I am writing because if I let these thoughts and feelings continue to swirl around inside of me, they will swallow me whole.  And I am not about to let that happen.  I am not writing for pity. I am not writing for sympathy.  I am not writing for advice.  I am not writing for explanations from anyone. I am simply writing because it is therapeutic for me to organize myself through writing.  

So here we are, Friday, October 16, 2015 driving to Telluride, Colorado to celebrate our 8th wedding anniversary.  We stopped for a lovely lunch in Gunnison, just across the street from the Western State Colorado University campus. The sun was shining, the air was crisp and we had a sense of adventure in our hearts, as we Funks usually do.  As we got closer to Telluride, it began POURING rain. I mean a complete downpour.  The rain hitting the car was so loud that at some points, you couldn't even hear the music playing in the car.  As we got closer to town, the rain stopped and then suddenly there was the most majestic rainbow I have ever seen welcoming us to Telluride.  I told Ryan to stop and pull over so I could take a picture, of course.  I stood there in awe of that rainbow, while still getting rained on a bit.  It was such a beautiful contrast to the storm we just drove through.  So ironic.  The rainbow.  The storm.  Everything.

As we drove into town and pulled up to our Hotel, I told Ryan that I realized that weekend was my grandparents anniversary weekend.  And those of you who have known me for awhile, know just how much my grandparents mean to me, and particularly how close I became with my grandmother in her final years.  Their anniversary is October 17th and ours is October 20th.  When I realized that we were in Telluride on THEIR anniversary weekend, I knew that rainbow was my grandmother.  She had to say hello and welcome us to Telluride - as Colorado was one of their favorite places in the world.  And they traveled just about EVERYWHERE!  What a sweet moment to feel her presence so greatly.  

Ryan surprised me with a bottle of Gruet Brut - the champagne we had when we got engaged in Santa Fe, New Mexico in the summer of 2006.  Ryan proposed to me in a hot air balloon at 7:30am overlooking the mountains of Santa Fe.  When we landed, our hot air balloon captain busted out a bottle of Gruet Brut (made in New Mexico), so you can imagine how sweet and sentimental it was that Ryan went out and bought this champagne for us without me knowing, until we got to our hotel.  He is certainly the quiet observant type, but he is incredibly thoughtful and obviously romantic.  {Sorry, Ryan - secret's out.}  We busted out the champagne before our dinner reservation and we were obviously excited to be away from home and celebrating 8 years together!  

Thankfully, everywhere in Telluride is walking distance.  Good thing, because I had a little too much to drink that night.  You see that wine glass below?  That was a HEAVY pour.  And I think I had 2 or 3 of them.  Yikes.  {And for the record, I highly recommend Siam for a delicious Thai dinner in Telluride.  AMAZING!}  

After dinner we walked home to our hotel, did some married couple things and then went and sat in the hot tub.  Turns out....that night, Baby Funk was created.  But I am skipping ahead of myself...Let's move on to October 30, 2015.

I had picked up a hospital shift that day. It was a Friday. As soon as the hospital doors opened to the atrium, I immediately felt sick when I smelled that "hospital smell." You know that smell, right? Well normally, that smell is a familiar and comforting smell for me. Normally, it feels like home (in a weird sort of way), as I have been an OT for 10 years now and worked in my fair share of hospitals. But this day, that smell was nauseating. I wondered if I was hungover from happy hour the day before. But that was impossible, as I only had 2 hard ciders. I wondered if I was just tired because I didn't sleep well from said 2 drinks. Whatever it was, it didn't matter, time to get my game face on and go work with my patients. 

I worked on the Otho/spine unit all morning. Ironically, I had a conversation with a patient that morning about having children vs. not having children. He was an elderly gentleman who had just had his hip replaced. He told me that there is nothing wrong with choosing to NOT have children. And at the very least, it is wise to wait and do all the traveling and things we want to BEFORE having kids. He said he loved being a father (to his one daughter) but that in all honesty, having children changes your whole life. {Little did I know that I was pregnant while having this conversation with him.} 

By lunch time, I was ravenous. I returned to the therapy office to heat up my lunch, but by the time I heated it up, I took a bite and was disgusted by it! 🙊 I felt so nauseous and dizzy but didn't feel sick sick. I texted my dear friend from work and told her what was going on. She promptly told me "Ummm, sweetheart, you might need to take a test." Of course, she meant a pregnancy test. 😳 Of course, my anxiety shoots through the roof. And my mind begins obsessing over dates..."Is it possible?" "When was my last period?" "No, that can't be possible." "But why am I nauseous? And why did I NOT want to eat? That is NOT normal." 

The long story short is that I came home, had a line pregnancy test in my cabinet (yes, I am THAT girl who does a test if I am even 2 days late....), I took the test and thought it was negative (see first pregnancy test below, the one at the top). But it wasn't.  THANK GOD I texted a PICTURE to my friend as she ever so gently pointed out that 'faint second line' but quickly reassured me that maybe it was just a 'grainy picture' and I should take a digital test just to be certain. 

I called Ryan and asked him to stop on his way home from work to get something for me, when he asked me what, I told him what was going on.  He also very cautiously said, "Oooookkkkkaaaay" not knowing if I was terrified or excited and I think he wanted to match my emotions, as any supportive husband would.  As soon as he got home, I took the digital test (2nd from the top, in picture below) and it promptly said 'NO.' I went about my night as if everything was normal, knowing damn good and well that I wasn't REALLY going to know anything until I got my period, which was not due until that Monday.  I had to wait another THREE days and it just about killed me.  The next morning, I decided to do another line test (3rd from the top) and there was the same thing as the first one, a VERY faint second line.  {By the way ladies, there is NO such thing as a FALSE POSITIVE, so if you EVER see a 2nd line of ANY kind, you ARE indeed pregnant. The lines do NOT, I repeat, do NOT, have to look the SAME.}

  

So here we are, October 31st, with a 2nd positive pregnancy test and me still in denial.  We obviously did not do much that  weekend as we were in a complete state of anxiety and suddenly I had to act as though I was in fact pregnant.  So no Halloween parties, no drinks, no nothing.  Just a LOT of waiting around.  On Sunday morning, I couldn't take it anymore so I decided to do the other digital test and told Ryan that I had learned that the digital tests are less sensitive to hcg (pregnancy hormone) levels than the line tests.  As you can see (bottom pregnancy test below), it said 'YES!'

You know, it's kinda funny that I found out I was pregnant before I even missed a period.  And here is why: Over the last 6 months, I have gotten into probably the best shape of my life or at least my adult life.  I have become so in tune with my body and how I am feeling that I noticed that nausea and super sniffer IMMEDIATELY.  By the way, having an insanely acute sense of smell is by FAR the WORST super power there ever was.  Everything made me feel sick, the smell of food, the smell of my shampoo, the smell of the dogs, the smell of children at school...all of it. As Jimmy Fallon would say, "EW."  I didn't eat very much for 5 weeks.  Rice Krispies was my go to.  And cheerios.  And potatoes.  Of any kind.  These were not so much cravings as they were the only foods I could tolerate.  The nausea got so bad that I called my doctor to get a prescription for Diclegis, to help with the nausea so that I could eat food.  It helped somewhat, though working out was definitely OFF my radar.  The last time I worked out hard, I barfed as soon as I finished.  All that up and down movement did NOT feel good, and so I learned from that workout and didn't do it again.  See picture below.

This was me weeks 4-9.

Then we went home to Dallas for Thanksgiving break.  When we arrived to my in-laws, there was this sweet onesie waiting for us in our room.  Swoon!  Of course I had already made a secret Pinterest board to design the nursery and I shared some of my favorite things with my mother in law.  One of the things I shared with her was a picture of the mountains that said "You are our greatest adventure."  Hence the onesie she had made for us.  I mean, it's perfect.  We spent the week with my in laws and friends and shared our surprising and happy news! Baby Funk, who would've thunk?

We got back from Dallas and anxiously awaited our first ultrasound appointment on Friday, December 4th.  Ryan met me at the appointment on his lunch break.  I texted 2 of my best friends here and told them how nervous I was.  One of them asked me why.  I told him I was nervous because my sister-in-law had a miscarriage a year and a half ago and that it was terrifying walking in to an appointment where we were either going to get GREAT news or TERRIBLE news.  No pressure, right?  He assured me that everything was going to be okay, and I told him, "Yeah, you are right.  I have no reason to be worried. I have been SO sick and that's all a good sign."  I was very nervous walking into the doctor's office but once I started filling out the paperwork, a sense of calm came over me.  

Little did I know, we were about to drive right back into that storm...  

We met the midwife, who's name was Jackie, and we started with all the questions as she prepared to do the ultrasound.  As soon as she turned it on, I knew something was wrong.  She told me my bladder looked to be 'very full' and she needed me to go empty it so she could 'get a better look.' 

I had JUST peed before I went in there.

My bladder wasn't full.

But I did as she asked and returned to the room to 'Try Again.'

She was eerily quiet and suddenly said, "Wellllll, I am not seeing what I'm supposed to be seeing."

CRICKETS....

Me: "So what does that mean?"

Jackie: "That most likely this is not a viable pregnancy.  I mean, I see the sac, but then there is nothing. And then there is this white stuff and I am not sure what that is.  I am going to need the doctor take a look at you.  I know you must think that I don't know what I am talking about.  But I have been doing this for 20 years, and I just do not know what I am seeing.  But I DO know that I am NOT seeing what I am supposed to be seeing."

She leaves the room to find my doctor.  Ryan and I look at each other blankly and broken hearted.  

Do we panic?  Do we cry?  Do we get angry?  What is going on?  Why didn't we hear that heartbeat?  Weren't we supposed to be able to hear a heartbeat today?  What is going on?

Jackie came back in the room and said, "I am SO sorry but we are going to have to move you to another room that has a better ultrasound machine. And maybe the doctor will be able to see something that I couldn't."  We followed Jackie to a back room and waited for what felt like hours but in reality was probably 30-40 minutes for my doctor..  I should mention that this back room was COVERED in pictures of newborn babies.  Probably the worst place to take a new mother about be told that she is likely going to have a miscarriage.  And believe you me, when I went back to the doctor for medication a week later, I let her know just how insensitive I thought that was.  I sat there and sobbed while we waited for her.  When she finally came in, she didn't really tell me anything different than the midwife (Jackie).  She did have a hard time finding my left ovary and said it looked like a fibroid, maybe.  She told me my 'anatomy looks different' and she wanted the sonographer to look at me for my next ultrasound.  She also told me, "We need more data points.  So I want you to come back on Monday for more blood work and we will compare your HCG levels."  I was not even thinking straight and thankfully Ryan asked what she was looking for in the bloodwork.  She informed us that in a 48 hour period, my HCG levels should double and that if they stay the same or drop, it means I am going to have a miscarriage.  But she couldn't tell me that for sure.  She said she has seen cases where she though it wasn't going to be a viable pregnancy and then somehow it all turned around and everything was okay in the end.  But she did say, "Even if this is a miscarriage, it's still a good thing.  You CAN get pregnant! And it's in your uterus... And YOUR sperm work! And they work TOGETHER! And that's more than many of my patients can say.  This just might not be THE one."  I want you to know that I am incredibly grateful for this (and it certainly does give me hope for the future) and while it took the sting away a little bit in the moment, it didn't change our reality and what we were about to walk through together.  

So there we were, yet again, going into another weekend of anxious waiting, and yet somehow knowing that this wasn't right and that if it was, we would have heard that heartbeat and we would have had tears of joy and overwhelming gratitude. But we didn't. We had fear. Anxiety. Sadness. Anger. Worry. 

{Note: Prepare for TMI}

On Sunday, I woke up early.  We talked about going skiing that day to distract me from all the feelings and fear.  Then I got up to go to the bathroom and started spotting.  I immediately started crying again.  Mostly because I was sad and a little because I was relieved to have a PHYSICAL sign to let me know the answer.  All day I expected things to start moving along as I began cramping pretty bad that morning.  I waited and waited and waited.  And nothing.

On Monday morning I went into the doctor at 8am and Ryan again accompanied me for moral support.  We decided we couldn't go in to work that day as we were awaiting a call from the doctor and far to mentally and emotionally preoccupied to be at work.  Thankfully my doctor called us at lunch time and let me know that my HCG levels had indeed dropped between Friday afternoon and Monday morning.  There it is.  Confirmed miscarriage.  It's every woman's fear, every woman's nightmare.  And now that I am going through it for myself, I can tell you that it is every bit as painful and awful as you would imagine, if not more so.  I waited a whole week for things to get flowing but they didn't.  So I went back to the doctor on Friday to get a medication to get things moving.  You see, my little sister is getting married in 2.5 weeks, and this needs to be over by then.  It just has to.  Please save your opinions on whether or not I should have taken that medication.  It was a decision I made with my doctor and the support of my husband and that's all that matters.  On a positive note, the medication worked! Praise God! Finally, something went as we expected or hoped for!  It was a painful weekend, literally.  It was very painful physically, much worse than I ever anticipated.  And it should be noted that I consider myself to have a very high pain tolerance from years and years as an athlete - you play in pain all the time and don't think twice about it. But THIS was different. This felt like someone was knifing me in my lady parts.  Sorry to be so graphic, but that's what it felt like.  It was torture.  Nothing pretty or positive to say about that.  It was awful.

On Sunday, it all seemed to be calming down and I went to bed Sunday night focused on the week ahead and trying to wrap up the last week of work on a positive note.  But again, God had other plans....and I woke up at 2am with the most excruciating pain of my life and ending up bleeding so much that I called my doctor at 4:30am to ask what I was supposed to do if I felt like I was getting so dizzy I might pass out.  She told me to go to the ER.  So to the ER we went.  Originally, they had assigned me to a room with a male nurse, who quickly told us that he thought I might want a female nurse.  So they immediately transferred me to a different room and there was my female nurse...an angel, I tell you.  She looked me dead in the eye and said, "This is the WORST thing you will probably ever go through. Ever.  But you WILL make it through.  And we are going to make this more comfortable for you - as much as we can."  As she came around to my left side to get an IV line started, I asked her through some quiet whimpering tears, "Have you ever been through this?"  She hung her head, looked me in the eye again and said, "Yes.  I have.  I lost my first baby between 8 and 9 weeks. And there is NOTHING anyone can do or say that will make this better.  But you are certainly not alone. I am here with you."  I just started crying.  Mostly because of the excruciating physical pain I was in and also because I was hurting. My heart hurt like it has never hurt before.  

The PA came in to do what turned out to be the most painful pelvic exam of my life.  Ryan and that angel nurse held my hands as I cried out in pain like I have never done before in my entire life.  It was like a scene from a movie, only it was happening to me.  This was my Monday morning.  It was probably the WORST Monday morning ever.

The good news it that the sonograpger in the ER found my left ovary, he did NOT see any fibroids, and according to him, my uterus looked 'clear' and there was nothing more they could see that would cause me such pain as the large blood clot I likely passed earlier. They gave me some morphine and fluids and I was discharged back home.  The Percocet has helped me get through the week.  Well, that and knowing that after tomorrow, I will be off of work until January 4th, giving me time to recover and heal and process all that has happened in the last 2 months of our lives.  

It's been a lot.

Both of these pictures above represent love. 

The picture on the left represents the love I had for my baby, Baby Funk, the baby we lost. The baby we thought we might name Ryder, as a play on words from the word 'Telluride', as I had a very strong feeling this baby would have been a boy.  This picture also represents the love I had of being and becoming a mother.  It represents the passionate love of life that I have and yet it also represents the emotional depth at which I experience life. In this case, it was feeling the crushing blow of shocking and utter devastating news when you hear "It means this is likely not a viable pregnancy" at nearly 9 weeks pregnant, when you were expecting to hear that baby's heartbeat together for the very first time.  

The picture on the right represents the love I have for Ryan, the outdoors, skiing, having a glass of wine, eating delicious food and getting away from the monotony of everyday life. It represents things that I love that bring me JOY.

Together these pictures represent all the love and heartbreak that I am simultaneously experiencing on a daily basis. 

...................................................................................................................................................................

I have to believe that God did this for a reason.  That he knows my heart and what I can and can't handle.  I have to believe that maybe this baby wasn't going to be healthy and somehow this current heartache is saving me from a greater heartache further down the road.  I have to believe that this is all for a reason, even if that reason is unbeknownst to me right now.  

I have to believe that the rain will stop, the storm will pass and that rainbow will suddenly reappear again someday.