Wishing for a do-over

I have tried all week to think of something else to write about.  No luck.

Blogging is way cheaper than therapy, so I guess I will just continue to pour out of my heart, whatever it is that needs to come out.

I have mentioned many times that Carter's death was completely unexpected.  On the way to the hospital, I knew that something wasn't quite right, and I had typical pregnancy worries.  But I never considered that something actually might be wrong.  During the weeks and months of getting ready for Carter, we didn't plan for the possibility that he wouldn't come home with us.  "Decide what to do if your baby dies" isn't on any of the 'get ready for baby' checklists.  It is so unfair that for those of us thrust into the situation, that the hard choices must be made so quickly.  It is impossible to have a clear mind when making decisions.

The nurses and midwives asked us if we wanted an autopsy.  Shawn and I agreed - "no".  The doctors saw the abruption on the ultrasound.  All the symptoms lined up.  We decided that we were ok accepting that it was the abruption and that we didn't need more information.

Then, they asked again.  "Are you sure you don't want an autopsy?"  -  "Yes, we are sure".

Yet again, I wish I would have heard what they were saying with unspoken words... "We can't force you to do this.  But please, have the autopsy.  You will regret it if you don't.  Days, months, years from now when the questions pop up, your only chance for answers will be gone."  ... Yet I didn't hear the hidden message.  All I heard was them asking if they should cut my baby open.  Of course I didn't want that.  How could they possibly cut into this sweet little boy?

Besides, an autopsy would take time.  And I wanted it all done and over with as soon as it could be.  As if leaving the hospital and rushing the funeral would make reality disappear.

But the unanswered questions now swim in my mind.

I am certain I had an abruption with Livie as well.  But it didn't kill her.  So why did it kill Carter?  What if the abruption wasn't the true culprit?  Or what if it was a contributing factor, but there were other forces at work that weakened him?

That morning in the hospital, when I confirmed that I didn't want an autopsy, I didn't know what information I was passing on.  Carter was a perfectly normal weight for his age.  Right-on compared to what Liv weighed at birth.  And he was big for his age - there was no way he would fit in the preemie clothes I had brought.  He had long legs, and the nurse measured his height multiple times to make sure she was correct.  These indicate that the placenta was doing its job.  Helping him grow.  What I didn't understand, was that in some situations, there could be clue inside his little body as to how long the abruption had been going on for.  Were his organs normally developed?  Or was their growth stunted?  If it appeared that the abruption had been going on for some time - what would that mean for a future pregnancy?  If he was completely normal, that would be a clue that the abruption was sudden, happening only after labor started.  What would that mean for a future pregnancy?  The doctors can't check the size of his organs from a container of ashes, so I will never know.

And then, there is the question I am scared to ask.  We agreed that we could live with abruption being the cause of his death.  So why does my mind ask more questions?  Why am I not satisfied to accept the clearest answer?

Nine days before Carter was born, we went to a birthday party.  The party was for the daughter of one of my dearest friends.  We all had a blast.  And then, the e-mail came.  An e-mail telling me that a little boy that had been at the party had the chicken pox.

I didn't know much about pregnancy and chicken pox, except that the two weren't good together.  Doctor google provided me with the info I needed: chickenpox in pregnancy... "A greater threat to a baby occurs when the mother develops chickenpox in the week before birth. Then it can cause a serious, life-threatening infection in a newborn."


Other sites suggested that stillbirth was possible.  Some sites said that the mother needed to show symptoms before there was a concern.  Other sites said that exposure in pregnancy was concern enough.  I spent the better part of that day freaking out to a co-worker.  She eventually was able to calm me down.  "You will be fine.  You can't worry about this.  After the year you have had, I promise, everything will be ok.  It has to be"  And I believed her.  I was just being a hormonal pregnant lady.  Over-reacting.


I did call the on-call midwife immediately, who suggested that we check at my next appointment to see if I was immune to chicken pox.  I never made it to that appointment, due to Carter's early arrival.

When I first looked over his sweet little body, I noticed something on his arm, but I dismissed it as 'just something'.  But now, I always wonder - what was it?  Just a mark, or the start of chicken pox?


I had been wanting to discuss my questions with my midwife, and then I ended up in the hospital for my gallbladder.  Because I pretty much have the greatest care providers ever, my midwife (came in on her day off as a friend, not a doctor) was by my side when I was brought up to my room.  The nurse asked the typical intake questions.  And then she asked a question I hadn't been asked before.  "Have you been exposed to the chicken pox in the last 3 months?"


I saw my midwife bristle at my answer.  There was an audible gasp.  It was neither the time or place for a discussion about that.  And now I am scared to talk to her.  What if there is more to Carter's story than just an abruption?  What if there isn't?  What if I am just continuing to grasp at made-up straws?  Over-reacting yet again?


I will never know.


I try to tell myself that I am ok not knowing, but that is simply not true.  I don't have questions because I want someone/something to blame.  I have questions because that is all there is to have.  I need answers, but there are none.  Too bad that there are no do-overs in real life.