The Results Are In

On March 31st I finally received the call I had been anxiously waiting for. The results of our baby's pathology tests were in.

The doctor said our baby had a rare chromosome abnormality and there shouldn't be a great chance of me miscarrying again. Then she asked if I wanted her to fax the lab report to me. I said yes as I figured Jake would have questions. Our original plan was to make an appointment to see the doctor when the results were in. Jake was worried I wouldn't be able to handle the news and I knew Jake would have questions.

But I was anxious to know what the results were. When the doctor said it was a chromosome abnormality I didn't see the point in trying to set up an appointment to see her. There isn't much you can do for a chromosome abnormality and since this was my first confirmed pregnancy I knew the doctor more than likely wouldn't refer us for genetic counseling.

I got a lot more information from the faxed results. I was a little scared to read the fax. My biggest fear was that I would find out the baby's gender. I wasn't sure I wanted to know. I was scared it would be a boy (I'd really like a boy) and we'd have nothing but girls after that. Or it would be a girl and we'd have nothing but boys after that (Jake wants a girl). I didn't want to spend the rest of our lives thinking about the one baby we wanted to have but didn't.

Most of the results were in medical terms. I had to look things up on the internet to find out exactly what kind of chromosome abnormality our baby had. The one phrase that stuck out at me - and still sticks out at me - was that the baby was "maternal in nature." Well, that took care of not wanting to know the baby's gender.

"It/Baby" was a girl.

I began to cry as soon as I comprehended what I had read. Suddenly, it didn't matter what the baby's gender was. The being that had been inside of me was no longer ambiguous. Suddenly, my baby became very real. The miscarriage became very real to me. I would have had a girl. I had visions of pretty frilly dresses and tutus. In pink.

But we will never get to dress her up in pretty pink things.

The fax said our baby had monosomy x. Which, according to my search of the internet, is a fancy medical way of saying Turner Syndrome.

Turner Syndrome only affects girls. So even if the fax didn't say the baby was "maternal in nature" I would have found out the baby's gender. It's got something to do with reproduction and puberty. Some women don't even find out they have it until they start trying to conceive and find out they can't. It sounds like our baby would have had a normal life, other than not being able to conceive, if she had been born. That is sad to think about, but only about 1% of babies who have Turner Syndrome will ever be born. It was a comfort to know that in this regard, our baby had been a majority. If the percentages had been reversed it would have upset me even more. It's already a slap in the face to miscarry, it would have been an even bigger one to find out most babies with the abnormality are born.

From the sound of it, Turner Syndrome isn't something that is passed on from the parents to the baby. So it was comforting to know that I was right in thinking I had done nothing wrong.

Jake and I can start trying to conceive again next month, but I don't think it will be as exciting as the time before. We're already nervous miscarrying again. It happened once, it can happen again. The fact that this miscarriage was a rare chromosome abnormality is helpful to know and the doctor doesn't think there is a big risk of it happening again, but I don't know how comforting all that really is. The innocence of pregnancy is lost on us now.

Ignorance Is Bliss

I hate therapy.

It's one hour in my life I can't be ignorant about what's going on in my life. I have to talk about it. I am asked to dig deep and talk about things I'd rather not talk about. After that one hour I realize just how screwed up things in my life have been.

Tomorrow I go for my second visit to my current therapist. This will be the third time in my life I have tried talking to one. The first time I saw a therapist, she was so unethical and non-HIPAA compliant I really could have gotten her into some trouble. She wanted to hold a couples therapy session without my other half. It's kind of hard to do when you're flying solo in a visit.

The second time wasn't so bad. It made me realize that maybe couples therapy really worked. I needed someone who could help Jake understand our relationship really wasn't one at the time. Jake finally came around to understanding how I was feeling about our relationship and things improved dramatically. But I didn't feel like I was the one being scrutinized during those sessions. I just vented about how I was feeling about our relationship and the therapist did his thing to make Jake understand it.

And now I'm therapy for my miscarriage. My first visit was the day I received a call from the doctor saying she had the results of the pathology test. I was a mess. I couldn't think straight. I think I would have been a little more put together if I hadn't received the call three hours before my appointment.

The first visit was more like a "get to know you" visit. I had to talk about my relationship with Jake, my parents, and my friends. What I like to do for fun. What a normal day for me is like. My previous bouts of depression and anxiety.

The entire time I was there I wanted to jump out of my chair and run away. I admitted that to the therapist. She determined that any new situation gives me anxiety (nothing new to me there though).

The only thing I really liked about the visit was that the therapist validated my feelings and actions. I seem to be grieving correctly. I cry when I need to. If I don't feel like seeing anyone I don't. If I feel like spending the day in bed it's okay. I recognize that exercise is a mood lifter and she commended that. She seemed really happy that I started blogging. I don't indulge in drugs or alcohol when I'm having a rough day (although drinking really is tempting sometimes).

I am doing everything right. For now. But how long is it really okay to hibernate in bed and avoid seeing people? Because I still don't have much of a desire to do anything social. I don't have much of a desire to visit our parents or relatives. When do I stop crying at work?

The therapist couldn't give me definite answer. It seemed to be "Whatever is right for you." I don't think I'll ever not be sad about my miscarriage. What I'm afraid of is this wanting to isolate myself. I still feel like I'm forcing myself to go out and see people. And it can't be normal for that to go on for months on end, right?

I'm feeling a lot better than I did a couple of weeks ago. The therapist seemed to leave it up to me as to how often and how long I continue to see her. It's been tempting to call her office and cancel tomorrow's appointment. But I know I'd be canceling because I want to avoid getting into issues I don't care to talk about, not because I am feeling better. Because after going to therapy several times, I know better than to think this time all we'll talk about is my miscarriage and how it makes me feel. I'm going to have to talk about other situations and people in my life and how they made me feel to try and get an understanding of how to help me through the loss of my baby. And although having the opportunity to have someone help me through this process is nice to think about, I'd rather not do it at the expense of bringing up past experiences I'd much rather like to keep deep in the back of my mind.