The Not-So-Conclusive Diagnosis

A couple weeks after Kayden's delivery, we found ourselves in my OB's office. I had been there so many times in the previous months, the staff felt like family at this point. What I didn't know is that Kayden's karyotype analysis (genetic study) had come back and it showed an anomaly:

 More than likely: it's pretty easy to spot, right? Usually you have 23 pairs of chromosomes. Sometime those chromosomes don't translate correctly when the cells are dividing and you end up with one less chromosome or one extra. In downs syndrome for example, a child would be born with an extra chromosome #21, or "trisomy 21". Well, in case you didn't notice, this picture shows that Kayden had "trisomy 8". See the extra chromosome #8?

 

The pathology report above says that a trisomy of some sort is the most frequent cytogenetic abnormality contributing to pregnancy loss. What my doctor added was that, because so many of Kayden's cells were affected, it most likely meant that my egg had an extra cromosome #8 to begin with. (If it had been the sperm, it would have likely been a "slow swimmer" and wouldn't have made it to the egg first). 

Every documentation I could find showed that this type of trisomy 8, (which is a COMPLETE trisomy rather than a MOSAICISM) is "universally fatal"- meaning it's incompatible with life. I started wondering how on earth Kayden survived so long and grew perfectly on track. When he was born, he had no physical manifestation of a genetic disorder. PLUS: when Scotlin had this test done, the sample tissue was taken from his actual body, and Kayden's was taken from my placenta. It wasn't adding up, but my OB didn't know anything about it, so I had to wait to meet with the specialist. 

July 25th, I was SO GRATEFUL to meet Dr. Mark Grant in Columbia. I won't detail our whole conversation, but basically he had the same suspicion I had and decided to talk to a geneticist to confirm. So, there I was wondering if I have some crazy problem with my genes that's killing my babies and Dr. Grant rushes in to save the day telling me that he and the geneticist talked and decided that the most likely cause was:

NOT TRISOMY 8!

The only way to be sure would be to exhume Kayden's body and retest using a sample from his body. HOWEVER-they didn't think that was necessary and that because he made it to 27 weeks w/o any abnormalities and had a completely normal growth pattern, the trisomy was most likely confined to my placenta. I said, "Oh, that's a thing...that's possible?" And he said "Absolutely." 

So...for years we thought Scotlin died from some awful stroke of un-luck. Then I miscarried and they thought that was just another crappy thing that happened. But as soon as Kayden died, my doctors rushed in to tell me that they think all three of these losses are connected somehow and they put Dr. Grant on the case to figure out why. Yesterday, I had a bucket-load of blood drawn to HOPEFULLY find a cause. Now we play the waiting game for a couple weeks and hope to get that phone call. In this case, we're thinking that bad news is better than no news, because it means there's something detectable that can be fixed. 

Until then, we'll just live knowing that our boys are perfect and we're so darn lucky they chose to come to our family.

Kayden's Story

Wednesday June 13, 2012

      I had just gotten off the phone with Evan who was in Pennsylvania. He had been there all month for an internship and was expected to return on July 1st. I never thought those plans would change so instantly. Kayden wasn't kicking the bed like he usually did when I'd lie down, so I pulled out my doppler (the best present I ever received, thanks Crystal and Julie) and listened to his 140 beat per minute heart rate and fell asleep knowing he was just fine. 

Thursday June 14, 2012

      Morning came EARLY as I had to be at the hospital for clinical at 5:30. I was busy running around and all the while telling my patients that I was 27 weeks when they'd ask how far along I was. At 11:00  we were done for the morning and I went home to eat before returning to school for class at noon. I got there a little early and was talking to my friend, Crystal.
      Out of nowhere I felt empty, like something had just turned a light off. I remembered this feeling immediately because it was written on my heart. I told Crystal, "I don't think Kayden's moved in awhile". Jokingly, she rubbed my tummy and called to him, "Kayden, wake up!" I felt okay for a few minutes, but as we started class, I couldn't shake the feeling. I got up after a few minutes and walked out. I went straight to the back of the lab and laid on the bed. Tears came freely then, as I laid in the dark. My mind was reeling about what I had experienced moments before. "This cannot be happening again", I thought over and over. Those cries turned to sobs and, seeking comfort, I called Evan. I'm sure he was worried when I called him crying, almost unable to explain what was happening. "I just ate and Kayden's not moving. I drank a ton of water and he still won't move. Now I'm laying down, and, Evan, he just won't move."  He kept telling me to go home and check the heart rate with the doppler, but something inside me told me that was a bad idea. "What if I can't find it, Ev...I don't want to be alone." So, in all his wisdom, he told me to call my doctor. 
      Thankfully, Alisha (Dr. Lockwood's nurse and a dear friend) was available immediately. I was crying and explained my concern to her. She told me to go to the hospital and she would meet me there. She may never know how much that meant to me that I didn't have to be alone, but she saved me that day and I will always be grateful.I walked into my teacher's office, tear-streaked face and all, and explained to her what was going on. She arranged for Crystal to have my stuff brought home and I headed to the hospital, calling Evan and informing him of the plan. 
     I had already done 3 weeks of Maternity/Nursing clinical with the women on the 5th floor, so some of them recognized me. I had been having problems with pre-term labor since 23 weeks, so some of them had taken care of me as a patient already, too. My nurse, Sharon, got me into bed and immediately tried to find a heart rate via doppler. I told her where I usually find it and she was able to pick up something, but told the student nurse, Erin, to go get a pulse-ox. (They wanted to see what my heart rate was). Turns out that what they were picking up was not Kayden's, but my heartbeat and I cried. I screamed. I'm pretty sure I made a huge fuss. They told me not to worry, that the Dr. was coming to do an ultrasound. It didn't take too long for him to get there and by the time he did, Alisha got to me and was holding me. I repeated over and over, "I can't do this again, this can't be happening." 
     I called my mom at school and told her what was happening. She cried with me and I knew she was devastated. Her heart was breaking for me at the loss of my baby for the second time. I told her I had to call Evan, which I did. Gratefully, I was on the phone with him when they finally confirmed through 2 different ultrasounds that Kayden was indeed gone. We cried.


      SO many people were surrounding me and I could feel my boys in the room as well. I didn't once feel alone. Just during the ultrasound, there was Dr. Schneider; Alisha, Sharon, Cynthia, and Beth }all nurses; Erin, a nursing student; a med student (I forgot her name), and the ultrasound tech.The next hours were filled with tears and phone calls. It's all a blur, but I'm so grateful that my family and friends were so supportive and I felt the immediate lift from all the prayers being sent up for me. Evan, of course, jumped in the car and headed home. Bishop Wilson came to the hospital and gave me a blessing. In that moment I needed to hear, through the power of the priesthood, that my Heavenly Father was aware of me; that He knew my heart was broken, but that my Savior was close by to comfort me and help me through the heartache again. I'm so grateful for the power of the priesthood that I felt in that room. I'm grateful that my friend, Crystal, was there with me to feel of that spirit as well. 


    The phone call to my dear friend, Shanna, was one of the hardest. She had an almost-one-month-old at home and I knew she was going to take the news hard. We had been pregnant together for 5 months and already had plans of our babies growing up and getting married. :) But, like the good friend she is, she packed up and came right over. Lydee came too and we all cried together.  I held Lydee, realizing that the baby I would deliver soon would be a fraction of her size, and lifeless. I prayed that his body would be as perfect as his little spirit and that I would recognize him when he was delivered. Shanna and Lydee stayed the night (I didn't want to be alone and Shanna didn't want me to be alone). I took Ambien and it knocked me out, so I don't remember anything. But apparently I tried to convince Shanna that she could go home and leave Lydee with me. 

Friday June 15, 2012

    Doctor after doctor came into my room. My OB was out of town so every other OB took his place. They all gave their condolences and assured me that since this was our third fetal loss they would be sending me to a specialist and we would figure out the problem and get it fixed. I was grateful that something would finally be done and that they were considering the possibility that there was a detectable cause and a correlation between all three events. We decided to wait to induce my labor until Evan got there. It was a long drive and I knew he'd be tired. We called more family and I rested until Evan came at 2:00pm. It had been a full 24 hours since finding out about Kayden by the time Evan got there but it felt real all the sudden. I was grateful to see my husband after being away for 2 weeks, but I was so angry that it was under of these circumstances. We held each other and cried. We spent time just being together and taking it all in and just after 3:00 we moved over to the labor room. My mom and sister Julie got to the hospital around 7:00, I think, and  the tears came again. My labor was a process-pushing out a 27 week baby in a breech position is TERRIBLE and I'll leave it at that. 

June 16, 2012

It was almost 2:00am before Kayden was delivered. He was perfect in every way. His growth was on track my whole pregnancy and he weighed exactly what he should have weighed. He was 13.5 inches long.

Almost 2 lbs

     

He looked so small on that table. 

I loved holding my sweet little guy.

Every part of him was tiny, but perfect

The closest we'll get to a family portrait

His skin was very fragile, so we couldn't wipe the vernix off very well-that's why it looks a funny color.

L to R: Pamela, my fabulous delivery nurse who stayed 24 hours for me. Dr. Schneider the attending physician over my care, med student, and Dr. Erica Waddington who delivered Kayden. She was so fabulous and I'm so grateful to my medical staff that took such good care of me.

Grandma E. and Kayden.

Auntie Julie and Kayden

I love my boys! Notice Scotlin's in this picture too.

I LOVE MY MISSIONARIES!

June 23, 2012

     It was expensive and frustrating, but we were able to get Kayden to Utah so he could be buried with his brother. 

Some of our closest friends and family. We have felt so much love and support, not the least of which from the amazing people in this picture!

Autumn bought me some flowers so I could make an arrangement like I did for Scotlin. Also, Evan got a new tie and I got a new dress...it's sad when you have traditions for attending your son's funerals.

Our awesome parents

Bishop and Cathy Wilcock. aka. our Logan parents

The tripod. Our most cherished friends on the planet. They've gotten us through everything.

Evan and me with Brett Horsley. He was my OB in Logan and delivered Scotlin. We've become good friends over the years and he was kind enough to conduct the services we held for Kayden. I'm so glad he was able to come and share his spirit with us. He said the words that I most needed to hear to be at peace with the trials we've been asked to endure.

After Scotlin died in 2009, I told Heavenly Father that I could never go through this again. He probably just smiled and held me tight knowing that that was exactly what He had in store for me. I know that my boys are on the other side of the veil, teaching the gospel in the Spirit World. I know that they are perfect and that we will be reunited together as a family again. I'm so grateful that I was given the opportunity to carry such perfect spirits and give them the bodies they needed so they could move from one kingdom to the next without having to endure the hardships and sorrow of this world. They were too courageous and valiant to need to prove themselves on this Earth. Of course I am sad to not have them with me on earth, but I'm so grateful to be their mom and I know I'll see them again. 

I love you Scotlin and Kayden!

     

From an outside perspective.

Tonight, I was watching a show on Hulu. Not the most productive use of my time when I always complain about being busy, but ya know...I felt like being lazy. In this show (to remain unnamed), a waiting-for-her-baby-to-be-delivered mother breaks her arm, and during the exam, the Dr. realizes the baby has died. It doesn't say so immediately, but the mom asks if the baby is alright and the Dr. says, "yeah, baby's just sleeping" and leaves the room. It then shows the Dr. telling another Dr. that the baby has died. I cried. Not gushing tears, like I would've expected, but I cried. Mostly, I felt grateful that a TV show was portraying fetal death at all...it's usually so taboo.
    As the show progresses, there's another scene where the Dr. goes to tell the parents what's really happened. She knew, I'm sure of it...the mom probably knew the whole time, but she tells the Dr., "Say it...I won't believe it until you say it." The camera cuts back and the mom and dad start crying as they hold eachother and the Dr. stands there with her head in her hands. I cried again. I thought that would be the end of that part of the episode, but it wasn't.
    Toward the end, it shows the mom delivering her lifeless baby. The Dr. wraps the baby up and hands her to the mom. Mom takes the baby and holds it tight while her husband holds her and they cry together. I cried again (honestly, most people would).
    The point, you ask? All this time, I have only thought of Scotlin's death from my perspective. Even when my mom tells me about how hard it is to watch her daughter go through something like this. Even when my sisters write blog posts about what it was like to be there with me during my labor and holding my son. Those are real instances, so I don't know why watching a portrayal of it by some actors on TV touched me so much, but as I watched and cried, I realized that I've never given myself credit for this really hard thing I've gotten through. That's not to say I've done it alone, because I've had an amazing support system through it all. But, I made the decision to stay strong. I made the decision to turn to Heavenly Father. I decided to keep going to church and work and school. Like I said, I didn't do these things alone. But even with all the people encouraging me, I could have just said no and stayed in bed for years, never showered, quit my job, ruined my marriage, stayed depressed, and gotten fat (or sickly skinny-one of the two).
   I always told my sisters that I hated it when people told me I was "so strong" because they only saw me then I was at work or church or school and I was dressed with make-up on and going about my days. I just didn't want to hear that I was strong because of all the secret, and often sacred, times when I was sobbing uncontrollably in the corner with matted hair, running make-up, blotchy face and puffy eyes whild I screamed outloud, and eventually prayed to my Father in Heaven that he would just send my son back, or that He would just take all the hurting and aching away. You didn't see me then, and I felt guilty to be called strong when I had such low moments.
  But today, after a stupid show opened my eyes a little more, I actually feel strong. I feel like I've accomplished (rather, am accomplishing) something really important and difficult. Thank you for encouraging me. For telling me I'm strong, even after all those times I asked you not to!

When Boredom is a Blessing

At many times in my life, I've been so busy for days, weeks, or months on end that when you get some time to relax and not worry about the next shift at work or test/assignment due you feel lazy and you have to keep moving.

Today is not one of those days.  I slept in til 10 and have been sitting here in bed for almost 2 hours (although I did get up and shower) and I don't feel anything but relief to be able to catch my breath and not have anything to do for just one day.

I can't believe school is halfway over. It's been an interesting 5 1/2 months. I am honestly happy that I've had something to do everyday while Evan's been at school and studying, because it's nice having a break from working. But at the same time, I'm excited to be done with school for a little while considering I've only had one semester off in the last 17 years.

I think I'm just gonna take this day for myself. I might take a bath or take a walk. Maybe I'll make some jewelry or do something crafty that I haven't had time to do in awhile. Maybe I'll do all of those things. It's hard to choose!!

Getting Over The Hills

My sisters are both excellent writers and I love reading their blogs. The other day my sister wrote a post that linked back to THIS post about a year ago which seems fitting for me to blog about today. After a couple posts in a row about how terrible my life is, I thought it's probably time for me to find some perspective. This is the picture Julie blogged about that I wanted to share:

My mind seems to believe that God can only give me so many trials before He pours out the blessings. As nice as that would be...it just doesn't work like that. Heavenly Father gives us trials for us to learn and grow. While we're enduring them, it's really hard to see the big picture. Once we get to the top of our hill, we may see a beautiful view and think "Wow, that was totally worth it!" or, like in my case lately, we may see nothing but more and more hills up ahead. One benefit is that when we see those hills, we can look behind us and think, "Well, I just made it up that one...bring it on!" 

The most redeeming quality about these hills and the journey we're all on is that we're not ever alone. We have each other, and we have our Savior who has experienced the good and bad feelings of everything we have gone through or will go through. If, while we're struggling up our hills, we can remember to pray and to think about the view waiting for us at the top, we will endure well and we will be blessed! Happy December everyone!

Much Love

Just Keep Swimming

The past few weeks have been hard. Bearable, of course, and we've even seen the blessings from the trials, but oh my heavens, we're taking a beating down here! Sometimes, I just want to throw my hands up and be done; tell the Lord, "sorry, but I just can't do this anymore!"

For example:

On the way to the Kansas City airport on Nov. 19 (where we would fly to Utah for my brother-in-law's wedding)...

...a suicidal deer decided to wreck our car...

...neither Evan nor I were hurt...

...and thanks to a different flight, President Coleman from the Chillicothe branch who woke up at 4am to take us to the airport, and a  lot of prayers on our behalf...

...we still made it to the wedding on time (with no time to spare...we literally walked into the temple at 1:28 for a 1:30 ceremony)  See:

The happily married couple! Congrats, you two

!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For some reason, Evan and I are being tested. I'm not sure why. Ever have one of those days where you feel like saying, "How can this possibly get any worse", but you DON'T, because you know as soon as you say that, something else will go wrong. Well, that's how I've felt for the past month. Only problem is...I DID say it. Someone up there has got an awesome sense of humor, because after we dealt with insurance and figured out a rental car, we came back to Kirksville and the plumbing was JACKED. UP. The washer wasn't draining, the toilet was overflowing, the the basement was flooding. SERIOUSLY!!!!!!!!????      

Evan moved the utility sink away from the wall and revealed the drain...the source of the flooding. Totally disgusting!

You can't tell by these pictures, but there's a trough around the whole basement that's full of water too, as well as the shower that's in the other room in the basement that's flooded as well.

I'm blessed to have good friends, especially my friend Katie, the author of the blog, "Just Keep Swimming" who understand days like these and blog about the overwhelming feeling so that I can see that I'm totally normal...God tests us all. He can't give us the easy way out, but He can throw us a life jacket that helps make it easier. This is all gonna blow over and everything's gonna be fine!

Much Love

Right?

I can feel really, truly happy for my friends that are pregnant but at the same time be sad that I'm not, right? Well, for any of my friends that read this and either have babies, or are going to soon have babies, please don't think that I have any bad feelings toward you because of this post, because I definitely don't.

I just really really want to be pregnant and have wanted to be for years now. Yes, years, as in multiple. (I know that some who may read this can never get pregnant or never were able to get pregnant, and I'm not comparing my trials to yours...I'm just having kind of a rough day.) I think that for my personal trial, the fact that my son died suddenly, unexplained just before his due date makes not having a baby just a little more difficult than I thought it would be. Honestly, 2 years ago I was so certain that once we waited the 3 months we were told to wait, we would get pregnant right away because Heavenly Father wouldn't want me to keep hurting this bad, and getting pregnant again was the only thing that would help. And oh my, was I wrong. I can't say why I didn't get pregnant for a year and a half. Maybe it was the depression, maybe it was because I only weighed 102 lbs, or maybe it was my crazy 5p-5a full-time work schedule. All I know is that month after month was torture every time I started my period or didn't start my period til day 40 but kept getting negative pregnancy tests. And then we went on vacation.

Just before we moved and after we quit our jobs, we went on a week and a half trip to visit family. The day we were coming home, I realized that I had been feeling really icky for a few days, but it was only in the afternoons and would go away while I slept at night. I suddenly got really hopeful as I discussed my symptoms with Evan. He wanted me to wait, but I just couldn't...I had to get a pregnancy test. Of course it was positive! I knew it was even before I took the test. Steph knew because she went with me to get the test. The next day-back in Utah- I told my parents. I hadn't planned on telling anyone else, but my mom cried as soon as I walked in the door because she knew it was going to be the last time she saw me for awhile, so I figured telling would ease the pain a bit because I knew she'd be so happy.

My mom went on trek that week with the stake, so I wasn't able to call her on Monday when I started bleeding. It was just spotting, and that was normal, right? I wanted to call my sister and ask, but I still didn't want to tell anyone. I looked it up online and that was NO help.

Wednesday: My Birthday: The day we packed the moving truck to move- I miscarried. I had only just found out I was pregnant-5 1/2 weeks. Why did it hurt so bad? Granted, it didn't feel like a knife in my chest like when Scotlin died...but....we had waited so long and finally caught a break. Now this.

So this whole story is probably irrelevant, but I kind of just wanted to put it out there. No one in my day to day interactions knows about this. Most of them don't even know I'm a mother. It hurts. It's hard to be left out of the "mom chatter" because my son isn't running around and playing with the other kids at playgroup. I'm not pregnant (which I swear everything around here revolves around), so I'm kind of just an outcast. And the worst part is: I can't do a single thing about it. I don't really have anything else to say, but I'm gonna post this anyway just so my blogger buddies can see my human side. If you choose to comment, please don't say anything mean, or downplay my feelings...it doesn't help.

(I'm also not proofreading...sorry)