Something that may explain why I lost Liam.

I know I said I had posted the last about him. But it doesn’t mean that I have forgotten him or have gotten over my loss. Truth is, there’s not a single day when I don’t remember him. Not a single night when I don’t replay the scenes and events at the hospital in my head before I sleep. Not a single instance when his memories do not bring tears to my eyes.

Right now, as you’ve probably noticed in my recent posts, I’m fussing over my enlarged thyroid, which prompted me to research more about it. And the more I research, the more I realize the correlation between thyroid disorder and pregnancy, and the risks it poses to the unborn child.

Somehow, it points to the fact that this thyroid disorder might have caused my baby to develop undetected respiratory problems, which could further explain why he wasn’t able to survive despite the ventilator and medications administered to him. Or why he passed meconium inside my tummy in the first place.

I have mentioned before that I’ve always had a slightly bulging neck and hinted that I may already have a thyroid disorder even before I got pregnant, which has worsened during the course of my pregnancy.

The thyroid gland enlarges slightly in healthy women during pregnancy, but not enough to be detected by a physical exam. A noticeably enlarged gland can be a sign of thyroid disease and should be evaluated. Higher levels of thyroid hormone in the blood, increased thyroid size, and other symptoms common to both pregnancy and thyroid disorders-such as fatigue-can make thyroid problems hard to diagnose in pregnancy.

…

Subclinical hypothyroidism — a mild form of hypothyroidism that has no apparent symptoms. Subclinical hypothyroidism occurs in two to three of every 100 pregnancies. [SOURCE]

If I did, these were the possible effects on my pregnancy and my baby:

Significantly more placental abruptions (relative risk [RR], 3.0; 95% CI, 1.1-8.2), deliveries prior to 34 weeks (RR, 1.8; 95% CI, 1.1-2.9), and respiratory distress syndrome (RR, 1.8; 95% CI, 1.0-3.3) were found in the SCH group. These differences persisted after controlling for maternal age, race, and abruption. [SOURCE]

The function test result during the first month of my pregnancy showed a normal-high TSH and normal-low TS3 and TS4.

Test results will show high levels of TSH and normal free T₄ [for subclinical hypothyroidism]… High levels of TSH and low levels of free T4 generally indicate hypothyroidism. Because of normal pregnancy-related changes in thyroid function, test results must be interpreted with caution.

But the doctor thought nothing of it. I couldn’t blame him though, because I didn’t tell him I was pregnant. I didn’t realize it might have an effect.

If subclinical hypothyroidism is discovered during pregnancy, treatment is recommended to help ensure a healthy pregnancy. [SOURCE]

Because the symptoms of hypothyroidism are almost similar to pregnancy-related complaints, I wasn’t aware then that something might be wrong. But now that I’m no longer pregnant, the symptoms are more apparent:

Hypothyroidism signs and symptom may include:

Fatigue
Sluggishness
Increased sensitivity to cold
Constipation
Pale, dry skin
A puffy face
Hoarse voice
An elevated blood cholesterol level
Unexplained weight gain
Muscle aches, tenderness and stiffness
Pain, stiffness or swelling in your joints
Muscle weakness
Heavier than normal menstrual periods
Brittle fingernails and hair
Depression

[SOURCE]

Nine of those symptoms reflect how I’m feeling since I gave birth until now; fatigue, muscle aches and joint paints most notably. And there’s actually another condition that I’m looking into — postpartum thyroiditis — which could explain the lump in my throat.

Postpartum thyroiditis — a painless inflammation of the thyroid gland that develops within the first year after childbirth — often lasts from several weeks to several months. For some women, postpartum thyroiditis leads to long-term underactive thyroid (hypothyroidism).

…

For the majority of women, thyroid function eventually returns to normal. However, some women who develop postpartum thyroiditis develop hypothyroidism and require lifelong thyroid hormone replacement therapy. Because hypothyroidism presents a significant risk to developing babies, it’s important to make sure the condition is under control before attempting another pregnancy. [SOURCE]

These are only speculations based on a cursory online research. I will still consult with an endocrinologist to know exactly what type of thyroid disorder do I have and if indeed  it had an effect on my baby.

I know getting the facts now will no longer bring Liam back, but at least, I will be more knowledgeable of my condition and prevent unfortunate consequences, if and when God blesses me with another pregnancy in the future.

Four to be exact.

One square silk scarf.

Two long ones in sheer printed cotton fabric.

And one that is a little frilly and fancy — a sheer animal print fabric with these cute dangling embroideries.

But I haven’t used any of them.

When I got home, I immediately searched for scarf how-to videos on YouTube and went crazy trying the ones I like. I was all excited, like I am about to start a new life, and D just looked at me, a little weirded out. Summer has just started and he couldn’t believe that I’m serious about wearing a scarf despite the hot — scorching hot weather.

And I thought I was.

The other day, I needed to deposit a cheque (my SSS maternity claims) to my bank account and decided to wear a scarf. After a number tossing and tying and tucking, I opted to wear it like a headband, and wrapped the remaining length around my neck. I thought I had the perfect look — a little too put together than I usually am, but I thought I could carry it.

Until D came into the room and criticized how my scarf looked so inappropriate for the temperature outside, which was 33⁰ C. I pointed to him the reason why I’m making this bold fashion change, the growing bulge in my throat, and he said that it isn’t as obvious as I think it is. He added that the more I cover it, the more I will draw attention to it.

I know IT IS big enough to be obvious, and he’s only saying that it’s not so I would lose the scarf around my neck.

It’s so frustrating. That our weather is not suitable for wearing scarf. That I need to cover my neck in the first place. I was  tearing up, as I look at myself in the mirror, feeling helpless because either way, with a scarf or a bare neck,  I know I WILL draw attention to myself. And I hate that I’m so worried about what people would think.

In the end, I decided to go with a naked neck and expose the lump for all the world to see. But regretted it, half way through the bank.

I wished I was braver and bolder.

I’m not really choosy when it comes to ringtones and I’m perfectly okay with the presets that came with my cellphone. Although I admit that when I hear a customized ringtone, especially if it’s unique — something that stands out from the rest, I’d often wish mine is customized as well. But no obnoxious and offensive stuff for me. I’ll most likely settle for ringtones from my favorite songs. Or sounds and recordings, like a recording of a dialogue or a sound effect from my favorite movie.

And there’s this particular song, Ikaw at Ako — which I mentioned and posted a video of in this post, that I want to make into a ringtone. And if possible, I want to assign it to D’s number, so whenever he calls, the song will play. I’m not sure if my phone, which is an old and obsolete model, can do that though. (I told you, I’m not particularly into ringtones and not exactly tech savvy when it comes to cellphones).

So I tried just that, using this site: Mobile17 to convert an MP3 file of the song into a ringtone. It was very easy, all you need is to upload the audio file to the site. You will have to register though in order to access your uploads. You can then download it to your phone, as long as it’s smaller than 450KB. Unfortunately, my uploaded file size is too large to be sent to my phone, so no customized ringtone yet. I’ll probably edit the song to play only the chorus and try again.

Hmm, I wonder if I can pull it off. Wearing a scarf.

{Source}

I need to cover my neck — if you’re asking why. Sad to say, something came out during my pregnancy. Something that’s probably been laying dormant inside me for a long time and was only triggered by my crazed hormones then. Well, according to research, this type of disorder, if you have it, really has the tendency to come out during pregnancy, like gestational diabetes and UTI. I’m talking about thyroid disorder.

As far as I can remember, I’ve always had a slightly swollen neck. But it didn’t bother me, not even when I get asked occasionally if I have goiter. Until I got pregnant.

On my first maternity month, I accompanied my mother to a doctor to have her aching back checked. The doctor noticed my neck and asked me if he can examine it.  He ordered some blood work (function test), and when the test came out normal (within the standard range), he then ordered a throat ultrasound.

The ultrasound result was a bit vague. The report said there were no nodules or cystic mass seen in my throat but a parenchymal disease was noted. Even the doctor couldn’t interpret it clearly so he gave me a request for a throat scan. However, when I was told that a throat scan involves radioactive treatment, I decided to postpone the procedure until after I gave birth.

But since then, the swelling has progressed and now there’s an obvious lump at the lower part of my neck, which is making uncomfortable and conscious when I notice people looking at it, and why I want to cover it with a scarf.

In my previous post, I briefly mentioned that I was supposed to see a doctor, an endocrinologist, but she isn’t available until March 10. I also scheduled an appointment with another endocrinologist, which is actually today, but was cancelled. I was advised to call the clinic again for a reschedule. But I think I’ll just wait for the 1st endocrinologist to resume her consultation on March 10.

Anyway, whoever I end up consulting with , I know the swelling won’t recede right away. I learned through cursory research that thyroid problems require long-term treatments. So I really need to get used to the idea of a scarf-wrapped neck. It won’t be an everyday thing though, as I only plan to cover my neck when I go out of the house, which is not very often. But still, I want to be able to wear it comfortably, and if possible, fashionably, and not look awkward and stupid with a piece cloth wrapped around my neck.

Thank God for Pinterest, Google Image Search and YouTube, all wealthy sources of scarf ideas. I’m hoping to make a purchase soon. Let’s see if I can really pull it off.

In the meantime, just watch this cool video. I didn’t realize there are many ways to wear a scarf. Cute.

It was a surprise. We were at the mall yesterday because I was supposed to go to the doctor and have my throat checked (hooray for ambulatory clinics at malls). But she was out and won’t be back until March 10. It was too early to go home, and besides, it’s Valentines, so we thought it might be worth our while to have a look around.

But I said I’ll go to the comfort room first. And he said he will, too. A few minutes later, when I thought that he’s already waiting for me outside, I came out and he’s nowhere to be found. I couldn’t call him on his phone because I ran out of credits. I decided to wait there thinking that he might still be inside. Or if he’s not, I knew that he’d be back anyway.

But after a few more minutes, there’s no sign of him yet. I found it strange because he usually waits for me whenever I go to the comfort room, no matter how long it takes. I was getting bored so I decided to walk around and look for him. I passed by an area where booths selling flowers and other gift items were gathered and I thought how wonderful it would be if I find him there, buying me some flowers. But he’s not there.

I felt a little pissed because I have no idea where he went and I didn’t want to wander aimlessly looking for him. So I just went to the nearest call card station to end my frustration. That’s when my phone rang. He’s calling.

I asked him where he is and why he left me. He said he’s just wandering around. He hasn’t done that before but I didn’t pry anymore as I wasn’t in the mood to ask questions. I just told him where I am and he said that he’d come right away. But he’s taking some time to get to me and I was getting impatient, having to wait again for the second time. I was beginning to wonder where could he be and what was he up to.

Then finally, I felt a tap on my shoulder and when I looked around, there he was standing behind me, carrying a bouquet of roses on one hand and a box of chocolates on the other. *Smiles*

To D: Thank you for trying and for proving to me, whenever you have a chance to, that you not only want things to return to normal, but for everything to be better. Thank you for yesterday. We may have lost our baby, but you were able to win US back. I love you always.

Our wedding anniversary was last January 30, but I only saw this image last night, after I asked if he can copy some files over to my Shared Documents folder. He’s not really the type who will do this kind of stuff — you know, sneaking in to my computer, cellphone or any personal belongings just to leave a message — so I guess he’s learning. Sweetness 101.

Lovelier of lovely things are they

On this earth that soonest pass away.

The rose that lives its little hour

is prized beyond the sculptured flower.

– William C. Bryant

This might be the last time that I will write about our little angel Liam. It’s not that I have stopped mourning for him — I believe mothers, in general, do not really get over the loss of a child. Nor do I want to forget about him — memories are all I have, why would I want to be rid of them? But sad as I am about what happened, I have accepted that it happened according to God’s plan and eventually I have to get out of the grieving phase and move on with my life. And I believe that’s what he wants me to do, as well.

Our sweet angel Liam will always be in my heart and I will never stop loving and missing him.

When people ask why I didn’t take a picture of Liam, I tell them that I don’t want to be reminded of how he struggled for his life at the NICU and what he looked like with all the machines connected to him. And I certainly don’t want to take a picture of him after he died.

So the only “pictures” that I have of him are these ultrasound scans that were taken when he was still inside me. At least in these photos, he was well and alive.

Liam @ 5 Weeks

Liam @ 7 weeks

Liam @ 13 weeks

Liam @ 22 weeks

These are the only visual proof I have that show that for 39 weeks, however short that may seem, I became a mother. I miss you so much Baby Liam.

Today, our angel Liam would’ve been a month old already and I can’t help but think about all the “would’ve been’s” that we would’ve been doing or would’ve done if he was with us. Maybe, if he was with us, I would be too busy taking care of him and wouldn’t have the time to write this post.

But as life would have it, I have so much time on my hands right now. And often, I don’t know what to do with it. A few months back, I was preparing myself for a life of breastfeeding, diapering and sleepless nights; all my plans had been about what to do when baby is here. It didn’t cross my mind that I would need a plan on what to do when there is no baby.

What to do to ease the pain? What to do to fill in this huge void that suddenly grew at the core of my being? What to do with more than 9 months worth of memories? What to do with the longing? with the questions? with the days when I couldn’t understand why things happened the way they did?

Last night, someone shared this poem and I just broke down reading it. I could imagine our baby Liam talking to me through the words in this poem. And it made me  realize how much I miss him and how badly I’m longing for him.

What Makes a Mother?

I thought of you and closed my eyes
And prayed to God today
I asked “What makes a Mother?”
And I know I heard him say

A Mother has a baby
This we know is true

But, God, can you be a mother
When your baby’s not with you?

“Yes, you can”, he replied
With confidence in his voice
“I give many women babies
When they leave it is not their choice
Some I send for a lifetime
And others for the day
And some I send to feel your womb
But there’s no need to stay.”

I just don’t understand this God
I want my baby here

He took a breath
and cleared his throat
And then I saw a tear
I wish I could show you
What your child is doing today
If you could see your child smile
With other children and say

“We go to earth to learn our lessons
of love and life and fear
My mommy loved me so much
I got to come straight here
I feel so lucky to have a Mom who had so much love for me
I learned my lessons very quickly
My mommy set me free.

I miss my mommy oh so much
But I visit her each day
When she goes to sleep
On her pillows where I lay
I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek
And whisper in her ear
Mommy don’t be sad today
I’m your baby and I am here”

So you see my dear sweet one
Your children are okay
Your babies are here in My home
And this is where they’ll stay
They’ll wait for you with Me
Until your lessons are through
And on the day you come home
they’ll be at the gates for you

So now you see
What makes a Mother
It’s the feeling in your heart
It’s the love you had so much of
Right from the very start
Though some on earth
May not realize
Until their time is done
Remember all the love you have
And know that you are
A Special Mom

– Author Unknown

During my entire pregnancy, I endured a number of pains. Physical pain, mental anguish, emotional stress – I experienced them all in various forms and levels. But if given a chance, I’ll gladly go through it again, even bear twice as much pain — if I only can ensure that at the end of my pregnancy, I will have my baby boy with me. Because nothing can compare to the kind of pain I felt when I lost him.

Now, I understand how giving birth to a child feels like growing another limb on your body. And when the child dies, the limb becomes severed and the part where it was once will ache forever. It is a tormenting ache, a longing ache that reeks in your waking hours and seeps in your dreams. It won’t let you go.

The first time I saw Liam, he was in a bassinet at the farthest side of the NICU. Two machines were connected to his body through his mouth and left hand, and an IV drip on his right foot. He was sedated so he wouldn’t be agitated and resist the ventilator connected through his mouth. He looked normal, healthy and plump, except for the labored and mechanical heaving of his chest. He got my lips, my nose, my complexion. D, who saw him right after he was born, said he got my eyes, too.

Although a turmoil was raging inside me, I was weeping quietly. I thought to myself how painful it is to finally see Liam but not be able to cradle him in my arms. I wanted to remove all the contraptions on his body and hold him. I wanted to believe that a mother’s touch has magical healing powers and will be able to ease his pain. But all I could do was watch him and whisper a prayer to God to save his life.

The second time I saw him was more intense. It was after his Neonatologist told us that his condition has worsened. We rushed to the NICU at 6 a.m. to see him. The doctor gave me the permission to touch him for the first time and said that I should talk to him. His skin felt so soft and smooth to my touch it was breaking my heart into tiny pieces. In between sobs, I tried to talk to him, to tell him that we [mama and papa] love him and asked him if he can fight some more because we are waiting for him. I also said sorry — sorry for everything, sorry for his suffering, sorry that we can’t do anything about it. Then, in my silent prayer, I lifted him up to God and told Him that I’m letting go and letting Him take over – Thy will be done.

Before we left, I told Liam that we’ll be back to see him again. But I didn’t know that that would be the last time we will see him alive.

The third time I saw him was a few minutes after his death. This time his body was already free of machines. He looked like he was still sleeping, but there’s something lifeless about him. I was afraid to touch him at first, afraid that he’d feel cold and dead to my touch. But every sinew in my body was yearning to hold him so I did what I’ve been wanting to do since they shouted “baby out” at the operating room: I cradled him in my arms for the first time.

The feeling was overwhelming yet very, very painful. It felt surreal to hold him, to kiss his forehead, to gently squeeze his tiny hands. Maybe my wits had gone out of me for a moment, because I still hoped that his eyes would open, even for just a second, to look at me; or he would cry, because I didn’t hear him cry when I gave birth to him.

I didn’t know how long our mother-son bonding lasted. When D told me it’s enough and he was taking Liam from me, I refused to let go. I wanted to hold him until the warmth of his body give way to the coldness of death. I wanted to hold him. Just hold him.

The fourth and last time I saw him, he was on the other side of the viewing glass at the crematorium.

December 19, 2011

4:30 a.m.

I was on epidural but awake as they performed a C-section operation on me to deliver my baby. I heard somebody, probably my OB, said, ”baby’s out”. The anesthesiologist beside me told me the same, that I’ve officially given birth to a baby boy at 4:30 a.m.

I wasn’t sure if it was mother’s instinct or the effect of the anesthesia or the tension of learning that my baby has passed meconium while still inside me, but I started saying out loud, “I want to hold my baby.” They were saying something but I didn’t seem to hear it. I just kept saying, “I want to hold my baby.” Over and over again that they decided to put me to sleep because I seemed delirious.

Now, I know it was mother’s instinct. Subconsciously, I knew something was wrong with my baby and I wanted to be able to hold him while he’s still alive.