Part 1

Here's the beginning of Eleanor's story. I wrote it when I was still pregnant with her but for some reason never hit publish! Anyway.. here it is!

.
.

You know when something is going really well? Like too-good-to-be-true well? That's how I've felt about this pregnancy. I mean, kind of- there have been lots of ups and downs, and days weeks when we thought for sure I was losing the baby. There's no way there is a baby still inside me after what just happened. I'll spare you the details, but I'm sure you can imagine. But, here I am, 32 weeks and still pregnant. So I am considering that a freaking good thing. Anyway, when something is going really well, and you don't want to jinx it, or put pressure on it- I was so scared that by making it a public thing would ruin it. Or worse- what if something- the worst thing- happened? I'd have no choice but to make some kid of devastating announcement. I guess it was just my way of keeping some of the control- because if you've ever been pregnant, there is just not a lot in your control.

I was so hesitant to share the news partly because I didn't want other people to feel what I felt, sitting there watching their dream come true for someone else. I have been there. It's painful. As terrible as that sounds, because you know with all of your heart and mind that you are happy for them, you want to be happy for them, it hurts just a little for you.

I guess I'll start from the beginning because I for so long thought, and even told people- no more kids. One was all we were gunna get and she is the coolest person I know (well, some things haven't changed). Jared and I decided going about pregnancy the same way over and over again was just not working. 5 tries all ending in miserable, agonizing, traumatic losses was just enough. It was more than I could handle. We knew we had to take some time to not even think about it. Maybe one day we'd find it in us to give it another shot but for then, we were done. I started working and we started traveling and creating a new life- a good one, different than the original plan, but one that made us happy. A year went by and we talked about it and talked about it and both decided we were ready to give it one last try. Really we weren't expecting a different outcome, 10-13 weeks and then we'd know for sure it wasn't meant to be. We were prepared for it this time- the end before the beginning. I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I didn't say I'd tried everything. So this time we went into it with pretty much no hope or expectations of anything but loss. Some people have told me that I have to be positive- negativity can make the worst happen.. Blah blah blah. I never thought of myself as being negative about the situation. I had to protect myself. I think anyone that's been in my situation can understand that.

Anyway, with much persuasion from Jared I decided to stay on my medication (for what we thought- were told by more than one doctor... I'll get into that later- was an unrelated diagnosis) for an auto-immune disease I was diagnosed with at 17. It's called Polymyocitis, it's kind of like lupus, except mine has always been pretty mild, and even when things are bad and my blood work comes back not looking great, I feel pretty normal. The medication I take for this suppresses my immune system. In the past I've always gone off this medication, it comes with many risks for pregnancy and isn't recommended and being the type of person that doesn't even eat lunch meat or look at a soda while I'm pregnant, there was no way I was taking category D medication. But, we thought this was going to end anyway so what's the point of going off everything and kicking myself out of remission?
So I got pregnant and as usual everything started off as good as can be. Lots of blood work, and trips to the pharmacy for heparin and needles and progesterone and special prenatals. Then the doctors appointments. A week after my first appointment the bleeding started. More doctors appointments only to determine they knew nothing about where the bleeding was coming from and as usual I was assured the baby looked fine and everything would "probably be okay". And as usual I stifled my eye rolls. At 10 weeks (still bleeding) I was discharged from my reproductive endocrinologist and referred to a perinatologist in town. I usually didn't make it far enough to go to this appointment. In fact I'd only made it there once and it was during my pregnancy with Charlie. My experience with this doctor was far from good and to say I was nervous was a serious understatement. As you can imagine, even with my expectations as low as they were, it's impossible to not get more attached by the day. At the last minute during my last appointment with my RE I requested a different perinate. This would be the best decision of my life. He some-what hesitantly agreed to refer me to the doctor that would save this baby!