32 weeks

I haven't posted in a while. I've been so mentally and physically exhausted that even though I really wanted to blog, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Let's catch up, shall we?

As said before, my doctor was planning on starting non stress tests (NSTs) at 30 weeks. At 29w6d I went in for my ultrasound at the hospital for a growth check. Colin had the day off school and Mark was stuck at work, but I still felt confident that day.

Reagan only gained 7 oz in the 3 weeks since my previous ultrasound, putting her in the 6th percentile. We've been diagnosed with IUGR (intrauterine growth restriction). The next thing I knew the tech was leaving the room and came back with the doctor, 2 residents, and another ultrasound technician. It was all I could do to keep myself together. My phone was dying, my 6 year old was sitting next to me, and I was so angry...Angry at this whole process. Angry with the worry I've been carrying around with every single ounce of me for the past year trying to have a baby in our arms that could come home with us. Angry there is nothing I did to cause this and nothing I could have done to prevent it. Just plain angry. I've always said I don't care what happens to me, but so help me God I won't allow things to happen to my kids. And here I am... helpless.

Mark and I have told limited people. One, I don't want to be bombarded by a million questions from everyone and their cousin. Two, I don't want people worrying.... Lord knows I'm all over that department. But most importantly, I don't want Reagan to be viewed as the "sick baby" or that there is something "wrong" with her. She is perfectly healthy.... everything is functioning just as it should. She's just small. Period.

The doctor has had me drinking 4+ protein shakes. They're nasty. Stupid thing to complain about. Obviously, I'm doing it... just as I inject myself twice a day in the little bit of extra skin I have left on my belly. I'm doing whatever I have to do...whatever Reagan needs. It is just difficult seeing other people...hearing stories of drug addicts.... having children and miraculously they are somehow okay. It makes my heart break for those that are having problems conceiving and for those that have lost their little ones when they did anything and everything "right".

On a lighter note, Jeanne hosted my baby shower the following day at the Butterfly House. It was WONDERFUL! She is so darn detailed it's ridiculous (and another reason why I love her to pieces). The theme was purple and butterflies and man... is that girl good. We received so many wonderful gifts, ate great food, and were so lucky to be around such supportive family and friends. We truly are blessed.

I went for my first NST that Tuesday and Reagan passed. I went back on Friday and her heartrate was low... the lowest it's ever been. It's typically in the 140-150 range and I was watching it at 112-120. Again here I am laying on an exam table by myself totally helpless. It is so infuriating. The doctor saw her heartrate jump up a few times and it was responsive, so he told me to watch my kick counts and for any bleeding and to come back in the following week.

We had another baby shower (this time with my husband's dad's side of the family) and once again were so blessed by everyone's generousity... it was just very difficult for me because I was so upset with the test results from Friday.

Last Tuesday her heart rate was back up where it ussally has been and we quickly passed the NST... amniotic fluid looked great. Mark's mom came with me and we were both laughing at Reagan just kicking the crud out of the monitor.

Friday the heartrate was lower again. Mark was with me and was nearly falling asleep listening to Rea's heartbeat. Her heart wasn't reacting like it should have been, so Dr. Forseter had me drink some soda and it did the trick! She started moving all over the place and her heart was reacting just like it should. Again, amniotic fluid levels were good and we were able to see her practice breathing on the ultrasound in the office.

I have another NST tomorrow, one on Friday, and the next ultrasound at the hospital on Friday as well. I am excited to see my little monkey but also extremely nervous and anxious... I am hoping and praying that these protein shakes are doing something and helping her grow...

The past few weeks have been lonely, in all honesty. Very very lonely inside my "deep" thinking head with me, myself and I as my only company. There are a few people who know what is going on... obviously my husband knows, his mom, and a few select friends... but I find that I divy up information and my feelings about it. I know that others probably view me as an open book, but as I reflect back I find that I allow others to see a small window inside of my thoughts. Noone really knows the depth of how much all of this bothers me... how deep my daily pain in waking up to Reagan kicking and getting Colin ready for school and thinking of Gabby and Ryan...and it sounds so stupid. As extremely grateful as I am for my family I will never not miss my babies. Ever. It's an empty aching hole in my soul that noone else... not even another baby... can replace. The aching isn't as rough as it was a year ago, but it is still very much there. I've been trying to bottle up the pain recently. I feel like I'm not giving Reagan what she deserves by still hurting so bad over Gabby and Ryan and thinking about what my 6 month old daughter or my 2 month old son should be doing and what they should look like. On the flipside I feel like I am somehow letting go of both of them by my excitement over Reagan's upcoming arrival. I know that both trains of thought are not helpful or "right", but they are real. I am very anxious for the next few weeks, daily praying that we can get to 37 weeks and that Reagan is healthy. It's hard because I don't trust my body. It failed Gabrielle and it failed Ryan. It failed me. It failed my husband. Many times I feel like a failure as a mother and as a wife.... my hormones and emotions have been all over the board. I don't complete the tasks that I'd like to and I don't have the patience most days that I want to have and that Mark and Colin deserve. I am so fearful of my body once again failing and it costing my daughter her life. It's enough to drive a person mad. And so, because I don't expect anyone to understand... to really understand... I just try my best to keep my deepest feelings and fears to myself. It's manifesting itself in my lack of energy and my lack of patience and I hate it. I hate being a baby loss mom. I hate that my babies were stolen from me. I hate that my son has to explain to people that although he's an "only child" he isn't really an only child. I don't even have words for it without sounding like a 2 year old having a temper tantrum. It just isn't fair. (see... I told you I'm a hormonal trainwreck)

I just want my baby girl to be okay. This roller coaster ride is taking everything out of me but somehow I keep finding more of myself to give. Part of being a mom, right?