I know it’s been a little while since I’ve posted.
It has now been 1 month since we received our third round of devastating news and honestly, my life just isn’t the same. This loss seemingly has hit me harder than the rest. Or maybe it just feels that way because the grief has now multiplied by three.
I’m absolutely devastated, but a part of me expected this to happen. Yes, I’m aware that sounds incredibly morbid, but when ALL YOU KNOW about pregnancy ends in loss, your brain just assumes. As much as I wished and prayed for a positive outcome this time, I was not shocked when it wasn’t.
Some days I feel like I’m just going through the motions because life must go on, and I can temporarily forget. Other days, I am stuck in a vicious time warp where I keep getting pregnant and I keep losing the baby.
We’ve been trying to be somewhat social, just to keep busy, but I’m finding it very, very hard for me. I had some degree of social anxiety before all of this began, but now it’s amplified. We went out with friends this past weekend for St. Patrick’s Day, and I ended up drinking myself into oblivion, and uncontrollably sobbing the latter half of the night.
Test Results
Like I mentioned in this post, we opted to have chromosomal testing done again on our baby’s remains. We found out that Baby #3 had Trisomy 9 (an extra 9th chromosome) and was another boy. Two angel sons.
Our Baby #2 resulted in Trisomy 16, and the doctors were concerned that if it was Trisomy 16 again, Justin & I could have a chromosomal translocation. Turns out, we got the “best” news, that it was a different chromosome. Another completely random loss, a chromosomal error that occurred at conception.
My OB did not think we have a translocation, given the baby’s chromosome results, but offered that Justin & I could get genetic testing done on us, for peace of mind. We agreed, and immediately after that appointment, we went across the hall to have blood samples collected from each of us. HOLY EXPENSIVE, but for my own sanity, it felt worth it.
After an anxious two weeks, the OB called with our results, stating that we are both “completely, completely normal,” in her words.
I guess ultimately we have the best possible results from every angle, but I still find it hard to feel happy and optimistic the way I once did.
As a friend told me, even the good news doesn’t feel good because it’s resulting from bad news, and it really can’t be explained any better than that. I’m slowly realizing that I have a ton of built-up grief (and anger!) that I haven’t fully dealt with yet.
Readers, I ask for your prayers and your patience, as my husband & I walk through another very tough stage of our life, and hopefully work up the courage to try again.
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