Sawyer’s
Story
Disclaimer from Nicole: This could be a trigger for some, so read with caution.
A
story of loss, medical termination and the laws that do not favor a woman’s
well-being in difficult situations.
I should start my story by saying that
I am fortunate enough to have had one very healthy pregnancy and a very active
four-year-old son, Emmett. I thought
that when my husband and I were ready to try for another baby in 2012 that
there would be no problems getting pregnant.
And there were no problems—we got pregnant quickly. After 6 weeks, we found out that that baby
had no heartbeat. By 10 weeks, we had a
“natural” miscarriage (not assisted by any type of medical intervention;
letting the body pass the fetus on its on), which was uncomfortable in
itself. I took some time off of work and
still ended up passing the baby in the bathroom at my office. Not an ideal situation.
My husband and I believe it was just
bad luck and started trying for another baby again a few months later and
again, quickly got pregnant, for which we were both thankful for. This pregnancy lasted a few weeks (8) and
again, we found no heartbeat. Because of
the length of time it took for Baby #1 to pass previously, we elected to have a
D&C (medical abortion) in order to help us move forward and heal. The procedure was quick but this time, I did
not recover well at all. I was still
having painful contractions a few days later and passing large clots. My regular OB was out of the office for
Hanukkah, so I saw her practice partner on the 5th day, when I called
in, concerned something wasn’t right.
She immediately sent me for a 3D ultrasound and we quickly found out
that there was still fetal tissue remaining in my uterus, which my body was
trying to deliver. Since I was no longer
dilated (they dilate you for the D&C and eventually your cervix closes up),
it was extremely painful and nearly impossible.
Another D&C was scheduled for the following day as we were leaving 2
days later to travel from Florida to Ohio for Christmas. (I should also note that only our parents
knew of this pregnancy; we couldn’t cancel the trip without “outing ourselves”
which we weren’t prepared for).
Recovery for the second surgery went
well and we discovered during my follow-up in January that I had a partial
molar pregnancy. The Cleveland Clinic’s
website defines a partial molar pregnancy as “A partial molar pregnancy is a variation
of a molar pregnancy, an
abnormal pregnancy in which an
embryo (the fertilized egg) either develops incompletely, or doesn't develop at
all. Instead, a cluster of grape-like cysts (known as a hydatidiform mole)
grows in the uterus.”
It was a few weeks after this point
where I broke down and confided to my close group of friends that I was feeling
depressed. With their help and
encouragement, I spoke to my husband and made an appointment with my OB for the
following day. She started me on Prozac
for PPD and eventually, things started to get better.
In the next few months, two more
pregnancies followed and ended – one chemical and one missed miscarriage. My husband and I decided to hold off on
trying again to give both of us time to heal.
We began trying again in May of 2014
and were optimistic when I got a positive test in July 2014. My EDD was St. Patrick’s Day (3/17/15). I moved through the pregnancy cautiously, not
wanted to be let down yet again. I had
weekly ultrasounds and everything was progressing normally (for once!). I had a lot of morning sickness and I was
never so thankful to be throwing up (probably the only time in my life I’d say
something like that). Still, I had a
hard time accepting that nothing horrible would happen. At my 18 week appointment, after a routine
heartbeat check (perfect!), my OB even told me “Nicole, it’s okay to
relax. You’re 18 weeks! You’re safe”.
That was Friday afternoon. By
Monday morning, everything changed.
Sunday evening, while sitting on the
couch relaxing, my right arm started throbbing.
After I Googled (because, that’s what you do!), I quickly turned to my
49 best internet friends and asked their advice because I determined I had a
blood clot. They said that I had no
symptoms other than the throbbing (no redness, swelling, hot to touch), but to
head to the ER to check. For once, my
Googling symptoms turned out to be a blessing I ended up having a blood
clot. I was put on Lovenox (blood
thinners) and sent to my OB’s for a follow up the next day.
We went in for the ultrasound and
discovered that our baby boy’s amniotic fluid was not at a normal level. We were rushed upstairs to the specialist
that told us to rest and drink plenty of fluids and that we would recheck at 20
weeks. Rest. That was impossible. It was that night I had my first panic
attack. Of course, I didn’t know what a
panic attack was, and since some of the symptoms of a Pulmonary Embolism (clot
in lungs) were shortness of breath, dizziness, vomiting, rapid heart rate,
etc. we immediately called an ambulance
and back to the ER I went.
For the next 2 weeks, I spent every
other day at my OB’s getting ultrasounds and watching Sawyer’s fluid get lower
and lower. I was having 10+ panic
attacks a day. I was depressed. I would not eat and was only drinking because
it was my only hope his fluid would come up.
I could not get any kind of anxiety medicine because I was still
pregnant, so with my OB’s blessing, Benedryl became my best friend.
At my 20 week ultrasound, we saw our
sweet little one bouncing around and putting his little feet up for the Doppler. We giggled and were smiling and hopeful…until
the doctor came in. Sawyer’s fluid was
getting lower and lower and he only had one kidney, which was malformed.
We could not even process something
that we had expected was happening for the past 2 weeks. We were told we had very little options when
it came to Sawyer and my own health. I
had a previous c-section with Emmett, so it was not an option. They wouldn’t induce me because of my
clotting disorder and the possibility of hemmoraghing. And to top it off, they wouldn’t do anything
for me medically, until Sawyer died in utero.
Which could go until 40 weeks.
40 weeks of mental pain, anguish and
tears. 40 weeks of heartache and waiting
and praying for your child to die so that you can move on. 40 weeks of feeling your baby kick and grow,
while you are growing, only to know you will have to say goodbye immediately. It broke me.
I couldn’t do it.
The laws in the state of Florida, as
well as many other states, do not account for a woman’s mental well-being when it comes to pregnancy termination. There are NO choices for women when it comes
to these situations, where you know your baby has a zero chance of survival,
but you can’t move forward until they legally die.
My doctor recommended a specialist
out of my county that practiced compassionate care and would terminate my
pregnancy in a private office setting.
To put it simply, he would perform a late term abortion (D&E) for me
at 23 weeks. This was the option my
husband and I chose. It’s one I struggle
with to this day and one that lead me to a nervous breakdown and a night in the
psych ward a few weeks ago. The
guilt. The stigma. Everything that comes along with that
decision.
The procedure was to be done over two
days, as I was late into my pregnancy. I
first went down on Thursday afternoon, where I met with the counselors, had an
ultrasound, met with the doctor (who was wonderfully and VERY highly regarded
in the medical field) and signed my son’s life away. I was taken back to a room (my husband had to
wait in another area) and they inserted about 10 laminaria sticks into my
cervix (which was extremely painful) and sent me on my way to get a pain
prescription and to get some rest for the evening.
Rest.
It didn’t happen. Instead, I took
a few Xanax (which thankfully my wonderful OB prescribed after we decided on
the decision), and had 5 panic attacks.
I spent the night lying on the bathroom floor, dry heaving and sobbing,
feeling my baby kick like crazy. In my
mind, in those moments, he knew that I was killing him and he was saying
“Mommy, mommy! I’m in here! Feel me; I’m moving and I’m alive”. Today, I can say that I know this was not the
case. Three weeks ago? I would still have told you that’s what he
was thinking.
The next day and procedure took
forever. I had to let misoprostol (2)
dissolve which took about an hour. Those
(along with the laminaria, were to dialate me and start labor. I started getting contractions and was taken
back to the recovery room, where I spent some time with other women who were
there for elective procedures. I sobbed
and hyperventilated through those contractions, knowing that there was no
turning back and there hadn’t been since the afternoon before.
Eventually I was wheeled into the
surgery room and was put out for the procedure.
Kind of. I woke up as they were
removing him from my body and screamed louder than I ever have in my entire
life. It was so painful, both physically
and mentally. Immediately, I was put
back to sleep again. I woke up in
recovery, empty, both physically and mentally.
We headed home and I stayed there for
3 weeks. I ate an orange and a piece of
bread every day. I went to the hospital
constantly for every twinge that could be related to my blood clotting disorder
(which is what they believe caused all of my previous miscarriages). I spent so much time in the ER and on
medications that by February, my $2000+ per month Lovenox (thankfully, a $150
co-pay) were covered and free because I met all of my deductibles.
I tried to move on. I put on a false smile and braved the real
world again. But inside, I was
withdrawing and slowly getting worse.
They upped my anti-depressants and subbed Klonopin for the Xanax. I saw a psychiatrist regularly. I was present
for things but I wasn’t there.
I had a nervous breakdown 4 weeks ago
that landed me in the psych ward. It
was, seriously like Girl Interrupted.
The nurses came into our room every 10 minutes at night for checks. One girl paced the hall constantly. There were privileges that you could
earn. I wanted out immediately.
When I was released 24 hours later, I
knew I needed to make some changes. We
had a lot going on in our personal lives.
My brother was getting married, we just bought a house and were planning
on moving and my son was winding down from his first year of school. After much discussion, my husband and I
decided that I would go on medical leave from work and attend a partial
hospitalization program at the same hospital I was admitted to a week before. The program is Monday – Friday, 8:30 – 2:30
and included time with therapists, group therapy and visits with a
psychiatrist. I am happy to say that I
am graduating from that program tomorrow and this is the reason for me writing
this post. I have accepted Sawyer’s
death and the choices we made for him and his well-being. I feel alive again. I can be happy and play soccer with my son in
the yard, or joke around with my husband.
I am healing. Finally.
One of the most difficult things for
me on my journey is that there were NO support groups for situations like
mine. For a baby that my husband and I
desperately wanted that had defects?
Those existed. Abortion support
groups? Miscarriage support? Those all are readily available. What are not available are safe places for
women (and men) to talk about their medical terminations due to heartbreaking
issues, their stillbirths, their miscarriages.
So I made one. If you or anyone
else you know has been in a situation like this, please come and join us. For venting, for support, for grief, for
help. Pass along the link to those you
think might need it. Email me privately
if you just want to talk to as questions.
But please, don’t keep it inside and please don’t wait until you have a
nervous breakdown or even worse because you don’t grieve your sweet child
properly. I am here for you. I promise.
Email Nicole:
coley7788@gmail.com
The link to her online support group:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/822368047860645
**I (Know It All) am adding this link I just happened upon about why someone would need an abortion at twenty weeks: http://thinkprogress.org/health/2015/02/03/3618460/20-week-abortion-stories/
**I (Know It All) am adding this link I just happened upon about why someone would need an abortion at twenty weeks: http://thinkprogress.org/health/2015/02/03/3618460/20-week-abortion-stories/
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