Tuesday, October 02, 2007

Easy for him to say...

I blocked the whole idea of going back to the clinic to talk to my OB about what the hell happened and where to go from here out of my head, until I couldn't make the little voice inside my head stop screaming at me to just get it over with.

"Go in", it told me, "find out exactly how broken you are and how ridiculous it is to even consider thinking about trying again, let alone actually doing it."

So in we went.

But first, two weeks of stress dreams and nightmares that had my jaw in a permanent state of clench.

Thank God for an OB with compassion - or at least the good sense to fake it. He was very good to us, two weary travelers with worry lines etched into our tired faces and a lot more gray hair than we had when we started this process a thousand years ago.

One of the first thing he said was how horrendous these past few years must have been for us.

"You must have had some very dark days", he said softly.

"No kidding", I wanted to reply, but didn't.

Then we asked a million questions while he looked pained and admitted he didn't know - and couldn't know - the answer to most of them (you know, ones like "what are the odds of my dying if we try this again - and fail?").

He doesn't know why I bled. He doesn't believe he perforated my uterus during the D&C so his only explanation is that one or both of the placentas were very deeply embedded and the bleeding originated from the site where they came away from the uterine wall during the procedure.

He doesn't know if this could happen again, although he suspects it was a fluke (kind of like that pesky fluke-y abruption that killed Thomas and nearly me) and most likely won't happen again.

He doesn't think I have a luteal phase defect (and was reluctant to subject me to testing because the results tend to be somewhat inconclusive) but will treat me as though I do if I ever get pregnant again, just in case.

He doesn't think I have a clotting disorder, but ordered a ton of blood work just in case.

In place of concrete answers and assurances, there were a lot of "I don't knows" and "just in cases" - which is exactly what we were expecting.

People like to think that doctors have all the answers - that they can and should be able to stop babies from dying and miscarriages from happening. But the truth is they can't. Not all the time. And in my case, never.

We knew there would be a lot of shoulder shrugging and unanswered questions. We're used to that. Too used to that.

But still, it was good. It was good to talk to someone who cared, who understood our concerns, who sympathized with the fear and frustration we're feeling, who tried so hard to tell us everything we needed to hear, and who seems to want us to have a take-home baby almost as much as we do.

And in the end, even though we haven't made any decisions one way or another, it was good to hear that even though he's not sure why our little tigers didn't make it or why I bled like a stuck pig during the D&C, he doesn't think there's any reason for us not to consider trying again.

Easy for him to say.

10 comments:

The Nanny said...

I hate that there are no easy answers. Or conclusive ones. Thinking of you and wishing you luck...

Julia said...

I am so glad you have such a compassionate and thoughtful doctor. He sounds like a doctor you would want if or when you decide to jump again.
I have a doctor like that, and it makes me feel positive about that part at least-- knowing that someone I trust, someone I believe would be very vigilant will be in charge of my care.
I am thinking of you, and I wish so much for a take home baby for you.

Erin said...

I'm sorry you're having to deal with any of this. Thinking of you.

Aurelia said...

I'm sorry this is so so crappy, but I'm glad you are getting the tests.

Regardless of what they find---please take heparin and aspirin anyway. Start taking DHEA and maybe you can skip the clomid.

Your Doctor sounds nice and kind, which is great, cause heck, a lousy OB can really make your life hard.

I'll be thinking of you and me and our horrible misfiring uteri while you try again.

rob said...

Its funny how often doctors come up with "we don't know" and "just in case."

It could just be horribly coincidental that things happened the way they have in the past. I suppose that is the nature of our lives - bad things can just happen for no reason, even if we don't deserve them.

Keep trying.

You'll probably look back in 10 years, and it'll all seem worth it.

niobe said...

Far too often, the answer to any question is "we don't know." I know that during my consultations those are three words I heard far too often.

Catherine said...

I will leave the "all worth it" comment alone...but I do agree with Rob. It all could just be a horrible horrible coincidence. I know you think it would be an easier decision with answers, but consider this...I have "answers" for myself...and what did they tell me? That it was all horrible horrible coincidence (or "very bad luck" as our u/s tech said). Remember that sometimes answers aren't answers at all.

Yeah, it's easy for the doc to say, "I don't know why this happened...but you have no reason not to consider trying again." And without any concrete idea of what went wrong, it seems very scary. But if you're focused on what he didn't say...remember that he also didn't say, "No way, I wouldn't try again, the odds are too high against you." That's something, isn't it?

meg said...

I'll be having this same conversation in a couple of weeks, but I think I might be at the "don't do this again" stage. I know it's hard to be where you are--the "no answers" part. Do everything that Aurelia suggested and if you feel you should have a test done, make them do it.

Megan said...

My diagnosis is "unlucky", too, after a stillbirth and a miscarriage.
I guess it's silly to expect a doctor to take one look at me and pronounce me either "cursed" or "future happiness possible."

kari said...

I'm so sorry you've had to go through so much. I hope that you do get pregnant again. And when you do, ask for progesterone and theraputic Lovenox. I had three miscarriages and the unexplained stillbirth of my daughter at 38 weeks. I had tests for everything, including clotting disorders. After my daughter's death and more tests, it turns out I have a rare clotting disorder they don't usually test for. I truly believe the theraputic Lovenox he put me on when I got pregnant again is the only reason I have a live baby right now. One outta five.