Month: September 2017

Pregnancy Symptoms

Michelle Van Benthem

Nausea. Fatigue. Headaches. Congestion. Pregnancy brings with it a plethora of oh so enjoyable friends! Guess what, I HATE IT!! Yes, I am complaining. Why? Because pregnancy is hard! For ~40 weeks your body is not your own. You have apps, books, doctors, family, and friends all giving you advice and telling you what to do and it takes all the self control I can muster to simply smile and nod. To those who think I should “be grateful that I get the chance to try again,” or say that I shouldn’t complain “especially after what I went through before,” I respectfully ask you to shut up. I am acutely aware of what I have been through. I am beyond thankful that I am fortunate enough to get pregnant the first month we tried. I know not everyone “is so blessed.” But guess what, pregnancy is hard. It is emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausting. Every woman, regardless of their past, has the right to bitch and moan when they are pregnant. WE ARE GROWING HUMAN BEINGS!!

So, the next time you ask how I’m feeling and it sounds like I’m complaining, feel free to commiserate with me and tell me “that sucks!” or “sorry to hear.” But please, keep your condescending opinions of my reaction to pregnancy symptoms to yourself.

Doctor Appointments

Michelle Van Benthem

For as long as I can remember, I have dealt with anxiety and depression. It has always been a part of my life. When I was pregnant with Stella & Joy, doctor appointments were a huge trigger for me. Google is a pregnant woman’s worst nightmare, especially in a high risk pregnancy. I would have nightmares that one twin “ate” the other. That twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome was happening. That they would perform the ultrasound and there would be nothing there. Appointment after appointment, however, the girls continued to grow and flourish, healthy as can be. Eventually I let myself relax. Doctor appointments became less scary and more exciting, as it gave me a chance to see my daughters growing. At one point, the number of appointments actually became annoying. I felt like I was always going to an appointment.

Then, December 2nd happened. My mom took me to the hospital for my routine NST (non-stress test to check the girls heartbeats and monitor if I was showing any signs of labor) because I was feeling way to big to drive. I was joking around with the nurses and my mom about the girls hiding and making what should be a 20 minute appointment into an hour-long appointment sometimes. All the joking stopped when the only sound on the monitors was silence. After weeks and months of appointments, letting myself relax and enjoy the ride, my world fell apart at that appointment.

When Zach and I talked about trying again, I told him my fears. I worried how I would be able to mentally handle the stress, anxiety, and fear of more doctor appointments. Now that I am pregnant again, I find that I am much calmer than I anticipated, but for a very morbid reason. I have come to accept that at any appointment, this baby may be gone. This is my new reality. I am not excited, I am not scared, I am not anxious. I am realistic.

Thursday night I have an appointment at Abington Hospital. It is my second ultrasound. I am hopeful that this baby is alive and well, showing signs of growth since I saw it a few weeks ago. But I am also realistic. I know how this can end.  Perhaps the scariest part of all is that I do believe this baby is ok. My heart has already decided that this pregnancy will work out and I will go home with a happy, healthy baby. My mind, however, is much more logical and knows that I may not get my happy ending. But my heart won’t give up hope.

“Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane.” (Red, Shawshank Redemption). My hope for a happy ending will keep me going, even if I go crazy in the process.

Announcing Early

Michelle Van Benthem

Second trimester. The “safe zone.” Typically, pregnancy is announced after 13 weeks have passed and the chance of miscarriage drops significantly. When I was pregnant with Stella & Joy, I waited. Zach had a much harder time waiting, often confessing to me on our nightly phone calls that he told someone else. We agreed to wait to publicly announce and make it “Facebook official” until we were safely out of the first trimester.

Well, we now know, there really is no safe zone. I made it to 35.5 weeks with a high risk, identical twin pregnancy and lost it all. I was 5 days shy of my scheduled delivery date when my body failed me. If I’ve learned anything from this experience, it’s that you’re never in safe zone.

When Zach and I first discussed trying again, I said I didn’t want to tell anyone. I would just get big and when people asked I would play dumb. I didn’t want to find out the gender, I didn’t want to get attached. I would only tell a select few people and other than that I was just going to pretend it wasn’t happening. The moment I got that positive test, my whole mindset changed.

When I took the test, I already knew. I just had a feeling. Zach was at work and I didn’t want to tell him over the phone so I called my best friend, Sarah. She cried, I cried, and then this wave of warmth came over me. I was excited. Truly and genuinely excited. That night, when Zach got home, I told him and saw how happy he was too.

We decided to wait at least until after our honeymoon to tell anyone else. Slowly, we began to tell more people. On my birthday, we decided to share with everyone. I know this isn’t going to be easy. This pregnancy is going to be a long, tough road, but right now, I am happy and excited. God forbid this pregnancy ends in loss too, I want every minute of it to be celebrated. This baby will know just how loved and wanted and treasured he or she was from the earliest moments of existence.

So yes, I am only 9 weeks pregnant. I’m not out of the 1st trimester or in the supposed safe zone, but I am happy. Zach and I are both realistic and optimistic. We know just how bad any one of these doctors appointments can go, but we also have hope. For now, we plan to celebrate and plan for our future, and we want all of our family and friends to be apart of it.

Our Next Chapter

Michelle Van Benthem

PAL, an acronym I was never familiar with. Pregnancy After Loss. That’s what they call it, a loss. So much was lost that fateful Friday. The obvious loss, our beautiful daughters Stella and Joy. What people don’t see is all the other losses that come. First cries, first laughs, first steps, first birthdays. Mother’s days, father’s days, birthdays, holidays. The everyday routine that never had a chance to come to fruition, the sleepless nights that are sleepless for a different reason. The “loss” never ends.

Just as rainbows bring beauty after a storm, a rainbow baby brings hope after a loss. Rainbows don’t erase the storm. We still see the grey sky, water, and even some wind. But, rainbows bring beauty back to the once darkened land. This new baby, our rainbow baby, doesn’t erase or negate the loss of our angles or lessen the depth of our pain, but it does bring hope and light back to our lives.

For now, I feel a sense of calm and excitement. I have found a great deal of support through Facebook groups. The number of women and families affected by miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant loss is overwhelming. It helps to have people who know your pain and journey.

I have family, both by blood and by choice, who love me and check in on me frequently. I have coworkers who have gone as far as sitting on the floor of my classroom with me when I was too emotionally weak to stand. I have a husband who is the most caring and supportive man I could ever ask for. I am lucky.

This baby, our rainbow, our future, is not going to be easy. I’m going to need my support systems. I’m going to need to continue seeing my therapist and taking care of my mental health as much as my physical health. This rainbow does not, nor will it ever, erase the storm that came before. Stella and Joy will always be my daughters. They will always be my first born and they will always be a part of our journey. This baby will know of his/her sisters that came before. This baby will never erase our pain, fill the hole in our hearts, or replace our daughters. This baby is our next chapter.