It’s so hard to believe that today is the day that our baby Addison was due to arrive.
We have a quiet celebration of her short little life planned for this evening.
It’s so hard to believe that today is the day that our baby Addison was due to arrive.
We have a quiet celebration of her short little life planned for this evening.
It is with a heavy heart that I let you know that Shiloh’s sister, Belle, was found on the side of the road – about 6 miles from Nina’s house – last night.
Nina got a call from someone who had seen one of her flyers letting her know that she had seen a puppy on the side of the road.
Horrified, Nina fled to the scene, to find that it was in fact, Belle.
We are ALL absolutely brokenhearted over the loss of sweet Belle. Thank you so much to all of you who helped and supported us in our efforts to find her.
Shiloh, to us, represents new life, and moving forward.
She was born on July 21, the day after we found out we’d lost Addison, and the day before my (first) D&C.
She came home to us on September 11, 2011, the tenth anniversary of the most horrific terrorist attacks on American soil…and just 11 days after losing my beloved dog Jake.
Shiloh represents new life, and moving forward. She’s the most beautiful addition to our family we could have ever imagined.
Much more to come on Shiloh.
I don’t even know where to begin.
I finally got some good news from our OB’s office today, after going through a horrific scare for the past 8 days.
A bit of background…when you are pregnant your body (the embryo, actually…and later the placenta) produces a hormone called hCG. It starts out very low (pregnancy tests can detect it when it reaches about 25) and in a normal pregnancy it will double roughly every 48 hours until about the 12th week, when it starts to go back down.
Over the past few weeks my hCG has been going down, but very, very slowly. I’ve been going in to my OB’s office one or two times a week to have it tested…they want it to get back down to zero before you start trying to get pregnant again. There are many reasons for this, and one of them is that hCG not going down can signal that something isn’t right, such as the presence of placental tissue after a miscarriage. And, sometimes this residual tissue can be abnormal, and it can turn in to cancer.
Last Thursday I received a call from a nurse in our OB’s office telling me that my doctor wanted me to go in for one more blood test, and that if it wasn’t down to zero she was going to refer me to a gynecological oncologist and that I would most likely need Methotrexate, a chemotherapy drug.
This was the day after I had Jake put to sleep, and right after a call from Deceased Pet Care asking me what urn I wanted for Jake. I was already in such a state of shock and grief, I could not even comprehend what she was saying. It was a blur.
I mean, just POUR. IT. ON why don’t you.
I remember asking a few questions – none of which she had answers to.
I don’t think I even started to process that information until several days later. And when I did, I felt so angry that a doctor’s office would allow a nurse to call a patient and casually drop the words “abnormal placental tissue” and “oncologist” and “chemotherapy” without being able to provide me with detailed information on exactly WHY I would need to see an oncologist…what they thought might be going on with me, what the prognosis was. Nothing. And because it was a holiday weekend I could not call until Tuesday.
I did finally speak with my doctor on Wednesday and she explained that her concern was that I still had some abnormal placental tissue and that if my hCG was still not going down she would like to consult with a gynecological oncologist and that the treatment would most likely be Methotrexate, a chemotherapeutic drug that is very effective in treating these kinds of things. She said that they would most likely do a chest x-ray and a head CT to check my lungs and brain for signs of cancer, as those are the places these things usually spread to first.
Hearing all of this nearly sent me over the edge.
First I lose my baby, then another, I have to put my beloved dog Jake down, and now I may have cancer??
The past few days have been sheer Hell. I was glad to finally have a detailed explanation of what she thought I was facing, and I was terrified of what I was potentially facing.
I shared with my OB the fact that I was not at all happy about the phone call I had gotten the week before…that a nurse, not my Dr., had been tasked with delivering the (partial) news, and that she was unable to answer any of my questions. That you don’t just drop the words oncologist and chemotherapy without an explanation!
She apologized profusely and assured me that she would personally call me with the results the next morning so that we could discuss what would be happening next and she could answer any and all questions I had.
Yesterday came and went. No phone call.
This morning when I woke up I called and asked for her and the receptionist told me she was out until Tuesday. I burst in to tears and started sobbing (that poor receptionist). She asked if I wanted to speak with a nurse, and I told her no, that I really needed to speak with a Dr. She put me through to a very helpful nurse who assured me that another OB in the practice would call me today.
The Dr. that called took a good twenty minutes on the phone with me. She read all the way through my chart very thoroughly…even the pathology report from my first D&C, which she took the time to walk through with me.
The path report was completely normal and there was zero indication that any of the tissue was abnormal (in terms of being cancerous). She also walked through every procedure I’ve had recently (the two D&Cs), the results of those, and the results of every blood draw. She said she wanted to be sure she had a very clear picture of everything because so much has happened in the last two months and she could see how it could all be very confusing.
Bottom line, she said as low as my hCG is at this point and the fact that it is consistently falling, she would never have even thought to get an oncologist involved. She said I probably do have a little tissue left over after my D&C, and that’s perfectly normal, and that’s what makes the hCG linger.
Yesterday it was at 8, and when it’s under 5 you are considered medically not pregnant. She recommended that we continue following it all the way down to 0, and she said as young and healthy as I am we can then go ahead and start trying to get pregnant again (more on that in a later post). She thinks it will be at zero in a week or two, and said there is absolutely no reason to suspect that anything is wrong in any way.
So, as you can imagine, we have breathed an enormous sigh of relief today. Finally, some good news (REALLY good news!) around here! Now we can focus on moving forward…and bringing home Shiloh on Sunday.
I talked it over with Todd and I think we are going to switch to the OB I spoke with today. Not that I don’t like mine, but the lack of communication and the way that this whole thing has been handled this past week has been unnerving to say the least. I really liked the communication style and bedside manner of the Dr. I spoke with today, and I have a good friend who has been going to her for years and raves about her. Obviously, they are in the same practice, so it’s no big deal.
So here we are…moving forward…one day at a time.
A friend and fellow dog-lover wrote this note to me, and I am so touched and moved by it that I wanted to share it here.
I just read your back story with Jake, and I want to thank you.
I want to thank you for releasing Jake from the angst of his abandonment as a puppy.
I want to thank you for not allowing Jake to be abandoned again in a shelter awaiting another adoption.
I want to thank you for keeping Jake safe all of these years by keeping him away from others.
I want to thank you for avoiding what could have been a horrible tragedy if somehow Jake had found his way into a situation where he became agressive and injured someone, or himself.
Your choice was made out of love, and I thank you. I know he knows that you love him and that is why you did it. And I know he is smiling down on you from Heaven where he is finally free from his anger and unhappiness and he can run and play and be the happy dog he was meant to be.
As Todd’s dad so eloquently and accurately stated, sometimes doing the “right thing” is the hardest thing.
In early December of 2004 I found Jake on petfinder.com, and I knew the instant I saw his six-week-old puppy picture that we were meant to be.
I called the rescue organization that had him and inquired about what I would need to do to meet him, and on the next available adoption day I went. In the interim I completed a four-page application that required several references – among other things.
Jake and two other male puppies from the litter had been found abandoned in a ditch when they were just a few weeks old. Fortunately the person who found them placed them with a rescue group where they were fostered, given veterinary and other care, and placed up for adoption.
Holding him in my arms, feeling all that soft fluffy puppy fuzz and his sweet puppy breath on my neck while he looked so adoringly at me with his big, brown, soulful eyes gave me the final confirmation (as if I needed it) that he was meant to go home with me.
He was a VERY well-behaved puppy. Very trainable…he aimed to please. You could see how proud he was when he received praise and understood commands. He was potty-trained in 12 hours. Not kidding. The first day I had him I took him outside once every hour and praised the heck out of him after he went. Loads of treats…jackpot! He would just trot right back inside…head and tail held high…ready to snuggle back up with me. That first night he slept straight through the night with me and without so much as a tiny accident.
He had two nicknames early on: Hoover and Houdini. Houdini because he could climb any baby/dog gate (and eventually he just jumped over), and he could get out of his locked crate within seconds. Any crate! I tried several different kinds. I started calling him Hoover because he inhaled his food. I don’t think I ever once heard him actually chew a piece of food until he was about two years old, and he finally learned to slow it down a bit.
He’d started to show signs of being timid very early on. I remember even those first few days, when I’d take him outside in the yard, instantly his tail would go straight down, and he would just kind of freeze in place…staring at me as if to say, “get me out of here!”
Anything new…he didn’t like. One day he sat his tiny little puppy butt on the kitchen floor and barked like mad at my new coffee maker. If it was something new, or different, or loud and startling…he didn’t like it. He would bark at big loud trucks…and oh! It made them go away. Unfortunately he started to learn that it worked with strangers too. As he got older, the louder he barked, the more he lunged and snapped…they stayed away from him.
It kept him “safe.”
Fear aggression is, in my experience, very difficult to mitigate, because in the dog’s mind, it works. Jake’s trainer said one day what I’d long thought, “Jake’s motto is ‘the best defense is a good offense.’”
He was my velcro dog. If he could have physically attached himself permanently to me I think he would have. I used to say that if he could crawl up inside me, he would!
Nothing made Jake happier than to snuggle up with me and a blanket and hang out for hours on end.
In hindsight I realize that I was the only person he ever felt truly safe with; that he ever TRULY trusted. For nearly seven years I did everything I could to socialize him; to help him get more comfortable and feel confident in the world. I worked with his veterinarian, behaviorists, trainers…we tried medications…we tried so many things. I feel like we tried it all.
I picked this house – on a huge lot, privacy fenced, with a doggie door so he could go in and out as he pleased – for Jake. This house was MADE for a dog like Jake. He spent countless hours in the back yard, sunning, napping, and “hunting.” He brought me more squirrels than I’d care to count. His final catch – just a couple of weeks ago – was a chipmunk. Those tiny little elusive things had escaped his honed hunting and retrieving abilities for years. The squirrels he could catch. The chipmunks were just too slippery and fast…and he finally did it.
After seven years with my loyal and faithful companion, I made the agonizing decision I knew I would ultimately face. He was just too dangerous to other people and other dogs, and despite my tireless efforts and those of many professionals, we were just not able to provide him with any relief from his intense fear and uncertainties about the world.
While it has been excruciating for me, I know that I have released him from the mental and emotional prison he was in, and he is now free. I try to console and comfort myself by thinking about all of our happy memories together – there are so many – and to think about the joy and happiness he did have in his life.
Jake was one of the best friends I have ever had, and he brought me so much joy and comfort for many years. We had some really great years together. I will always love and honor him for that, and I will never, ever forget my sweet, protective, loyal companion, Jake.
Hours after my last post, due to multiple unmistakable symptoms I won’t bore you with, I took a pregnancy test.
It was positive.
Ok, all six of them were.
At the time we were literally on our way out the door to see our M+F therapist, Ellen. Given this shocking development, we had an excellent, though unexpected, session with her. We thought we’d be talking purely about grieving the loss of Addison. We did, and we also talked – cautiously – about the possibility of a new pregnancy. It was a good session.
We were…cautiously elated?
I saw my OB the next day for a follow up visit and gave her the news. They tested my hCG and it was right where it should be at 3.5 weeks. I went in again two days later for another beta test, and we got the phone call on Tuesday that it had dropped. This is a sign that you’re going to miscarry. Sure enough, the next day, at 4 weeks 3 days, it started.
We’re actually doing ok this time. I honestly had a feeling this wasn’t going to be our baby and didn’t get my hopes up or let myself get attached. I feel disappointed – and frustrated more than anything.
Ok, so we know we can get pregnant, seemingly any time we want. Now we need to see if we can find out why we can’t stay pregnant. I’m really hoping it’s something simple like a hormone level that needs to be adjusted. We have an appointment with my OB next Wednesday to get a referral to a fertility doctor.
I do have a good feeling about this overall though, and I see a baby (or two) in our future.
I think I’m doing better. Todd said he thinks so too. I’m starting to feel better…enjoying the little things in life again.
Yesterday afternoon the weather was really beautiful; cooler, breezy, with very low humidity, and Todd suggested that we move our work outside. We took our computers out on the patio and worked out there until it was time to start dinner. We had the house open and music playing. It was really, really nice. We had so much fun. I made spaghetti casserole and we ate our dinner out on the patio under the stars.
We really needed that.
Last Friday I had a really, really, really bad day…therefore Todd had a really, really, really bad day, too. We got through it (thanks to him) and I realized how much what’s going on with me affects him. I also realized that I NEED to get better…if not for me, then for him. So I promised him I would.
We have counseling today with our M+F therapist and I really have no idea where that will go. We do have some questions for her…specifically around getting pregnant again. I know Todd wants to try again, and on some level I do too, though it TERRIFIES me. I feel like if I learn that I’m pregnant again I’m going to be so paralyzed with fear that I’ll do nothing but cry all the time.
Everyone says we should try again; that we’ll make great parents. I do know that Todd would make an amazing father.
It’s just so hard – exhausting, actually – to go from a relatively carefree, childless existence – to mommy-mode – to childless again…and so to think about going BACK in to mommy-mode…it sounds completely overwhelming to me right now. But, I’ll be 42 in a couple of weeks, so if we’re going to do this, we really don’t have time to think about it.
Everything’s just been such a whirlwind these past few months. So many good things…and then this huge, horrifying loss right in the middle of it all.