The results....

Well, the doctor finally called...or should I say, returned MY call.  Looks like all the tests on Andrew came back normal.  He was a perfect and healthy little boy.  Obviously, it is MY body that is killing my babies.  Why?  I don't know, but it comes down to the blood-clotting issues...it has to.  My test was slightly abnormal on one of the clotting tests the fertility doctor did on me a year ago, but a hematologist said it wasn't concerning and was "normal."  My doctor gave me the option to take an aspirin a day, but it was up to me and she didn't think it was really necessary...now I have to kick myself for not taking every possible precaution I could.  If I had just taken the damn thing, Andrew may still be here.  Instead, I have to look at his picture knowing that he was doing his part, growing perfectly, and was healthy...but something happened to end it.  I happened.  It's the only answer that makes sense.  I have to look at his picture knowing there is no reason I should be seeing him like that...he could have survived.  As harsh and as horrid as it sounds, my body killed him. The placenta did show the possible problem (perivillous fibrin disposition), which could point to a clotting disorder, or could be from the fact that he had died almost three days before I delivered.  I think it will be the former.  I hate this.

Now, the question is, do I try again?  Do I risk it again?  Can I live with myself if I lose another?  Obviously, the babies are growing fine and healthy, it's just a matter of giving them the right environment.  If I take medication, will my body do it's part and not fail another precious child?  If they don't find a cause on further or repeat testing, do I risk it anyway without medication?  It can't just be luck of the draw three times in a row, and two 14-week miscarriages...can it?  I really was feeling better about this pregnancy and thought that the first two in a row were luck.  I mean, the early one I had is VERY common, it happens.  The second one was because I jumped and moved wrong, causing the hemorrhage, which then caused the placenta to tear away a week later, expelling Lily and ending that one. But, now there's this one.  Everything was fine.  His heartbeat was fine just hours before he died.  His ultrasound testing a week and a half before showed him to be perfect, as did the blood tests.  So maybe it's not as random as I was thinking...and my fertility doctor was wrong, too.  She had no answers or explanations.  I wonder what she will say now when I go back next week?

If I do get pregnant again, will I get lucky enough to have another healthy child?  I have three already, and now two of the four miscarriages (the only ones that were tested) were genetically normal, so will I be blessed with another healthy baby AND be able to carry to term.  Can I bear to suffer through a pregnancy, physically, mentally, emotionally, knowing the toll it takes on me...AND deal with the constant fear and anxiety that at any moment something could go wrong AGAIN?  Can I live with the fact that I will never have another child, otherwise?  I just don't know.  I just still cannot believe that I am in this position.  My first two pregnancies were hard on my physically, but were so easy to conceive and there were no complications.  I had the 14-week loss where the baby had died at 12 weeks...and at that time I had never even heard of such a thing.  I thought you bled, you lost the baby, and it all happened early on.  I didn't know you could carry around a baby who had died AND go on  with the pregnancy like nothing happened.  That shook my world!  Then, I was blessed with Trevor, so it seemed that the loss was just one of those things after all.  Surely that 1% chance was just a "fluke."  Surely, with having one rare and isolated loss, such as I did, I was good to go. That was the one bad experience I was going to have.  No one can fall into the 1% category over and over again, right?

I've always wanted two children close in age, but the way things keep working out, it's just never going to happen.  Taylor is 18.  Hayley is 11.  Trevor will be 6 in December...and I've been trying for almost 3 years, with no luck.  Ages aside, I just need another baby.  I am at a different place in my life right now and I am getting older.  I just need one more.  If I could have five more, I would, but I will settle for just one more. Please God, that's all I'm asking, and then, I can go on with the rest of my life.  Some may say I have three healthy children already, so I should be thankful, and I am.  BUT, that just doesn't fill this need and desire for another.  It's so frustrating to be this person.  One of the unfortunate women who has trouble with pregnancy and carrying a baby to term.  It hurts.  My angels and losses are never out of my mind and I don't know that I will ever move forward without my rainbow baby (a baby conceived after loss(es).  The beauty at the end of the storm).

I moved Andrew's ashes into Hayley's Scentsy monkey.  It's nice to have something to hold, to squeeze, to lay with...Hayley likes it, too.  Even Trevor has come up to hug it.  It works perfectly, and the vanilla scent really helps relax me.  The only bad thing is that it makes me feel bad to walk out of the room and leave him on my desk when I could carry him with me.  I know it sounds crazy, but he is and always will be my baby.  It's strange to sit with him in my lap, knowing he should be just a few inches away thriving in my womb.  Instead, he is a pile of ashes tucked away inside a stuffed animal.  Once the anxiety and hurt heals a bit, I will probably move him back to his beautiful urn, but for now, I just need him close.  Maybe after I buy mine and Hayley's urn necklaces, it will be easier to make that transition since he will always be right by our hearts.  I hope he can feel the love we have for him.  I just wish we could feel his love in return.