My next ultrasound confirmed that there was an excess of fluid. Anything over 18 cm was polyhydramnios and I was at 24 cm. I was told a severe case was 30 to 40 cm so not to worry. By 2 weeks later, I was at 35 cm and that is pretty much where I have stayed since then. While this was typical of the third trimester with a CDH baby, I had pushed it to the back of my mind in the hopes it wouldn't happen for us. Now I had a much higher risk of premature labour, as well as a higher risk of uterine rupture because of pressure on my previous surgical scars. It was the first time I worried about me and not just about Samuel. Of course I wanted him to come out okay. But how could he be okay - not to mention the rest of my family - if I didn't come out okay?
The weekend after I found this out was the last of my Hakomi training. I had completed my two years of this amazing professional learning and it felt like a wonderful accomplishment. While others were grieving the loss of the group and the experience, I felt nothing. I was all full up on grief. I could barely sit in the room. It represented a part of me for which I no longer had any space. My intellectual energy was diverted, my emotional self unavailable. That was when I decided to wind down my counselling practice early. I needed my entire attention to be with my family. By Christmas I was done with my two days a week of clients and had just some transition work to be completed.
Many more blessings came to us in this time. Our friend Marijan stayed with us for a few days and took over our kitchen, cooking and baking to fill our freezer before returning to Ottawa. My brother-in-law John came to visit from Vancouver and tuned into the pain of our family so that he could become another person holding us close. My Hakomi colleagues made me a bracelet, each adding their own bead to give me something tangible that represented their combined care and support. My friend Susan in Virginia sent me a beautiful quilt that she made on behalf of my mamas group. A mum from the playschool wrote me a beautiful card and gave me the candle that she'd been lighting for me for nine days while she prayed novenas for my famly.
One enormous blessing was the connection made to a friend of a friend, a woman who lost her baby when he was born terribly ill at 30 weeks gestation. Our circumstances were quite different and yet we were finishing each others' sentences within a half hour of our coffee shop meeting. We spent two hours together talking about our experience with tears and deep understanding. I had amazing support all around me but this was a unique bond to be able to talk about the death of a baby, the funeral, the reactions of others, the heartbreaking decision to let go, the impact on the rest of the family with someone who just "knew."
There was no greater blessing through all of this than Samuel's three big brothers. They saw me cry too often. They watched too much television when I was ill. Jakey had enough playdates that he started to balk at them by mid-December. He wanted to just be with me. We watched movies together or read books in bed. During the times when I had to leave him for an appointment he couldn't attend, he became anxious. Once I got called home from Christmas shopping because Jakey was crying hysterically and worrying that someone would take me, something would happen to me.
We talked regularly about what was happening; I didn't want them making up their own version of the added stress in our house. They knew by mid-summer that I was pregnant and we talked about having a 4th child in our family. This inspired a talk between Daniel and I about how I got pregnant. I unsuccessfully dodged going the whole nine yards on this one. But HOW did the sperm get IN there with the egg? My answer yielded a shocked, "Why on earth would anybody want to DO THAT?!!" Good boy. Hold onto that for another decade or so.
After we knew how sick our baby was, we talked to the boys about that too. We told them that he had a difficulty that meant he would have trouble growing lungs, that babies didn't need lungs in utero but that he would have a very hard time once he was born and he would die if he couldn't learn to breathe on his own. Daniel got more of the technical information about the diaphragmatic hernia. Zachary and Jacob understood what they were able to.
Their responses to all of this were beautiful, funny, and inspiring. Daniel is quietly thoughtful. It is clear when he does talk that there is a lot of processing going on inside that eight year old introvert mind of his. He's wondered what it would be like if Samuel dies and, if he lives, what it would be like to have a brother with severe disabilities. His questions are often technical; when he came to the ultrasound, he was fascinated with the equipment and how things worked and what they could see. I see him watching Chris and I, trying to discern what else might be going on. When we talked on new year's day, his hopes for 2011 included "getting really good at soccer and seeing mommy be well again."
Daniel seems torn between being interested to feel the baby move in my belly and being utterly freaked out by it. Who can blame him?! It is like Invasion of the Body Snatchers in there, especially because he has so much extra room to move with the additional fluid. By 10:00 each evening, Samuel frequents the Fetus Nightclub circuit and his crazy gyrations freak me out as well.
Zachary is the one who will run from across the room to feel Samuel move. His interest in the baby is emotional, almost spiritual. He hugs my belly and talks to Samuel through my belly button, which he imagines is some kind of audio port. He says, "This is your big brother Zachary. I hope you are alright in there." He can be very protective of me; just as Jakey's anxieties were abating, Zachary became glued to me day and night. He said he worries that Samuel is hurting me or that I won't be okay. He often comes up with questions out of the blue so I asked him if he thinks of the baby a lot. He said, "Oh yea, all the time. Well, not ALL the time because I do have work to do. Like sometimes Question of the Day is quite challenging and I need to focus."
We told them they could ask the doctor a question at the ultrasound they attended and Zachary wanted to know if and how and when the baby was going to die. My heart broke just a little. Now if we ask him about the baby, he says, "We just have to wait and see. God will decide." My wise six year old.
With Jacob being just four years old, it is hard to know what he understands. Given the same opportunity to ask a question at the ultrasound, he asked "Is the baby naked in there?" The Perinatologist, with his years of experience and education, straight-facedly assured Jakey that the baby was naked in there. Jakey was horrified. "Not even a DIAPER?!" That's right, the doctor affirmed, not even a diaper.
Jakey is my chatterbox and Samuel is often the topic of choice. We have deep talks like the following: "Mum, if Samuel met the Hulk in a fight, that would not be a fair match, do you sink so? But if Mr. Incredible met Hulk in a fight, that would be a fair match. But if Samuel met Mr. Incredible in a fight, that would not be a fair match, do you sink so? But if Iron Man met Hulk in a fight, that would be a fair match, right Mum?" It is important, but not always easy, to participate meaningfully in the hours and hours of this type of conversation.
His talk about Samuel is embedded in our every day together. He goes to school three mornings a week so we have lots of time just hanging out. One day he told me he had three thoughts. They were, in sequence: "First, when do I get to play soccer again? Next, maybe God will think it's okay to give us another baby after this one dies. Next, mama your legs are keeping my feets warm." He is currently gestating a baby of his own, a wee fetus by the name of Timothy. No word on the expected when and how of Timothy's birth.
Yummy sweet little men I have. I know my boys are affected by this experience in some ways I would rather they not be and in other ways that I think will ultimately make them stronger, wiser, more empathetic little people. I went to extra lengths to make sure Christmas was normal and fun - and my mom did her usual overboard Nana schtick. Santa came through with a Wii at last and there was much food and excitement. If I worry too much, I look at this picture from Christmas day and decide that, no, these are not traumatized children. :)
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