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Recently I participated in an online discussion on a preemie group I belong to regarding having a clotting disorder during pregnancy.  The discussion began with a woman asking a question about a subchorionic hemorrhage she had in early pregnancy.  A couple of us advised her to ask her perinatologist about having a thrombophilia panel done since she had had a preemie just a couple of years ago and now this early bleed in her second pregnancy. 

I, too, had a subchorionic hemorrhage in very early pregnancy with Aidan.  About the 6th week along.  It was absorbed by the next ultrasound and was not thought of again until that day in the hospital when I was diagnosed with homozygous Methylenetetrahydrofolate reductase gene mutations, better known as MTHFR.  (For those of you wondering at home, high risk OBs, perinatologists, and antepartum nurses do use *that* word it looks like to describe it.  Sorry have to keep this G-rated.    Hmmm…I wonder if that early bleed was a sign? 

Anyway…the discussion led to me pointing out that any future pregnancies for me would include daily shots of heparin or lovenox in my stomach.  Ugh.  I know…it isn’t great, folks.  It friggin hurts.  I literally still had bruises on my abdomen 3 months later from those shots.  And I only endured it for the last 2 weeks of my pregnancy once we knew about my disorder.  But I would gladly do it again for another baby…the whole nine months.

Except….that Aidan is our one and only.  How did we come to this decision?  Not lightly.  Not without a lot of soul searching, a lot of tears, and finally a lot of gratitude.

When Brandon and I were starting to talk about children seriously, we discussed how many, spacing, etc and we both stated that we may indeed decide we are happy with only one. 

This disorder makes the decision for us…or rather, the HELLP syndrome that resulted probably was more of a deciding factor.  There is too much that happened that is so scary and so painful, that the idea of repeating it is torturous even to consider.  The first time we found out at 21 weeks that his growth was not on track anymore, but lagging significantly.  The PIH at 24 weeks.  Then the hospitalization at 26 weeks.  The MTHFR diagnosis.  The physically grueling hospital bedrest accompanied by twice daily heparin injections, high flow oxygen, blood pressure meds, so much protein that when I saw my meal tray I thought I would vomit to have to take in so much food, and the 1.5 gallons of water I had to ingest each day.  The daily biophysical profile.  Holding our breath and hoping the umbilical cord flow had not reached reverse diastolic flow.  The 4 c-section scares before it actually happened.  Listening to the fetal monitor and hearing occasional decels.  The night of delivery.  Knowing my liver was about to rupture and wondering if I would ever see Aidan alive since I was going under general anesthesia.  Having to say goodbye to my husband as they wheeled me down the hall to the OR, frightened beyond measure.  Learning later that I bled out—a lot.  That I very nearly died.  And that my husband waited for 40 minutes alone in the hallway not knowing the fate of his family. 

The wondering of the next couple of years was just as difficult.  Will Aidan meet his milestones?  Will he have disabilities and what will they be? 

This kind of thing is also hard on a marriage.  Most people don’t talk about this.  And honestly, I think a lot of people who know us would be surprised to learn that all of this stress strained our marriage immensely.  But it did.  We each had our own personal brand of grief and PTSD we dealt with and we lived a lot of the first 2 years of Aidan’s life in a kind of survivor mode.  Don’t get me wrong, we have had wonderful times as a family.  But it is just recently that we have both started to let our guard down and take inventory of what an experience as scary as this was does to you.  Brandon and I are in a wonderful place again in our relationship and the idea of putting our relationship through that again makes me shiver.

Do we ever want another child?  Sometimes.  We love being parents.  Aidan is amazing.  So far, he has no significant problems lingering today from his premature beginning.  That doesn’t mean we couldn’t see some issues like ADHD surface later as it is about twice as common in preemies. 

Sometimes when we watch Aidan play alone, we feel the urge.  We think it would be nice for him to have a playmate.  But I don’t think it is essential.  Often times when he plays alone it is because he wants some space.  Brandon and I play with him a lot.  He goes to playgroups.  Sometimes Aidan will leave what he and I are playing with and just go grab a book and ”read” to himself.  I think even toddlers sometimes want their space.

Sometimes I want vindication.  I want to carry a baby to term.  I want to get big and pregnant.  I want a baby shower.  I want my husband and I to be present during our child’s delivery.  I want to breastfeed successfully.  I will admit there are times that I want a do-over.  But there are no do-overs in this realm of parenting.  We can’t change what has been by having another.  Wanting those experiences is not the right reason to have another child.  

The idea of this possibly happening again terrifies me.  It terrifies Brandon.  There are no guarantees.  Aidan and I almost died.  Period.  The idea of having another very early preemie terrifies me.  The idea of having a baby with an outcome vastly worse than Aidan’s terrifies me.  The idea of leaving Brandon to raise Aidan alone is just too much for me to bear.  Don’t get me wrong.  He could handle it.  He would do a wonderful job.  But Aidan deserves to have us both.  And more importantly, he deserves to have us as we currently are.  Happily married.  There is no guarantee that would remain the same if we had to endure something this stressful again. 

So what am I left with?  I have been thinking about this a lot.  I am left with *gratitude*. 

• I am grateful I didn’t die in that OR. 
• I am grateful my son is alive. 
• I am grateful my son is a vibrant, loving, rambunctious 2 year old boy.
• I am grateful my marriage survived something that ends many.
• I am grateful for my 2 “boys”.  I have more love than any woman has a right to have. 

I was thinking of an old Elvis Presley song I love and it captures how much I love both my only son and my only love.  So to both of my “boys” (Brandon and Aidan):

“For it’s true
You are my destiny.
When you hold my hand, I understand
The magic that you do,
You’re my dream come true,
My one and only you.”