Our Story

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Here is our story...

Wyatt Harrison Potts

June 22, 2009

Saturday
We sailed past the twelfth week of pregnancy, marking the time when it was "safe" to tell people. Of course, though it was our first pregnancy and we told people almost immediately, I was quietly glad to clear the first trimester hurdle and felt secure in my pregnancy. My stomach had felt sore for about a week... growing pains, I thought. My baby bump had recently become much more pronounced, and I figured that it made sense for things to feel the way they felt since everything was shifting so rapidly. I'd had a wonderful yoga session and knew that could also explain the soreness.

Jared and I did errands, but I was feeling so lousy that I slept in the car while he ran around. I didn't think anything of it because we figured morning sickness was going to stick with me for a few more weeks.

Sunday
Sunday I passed a blood clot and we immediately called the doctor. The on-call Dr and fantastically re-assuring. Don't go to the emergency room he advised, but do rest. Stay off your feet and we will do an ultrasound first thing Monday. I rested all day Sunday noticing that the soreness of my abdomen started to come in more distinct waves.

JP was so worried; his emotions also came in waves. I told him "I have a good feeling in my bones--don't worry." "Pregnancy is not for the faint of heart," he mused.

Monday, June 22
I woke up around 2 a.m. with the same feelings, did my usual mid-night run to the bathroom and went back to sleep until about 5 a.m. Looking back, the pains started to feel a bit more cramp-like, but with the appointment coming up, I wasn't worried. Soon we would know what was going on.

In my sleepy state, I commented to Jared that our little bugger was awfully mischievous and I thought him to be a boy, a crazy cowboy spirit I said. We should name him Wyatt. This wasn't the first time I'd talked about names in a half-sleep state!

Jared rubbed my back as we tried to get some rest and pass time until the doctors office opened. Soon, we got up and headed in. My cramps were about 5 minutes apart.

Our doctor was on vacation so we saw the doctor on call. Anxious to see the ultrasound, I quickly explained my symptoms. Soon enough a beautiful (and very active!) profile came onto the screen and the doctor exclaimed "He is alive and looks very healthy." All the measurements were right on, there was a strong, steady, (and fast) heartbeat, and the little wonder gave us a few waves that were picture perfect from the position he was in. What a relief!

It turns out I had a sub-chorionic hemorrhage, or small amount of blood gathered between the placenta and uterus, that was causing the cramping--or so we thought. Its size and location indicated that we were in the clear. Relieved, we were sent on our way with high hopes and orders for bed rest until the hemorrhage cleared.

I puked once before getting in the car (everytime I got sick, we were so happy because at one point our Dr had said that this was a "healthy" sign, so despite feeling lousy physically, I was relieved and we got in the car and went home to bed.

I contacted work and let them know I'd be resting. Jared set me up with snacks, liquids, books and my laptop, and we went back and forth a bit on whether he should stay home. "No, go ahead," I said, "I'm going to try to sleep."

In between email hand-offs to co-workers, I felt a few really strong cramps come and go. OK, I thought, the hemorrhage must just be working its way out. As I was winding out of work mode, my water broke. "Clearly, I have just wet my bed" I thought. "Sheesh, pregnancy is so weird." I didn't think for a second that I was going into labor--I was still on the bed rest program and hadn't I just been assured everything would be ok?

This is where things started to go really fast and really slow.

I stood up and rushed to the bathroom, looking down to see a thick stream of blood follow me there. I sat on the toilet and looked down to see how much blood I'd lost (a lot). I sat there and felt what I thought was another clot (this one much bigger) pass. I looked down again, and it was a live fetus, still attached to its umbilical cord. Completely unprepared for what I saw (it looked like an alien), I will never forget the scream / cry / anguished yelp I let out. I'm sure it was the most primal feeling I will ever experience.

I had two conflicting thoughts. I was torn between wanting to save him and knowing there was just no way. Crazy but true, I even wondered if I could put the small body in glass that held our toothbrushes and run to the hospital. I also thought maybe I needed to nurse him--isn't that what you did after you gave birth? As I said, every thought came and went quickly and none of them were logical. I felt completely panicked, but then almost as quickly... a sense of calm.

I picked up the fetus and though I didn't look closely, I knew at once it was a boy. He was alive and filled the space of my palm from the tip of my middle finger to my wrist. He moved his tiny hands as he'd done during the ultrasound. Though his eyes were fused shut, I could see them adjusting to the light. His mouth opened and closed a number of times and his expression was as sweet and peaceful as can be.

At that moment, I became a mother. My love for him--this tiny life I barely knew--became way bigger than any sense of loss or anguish I was feeling. I told him how much we loved him, that it was ok for him to go and that I would help him get to his next place. And, then he stopped moving.

Instantly, a phone appeared in my hand (I am sure I didn't think to grab it on my way to the bathroom, but there it was). I called Jared and cried that we had lost our baby. I called the doctor and said I didn't know what to do. For some reason, I called 911 last. Jared quickly arrived and I heard him run through the house. I was still on the toilet but tried to hold the door closed because I knew he would be upset. I told him that it was going to be hard to see. Of course he didn't care and barged in. He looked and sobbed and we hugged and I left him in the bathroom (for some reason) to find 3 or 4 firemen standing in our wide open front door, an ambulance arriving behind them.

Side note: At the time, I was keenly aware of how completely awkward it was to greet a crew of firemen in my half-naked state. I know they have seen more traumatic situations and it did not phase them. I, on the other hand, have not seen very many traumatic situations and for a slow strange moment, I honestly felt like I had to entertain them somehow. Just as quickly, the moment passed, they did their thing, cut the umbilical cord and put the tiny body in a paper bag. As the elder fireman cleaned me up, I remember wondering why miscarriages generally seemed to happen in toilets and trying to figure out what the better location would be.

Jared rode with me in the ambulance, holding my hand. After weeks of rain, I could see the blue sky. I heard myself narrating each thought, "Oh, the sky is blue, and here we are in the ambulance. We just lost our baby. This is happening."

The stay in the emergency room went as expected. Laying there I passed more blood than I thought possible. I don't recall being worried about my condition, I was more concerned about Jared whose heart seemed to be breaking before my eyes. And that sweet tiny face that I couldn't get out of my head.

Soon, I had the after-birth, followed by an emergency D&C. The only thing I'd ever heard about the procedure was from a friend who'd had one go terribly wrong, ended up scarring and was unable to conceive again. As the Dr. was getting set up, I asked about the risks associated with the procedure, and he snapped "We'll talk about the future in the future. For now, I am trying to save you." I hadn't considered the amount of blood I'd lost and felt incredibly helpless.

The hospital chaplin came in and asked us if we wanted to pray. In the middle of the ER, this felt like a hollow offer though of course it wasn't and it would have been a fine time to pray. Instead, I ended up distracting myself by listening to Jared babble about how he hadn't been to church in a long time and he was sorry and on and on. This is not characteristic of him which made the whole scene oddly amusing.

***

Jared and I took a week off and worked in our garden. Strangely, a hummingbird would visit us every day. We'd never seen it before, and we only saw it occasionally after that week. I am not claiming that Wyatt's spirit took on an avian form, or any such thing (although...). But, I do find it comforting to think of the hummingbird as a reminder of the tiny fleeting life that made me a mother.

Little Warrior

Today we went to the crematorium. Yes, crematorium. Isn't that weird? It was an out-of-body experience to be there picking out a tiny urn for Wyatt. I want to do a small ceremony for him when we go backpacking in August.

Anyway, we went to this place, which was impossible to find. I woke up feeling out of sorts and exhausted and looking back seemed to play the part of "quiet person who lost their baby" just because I didn't know what else to do and the whole thing was surreal. JP was great and he was all about business and honestly made the trip happen, because otherwise, I would have caved though it was something I'd really wanted.

So. We were there and the place looked stale and very dated. There was a (much) older woman who must have volunteered there for hundreds years. Everything smelled kind of stale. This lady was nice enough but not completely sympathetic (still trying to figure out how people act around this type of thing). She walked us through all of the paperwork and then said that we could spend some time alone picking out the type of urn we would like. We immediately walked over to the tiny pill box sized vessels and she said, "Oh no, you should look at the next size up." (The size of a small salt or pepper shaker).

"Oh," I said, "what are these tiny ones for then?" thinking is there a smaller being that would be cremated? She replied cheekily, "Those are just in case you want a piece of grandma!"

So, we tried to find something in the proper size that didn't--in Jared's words--resemble an Easter egg. We got a simple silver urn with a subtle pattern on it and called it good.

Then we paid and Jared detached himself from my side--I just realized how glued together I have felt to him the past few days--and headed to the rest room leaving me and the Crematorium lady to sit in silence together, she at her desk and me in a chair placed awkwardly far from her desk, making small talk challenging. Not that I wanted it, but still.

She looked up at me over her spectacles, and said gently:

"Do you know what the name Wyatt means?"

I shook my head no.

"Little Warrior" she replied, her eyes twinkling.

And with that, Jared came out of the bathroom and we headed out. The moment between me and the Crematorium lady was over, but now that I know this, his name seems an even better fit--if only as a reminder to be strong when I need it.

The Way We Grieve

Last night, a friend picked me up for a little ice cream cheer. It goes without saying that it is extremely hot here in the desert (and stays light out ridiculously late), so we close up our house, drawing the blinds and battening down the hatches to ward off the sun.

When my friend came to the door, my immediate reaction was to explain that the house was dark because it was hot out. I felt overwhelmingly self-conscious and aware of what our grief might look like to others. I felt the need to show that we are ok and to protect others from any darkness that might be lurking. These days I feel so incredibly vulnerable--from exhaustion, from the physical act of losing the baby and of course, from crying so much.

Explaining away the darkness made me think of how rarely we let other people see our uglies. I was surprised at how afraid I was that people would run from a situation that is hard to talk about. I am scared to be isolated within it and crave the light, seek out the sun and insist on finding the strength in others and their love.

Thankfully we are taking time to really feel the depths of this. I know we need to welcome the dark days and bad feelings to get through it.

So, despite the tears, we laugh.
Despite the sinking waves of grief, we float.

Despite the fact that every other frappin person seems to be pregnant, we snuggle our friend's babies and share in their exciting news.

And mostly, despite the darkness we can still feel the light.

Prognosis

We had our last doctors appointment to review test results and are so happy and relieved to know that I am 100% healthy, our baby was 100% healthy, and there aren't any unusual risks or concerns for future pregnancies.

The prognosis was Chorioamnionitis, a rare infection that couldn't be prevented, detected, or treated. Dr. thinks that the subchorionic hemmorrhage weakened the placental membrane making me more susceptible to infection which makes sense.

The doctors constantly referred to our situation as a "fluke" throughout this experience, something that was really difficult to hear while we were looking for answers. Especially because every detail of pregnancy is scrutinized and over-explained (see getting rid of pregnancy books). There are so many tests and tests to verify tests. So, to say our experience was a "fluke" feels very casual and off-handed. Now that we're back to our regular routines it's hard to believe this happened at all.

Unfolding

"I want to unfold. I don't want to stay folded anywhere, because where I stay folded, there I am a lie." -Rilke

This week I've been nowhere except for in bed resting, soaking up sun and healing in the garden where I had the rare opportunity to watch this cone flower open.

Each day JP and I would plan simple walks in the foothills and each day, instead we would gravitate to our gardens and work side-by-side riding out the "waves" as they came. This has been one of the biggest comforts. Plus our yard is looking seriously awesome right now!

Loved Ones,

We are so sad to share that yesterday, we lost our sweet promise of a baby. The past few days have been an unexpected rollercoaster and yesterday around 10:30 I went into very early pre-term labor at home and suffered a miscarriage. We were at 15 weeks.

We share this news with big and hopeful hearts for the future and thank you for all of your good spirit and company along the way. Because this is such a profound loss right now, we very much feel the need to talk about it and acknowledge this part of our journey and as such wanted to get the word out as quickly as possible. We are happy to talk about it; please don't feel shy!

Much love,
H & J

Us at 14 Weeks

We celebrated Jared's first Father's Day in McCall and my tummy seemed to pop out for the occasion! He got the Adventures of Curious George Collection. We ate well, hiked along the river and I slept and took a lot tubs while Jared read A Child Is Born to me. It was so nice to be away. I've been feeling pretty blah and am happy to have cleared the first trimester--hopefully I'll feel better soon!

Guest House

Before I knew I was pregnant, I had an appointment with my acupuncturist. After our typical check-in, she asked about my concerns and very off-handedly, I mentioned that I was a little bit late for my period, though I wasn't surprised since we just got back from our trip.

She checked my pulse and looked at my tongue (business as usual) but then gave me a different treatment than usual. It didn't click until I was on my way home, and I wondered for a second, "If" and then... "Nah!" Well, she knew I was pregnant before we did but hadn't wanted to get our hopes up which I can really appreciate.

Anyway, a month later I sat down in the same office, smiling ear to ear. And she smiled ear to ear. And then we jumped up and down! I said, "You knew!" and she knew.

She said she had been thinking for a while about the type of treatment she wanted to share with me throughout my pregnancy (how awesome is she?) and described "jing". I know a bit about acupuncture (thanks to you!) but had never heard of jing, only qi, or "vital energy". Jing is basically one's essence. So, she was going to treat points that would (in her words) "make the baby more of who he or she already is". She went on to say that this didn't mean "prettier", or "smarter" of course, just more of him or herself.

This blew me away. I was so touched by the simplicity and beauty of this concept. Couldn't we all stand to be more of who we are?

Now, this I am not 100% on, but as I remember it, she looked up jing and literally translated, it means "guest house".

I have never been a guesthouse before! I love that idea. After telling my friend about this experience she was reminded of the following quote, which again bowled me over. I am so easily "bowledoverable" these days.

"Your children are not your children they are the sons and daughters of life's longing for itself. They come through you but not from you..." The Prophet

Heartbeat

The foothills are blanketed with Bachelor's Buttons. Heaven...

Dr. appointment and happy we are at 12 weeks (2% chance of miscarriage). We heard the baby's heartbeat for the first time! I have never heard a sound so sweet and so sure. It is strong, steady, and still on the fast side.

No more pregnancy books.

Today I traded in my pregnancy books. I'd gotten a few of the classics - What to Expect When You're Expecting (awful!), Mayo Clinic (much better), and a Baby Name book that I can't think of the title for. I immediately devoured them upon purchase and referred back pretty religiously, until... totally contrary to my nature, I started to worry about every little thing. Am I spotting too much? "It could be normal", "You should be concerned." Am I showing too soon? "It could be because you are petite", "It could be because you are gassy." And of course looking for answers on the internet is a really slippery slope into paranoia--too much information. AHHH!

What I realized is that my experience is unique to me. I have an innate understanding of what is happening to my body and I was starting to doubt--no lose--my intuition and the fun spirit of this journey. So, out the books went with the exception of my favorite, A Child Is Born. This one captures the magic! Soon I will post ultrasounds and maybe even comparison photos from this book--they are pretty spectacular. The book also summarizes the baby's development week by week. No wonder pregnancy is so tiring--something new is happening every day!

8.5 Weeks

And, here is! The little being, right here. "It" has graduated into an official fetus and is the size of a large strawberry. Life is sweet.

Yesterday we met Dr. West who will be joining us on this adventure. He is as laid back as they come and we really like him.

As I was getting my ultrasound, you could see a very fast heart rate and the area where the brain lives (the dark spot). Dr. West told us that if you are into wives tales, fast heart rates mean you are having a girl. Jared actually dreamt that it would be a boy. When asked what the dream was like, it was pretty straight forward: "Oh, well, we went to the Dr., they did an ultrasound, and we could all clearly see it was a boy!" So, there you go.

We want to find out what we are having and should know in early August. Usually weeks go by so quickly, but since finding out it seems like time has slowed to a crawl.

Most important, Dr. West told us everything looks very good and that our chances of miscarriage have dropped to below 5%. As I was laying on the table having the ultrasound. I let out what must have been a cross between a sigh, a laugh, and a cry! I hadn't realized I was so worried about that possibility.

Happy Mother's Day!

Dear Mom,
This year I can't help thinking about motherhood in a new way. From one lilac thief to another, and though it is still early, I feel lucky to join your special ranks. You have been an amazing example of what it means to be a mother and I can't wait to share this experience with you.

There is so much that seems scary and wonderful--really just bigger than me. Even though I know it wasn't easy (I'm sure it often sucked actually), looking back, I mostly remember grace. You always made sure we had fun and felt loved. We did and we still do. I can't wait to pass our traditions and loves on to this little one--your GRANDBABY!

I love you so much and can't wait to celebrate with you in a couple of weeks.

Holly

The City Goes Bloom

Today I took my camera for a walk. It felt so good to have the sun on my face again and watch the city come to life. It felt like I was walking around with the best kind of secret.

Excitement

During the Spring equinox we planted our cool crops. Mesclun mix, butter lettuce, carrots, peas, kale, and spinach. Turns out I was pregnant during our honeymoon, which explains the sleepy days.

After getting back from San Francisco, I was late for my period but figured it was from traveling. Jared "had a feeling" though and we walked to the store to get some milk and a pregnancy test. Bumping into each other with exitement, Stoli, Jared and I gathered in the bathroom awaiting the results. First test? Positive! Second test? Positive! Due date? December 16th, my birthday.

It's funny... I was so sure I would know I was pregnant the moment it happened. No idea. Jared seems to be the one with intuition in this department. And so begins our journey of humbling surprises.

Honeymooners