Hurry up and Wait.

We just had our appointment at the high risk doctor / perinatologist and I can't stop crying.

My OB had given us the go ahead to start trying to conceive again in January, but the perinatologist told us we needed to wait 6 months - 1 year minimum to minimize our chances of another loss.  I had an uncomplicated vaginal delivery and our son weighed 4lb. 14oz.  The perinatologist also said that now since I have had one stillborn child, the chances of me having another are between 2x and 10x the normal population, even though there isn't a known reason for his death.  She also said that even though I had such tight control over my diabetes, that just the fact that I am diabetic increases those odds and the odds for other problems (pre-eclampsia, pre-term labor, etc.).

The autopsy results still have not come back yet, but preliminary results are not showing that there was anything wrong with him or me, the placenta, or the cord. All my blood clotting results came back normal, and I did not have any exposure to CMV or parvovirus or other viruses that they tested for.  I did have a slightly elevated ANA titer (1:320) and will be seeing a rheumatologist.  I had the same elevated titer 2 years ago as well and saw a rheumatologist, but they didn't find any indication of autoimmune disease.   I had pre-existing diabetes (insulin dependent), but my A1C was perfect throughout my pregnancy - between 4.9 and 5.4, and they do not think that had anything to do with our loss. She also talked about switching the Cymbalta that I have been taking for 6+ years (through both my daughter's pregancy 5 years ago and my angel's pregnancy) and switching me to something like Zoloft that has more research behind it - just to minimize the risks of complications by another percentage point or two. 

I am just so sad, I had my heart set on us trying again in January and was thinking that since I took such excellent care of myself during pregnancy that my chances of having a recurrence were minimal.  I was just hoping for better news.   I feel so defeated.

 

Time.

One thing I have learned the past few weeks is life around you continues, whether you choose to be present for it or not.  For me, time has stood still from the moment I saw my baby's still heart on the ultrasound machine.  I've lost all concept of time.  Even days and nights are sometimes interchangeable.  There is a clear divide in my life now - before Nicolai and after Nicolai.

It's been 3 weeks and 6 days since I last felt him kicking in my belly.  3 weeks and 4 days since he was born.  3 weeks and 3 days since I left the hospital and saw him for the very last time.  2 weeks and 3 days since his memorial service.   1 week and 2 days since I stopped bleeding.

The minutes seem like hours seem like days seem like months.  Time passes so slowly now.  I make it an hour at a time.  Each click of the minute hand on the clock is a small accomplishment that I have made it through yet another minute of post-Nicolai life.   

It's hard to talk to people.  I don't know what's going on in the world right now.  The election came and went without me even realizing it.  We could be having World War III around us, and I don't think I would even take notice.  I am a terrible conversationalist, I can't make small talk.  What can you talk about, really?  There is always the huge elephant in the middle of the room that nobody wants to acknowledge.  People don't want to talk about dead babies.  It's uncomfortable, awkward.  Other parents avoid you like the plague, as if losing a baby was contagious to them.  Nobody wants to think that these happen to normal people.  It's easier to just avoid at all costs and look the other way.   

I hide statuses and wall posts on Facebook from friends and family that have babies, pregnancies, baby pictures, anything that makes me remember what my life should resemble right now.  My news feed is down to a few repeating, non-triggering friends.  It's sad.  I used to be so excited to read about these milestones.

And life goes on around me.  Daily routines slowly try weaving their way back to normalcy.  People continue the holiday bustle of shopping and decorating for Christmas.  Bills continue to arrive.  Television series continue week after week.  I just want to go outside and scream at the top of my lungs to the world, "My baby is dead - how can you go on like nothing happened?!"

It's been harder since my husband has gone back to work.  I can't distract myself.  When left to my own devices, the 'what if's' consume me.  From the minute I awaken until the minute I go to sleep, I am online reading.  Searching.  Seeking.  For anyone or anything that could give me answers as to why my little one is dead and not in my arms right now.  I've read every research article, every study, every blog from babylost moms and dads around the world that I can find, every message board, every support group thread.  Even Google can't seem to keep up with me.  It's become my obsession, my compulsion.  And it's eating me alive.

I need answers.  I need my doctors to run blood panels on me to see if I have anything wrong that may have caused this - blood clots, autoimmune disorders, etc.  I need a clear and conclusive cause of death.  I need a referral to a geneticist to make sure that the problem wasn't chromosomal or genetic.  I need every test known to mankind to be performed on us so that I can know that no stone was left unturned.  I need my period to come this week so that I can know that my physical body is returning to normal levels of functioning.  I need things to happen now.    I am not patient.  I was patient for long enough.  And the minutes are ticking by slower than ever.