Who Knew?

Wyatt was my first pregnancy so everything was brand new. I had never experienced the kick of a baby within my belly or watched that belly grow plumper each passing day and week. I had also never been so excited to be having an experience, even one that brought me to my knees in the bathroom each morning. It was nothing short of amazing. I had also not purchased anything, not one thing, prior to our first ultrasound at 19 weeks. After Wyatt's Potter's diagnosis I understood that it was because I knew something was amiss. Somewhere in my subconscious I knew.

I knew with Eli too. Early on in his pregnancy my husband purchased a new infant car seat as our original was now outdated and we wanted this new little one to be a safe as possible. He asked my opinion and I just remember not wanting to pick one out. I felt that we should not get one yet. I also remember feeling that Eli's movements early on were different. I didn't feel him move as soon as I had with the girls and his movements did not seem as regular or as strong. To some extent this had happened with our youngest daughter and that was due to the placement of my placenta so I chalked these observations up to the same reason. I will never forget the day before Eli's ultrasound. My husband and I were walking with the girls that night and we were behind them hand in hand. I remember telling him that I was a bit concerned about the ultrasound, that I felt there was something wrong. I knew. I anticipated a problem with the placement of my placenta though. It never even occurred to me that in less than twenty-four hours I would received another Potter's diagnosis.

This got me to thinking. Has anyone else "known" that something was wrong or had a feeling that something would go wrong with their baby while pregnant? Or is it just me?

To Pray or Not to Pray

Early in my pregnancy with Eli (honestly probably before I even got pregnant) I remember praying, chanting almost, for a healthy baby. It was my one and only request. I have always prayed for a healthy baby but it felt especially important with Eli. He would be my fifth and what I believed to be my last c-section. Also, to be honest, he was to be my last child. I felt it in my heart and my body. Five pregnancies was enough for me. Five pregnancies in nine years of marriage, five c-sections. I was ready to be done. I was so sure of it. And then I became very sure of something else. Before I ever laid eyes on the ultrasound screen, before I saw that awful grayness where there should be beautiful black amniotic fluid surrounding the baby, before my doctor had to deliver those words to me for the second time. I knew something was wrong. I just never imagined how wrong it would be. I believed that Potter's could not happen to us again, that it was what it had been called, a fluke. But it wasn't.

So now I struggle. I prayed so very hard for just a healthy baby with Eli, just healthy. What should I pray for now? To have a baby with kidneys? Do I need to be that specific in my request? Or is it just a waste of time, effort and emotion? Clearly prayers cannot save my children. Been there, done that, didn't work. Prayer didn't save Wyatt and it didn't save Eli and I had people of all denominations and locations praying for those sweet little babies. I've learned to adjust prayers. When Eli's Potter's was diagnosed I just began praying for him to grow and be born alive. He did, but was that because I prayed? I don't know. I'm really lost here. Prayer has never felt more useless to me. Probably because the things I usually pray for are spiritual and emotional in nature and cannot be measured or quantified so I never know if they are answered. This was a huge letdown. I still go to church. I still believe. I still pray. But it still bothers me.

To pray or not to pray?

Hearing the News a Second Time

I picked my husband up from work and we drove the rest of the way to the appointment together.  I asked him what he thought about the ultrasound and again told him that I thought something was really wrong.  I explained how I didn't see amniotic fluid, kidneys or bladder and that I had compared these pictures with the other children's.  He lied to me and told me he thought everything was fine.  Usually when my husband tells me everything will be fine I have one of two reactions: anger at his minimizing the situation or I find it comforting and allow myself to let go of whatever is distressing me.  This time it was like I barely heard his words.  All I could do was pray that everything was okay over and over.  I know why he lied and he knows that I know, that's all that matters.

I knew from the minute my doctor walked into the room that the news was not good.  It was written all over her face.  She said that the radiology report was nearly identical with Wyatt's.  No amniotic fluid, no kidneys, no bladder.  The only difference was the absence of the sacs they had seen on Wyatt's spine.  This baby was perfectly normal, minus those important little organs.  The baby even measured right on track at 19 weeks.  My doctor was very caring as she again explained our options and the increased risks involved with each option for me this time considering my prior history of four c-sections.  Because of the time I already had to process the news one of my biggest concerns was preserving my uterus as much as possible so that I could try to have another baby.  There was no question that our decision would be to carry this baby to term just as we had done with Wyatt and she anticipated as much.

I cannot say enough kind things about the compassion that my doctor has showed me throughout this whole journey, and that day was no exception.  She hugged me and cried alongside me as I sobbed for the baby, myself, my husband and our family.  This was the first blow of many.  Now we would have to again tell our family and friends and perhaps most importantly, our children.  That was the most difficult part for me.  I could process this news, I had been down this path before, I knew what to do and when to do it.  Knowledge empowered me.  But it left me speechless when I contemplated what to do with our children at home.

We decided to tell them that evening.  Mommy & Daddy explained that the baby in Mommy's tummy was missing some parts and would die, most likely after it was born.  We explained that Mommy was okay and that baby was okay for now and that hopefully we would get to watch him/her grow bigger and stronger in Mommy's tummy.  But that when the baby was born it would not get to come home with us.  Mommy & Daddy are sad and will be sad for a long time and that it's okay for them to be sad too and for them to talk with us about how they feel.  Our oldest, about 6 1/2, really understood.  She said she felt very sad for the baby and desperately wants Mommy to have another baby.  It's heartbreaking to feel this loss from her perspective.  We felt it was necessary for them to have the knowledge that Mommy isn't going to be normal Mommy sometimes, that she may cry, she may get angry for no reason and that I may have to go to the hospital earlier than planned.

That evening it occurred to me that I had again not purchased one item for this baby.  My husband bought a new carseat but I hadn't wanted to purchase one yet and really wasn't too interested.  It was like I knew that we wouldn't need it again.

The Second Leg of my Journey

One more child.  It was a much desired and planned pregnancy.  My first trimester was relatively mild, but any drain on my energy and even a mild sickness is amplified when I'm caring for three children under the age of seven!  I determined that this would indeed be our last child.  I no longer had the desire to be pregnant or to go through another c-section.  It seemed so simple.

As I entered the second trimester I was so eager to feel my baby move.  I had felt the girls all move very early, between 13-15 weeks, and I just couldn't wait to feel this little one.  I know I commented more than once about not feeling those kicks.  I surmised that my placenta was probably in the way and blocking them.  I knew the baby was okay because I had been listening to it daily with a fetal doppler (we've done so with each pregnancy since Wyatt). Finally, I started feeling little movements here and there and they were mostly reassuring that things were okay.

However, as we approached the 19 week ultrasound I became very uneasy.  The lack of regular strong kicks, feeling not very big for my 5th pregnancy and just intuition I guess left me uncomfortable.  I also was struggling with not "connecting" with this baby and could not understand why.  I clearly remember taking a walk with my husband and girls the night before our ultrasound, just 5 weeks ago.  I told my husband that I had a bad feeling, that something was wrong with the baby or the pregnancy but I didn't know what it was.  My best guess and fear at the time was placenta previa.  Perhaps my subconscious prevented me from connecting the dots or my memories had faded enough to spare me the pain.

We decided to take our youngest two to the ultrasound early the next morning.  I was so excited for them to see their baby sister or brother.  However, I began worrying right away when they started.  The screen was annoyingly turned away from me so I couldn't see.  But when they turned it toward me things just didn't look right.  Of course, neither of the techs said anything about low amniotic fluid, missing bladder or kidneys.  But, this was my fifth ultrasound and I knew by now what I was looking for and that I did not see those things.  The baby was beautiful and bashful, so we were unable to find out the gender.  I hadn't wanted to know, but my husband did and we had planned on him finding out.  The baby just wasn't moving much and had its precious little privates well concealed that day.

I took the ultrasound photos and my two girls home.  Despite an urgent need to empty my bladder I tore open each of our children's baby books and frantically dug out ultrasound photos.  I knew in a second that this baby had Potter's Syndrome too.  The lack of fluid was unmistakable.  It's literally the difference between grey and black.  I sat at our dining room table and burst into uncontrollable sobs for the little life in my belly and for our family and what we would lose again.  There was so much more to process this time, this time we knew all about Potter's, we knew how the pregnancy would likely go and how it would likely end but now I had three innocent children who I could not protect from the pain of losing this child.  When my mascara  was gone I went to the bathroom and cleaned up without saying a word.

Later that afternoon when my mother-in-law came to watch our girls while we met with my OB/GYN, I said nothing when she asked how it went.  I showed her the ultrasound pictures as happily as I could, got in the car and prepared to hear some of the most awful words any person could ever utter, that my child would die, again.