How did we get here?

Isn't that a really good freaking question? How the eff did we get here?

Most family and friends already know my story. But if you don't, let's start with that:

In July of 2020, Trevor and I decided we were ready for me to come off my birth control after being on it for over 10 years. We really made the decision based on a lot of factors: we're still relatively young, our parents are all still relatively young, at the time we still had the majority of our grandparents, we had just bought our house a few months prior. Really, the time was just right and we knew the likelihood of getting pregnant immediately coming off of birth control was slim.

Well, on August 28, 2020, not even one month later-I don't think I even got a period, I had a positive pregnancy test. We could not believe it. It was the night before our anniversary and I was just saying I felt really bad because I didn't do anything for Trevor this year. After showing him the positive pregnancy test he told me this was better than any gift I could possibly get for him.

My due date was estimated to be May 6, 2021.

The next day we had our family over to finally show everyone the house. The whole morning Trevor and I were internally freaking out. Everyone was drinking mimosas and I was worried someone was going to notice that I wasn't. It felt like the morning dragged on FOREVER. But, we kept it together until everyone left. After they did, we drove to Trevor's mom's house and told her. Then we went to my parents' house and told them. We got it all on video and we were all so excited. This would be the only 2 videos of us ever telling our parents about me being pregnant.

We slowly started telling people over the next few weeks. I was only 4 weeks when we found out, but my first doctor's visit went well and we saw little Baby G. When we first started telling people, we were hit with a lot of excitement, but also a lot of resistance. We had a lot of people telling us we should be waiting to announce until the 12 weeks mark. But, I never believed in a safe zone. Waiting until 12 weeks to tell people wouldn't change the outcome of a pregnancy. All it would do is force the parents to grieve alone. This is something I have always felt very strongly about. People don't want you to announce until 12 weeks in case something goes wrong. People want others to grieve in silence because it is uncomfortable for them. I've been very vocal about this since this first pregnancy.

We visited our friends in Maryland and shared the news with them. We were right around 8 weeks at this point and knew our "big" announcement was going to be soon, so we had our friends take some announcement pictures for us.

We never posted these pictures.

A few days after this trip, at about 9pm, I went to the bathroom and had a single drop of blood in my underwear. At that moment I knew I would not be meeting this baby.

The next day, my doctor squeezed me in and everything looked good. Baby was still growing and the heartrate was strong. But, he wanted to see me again 3 days later for a follow up. 3 days later, on Friday, when I was exactly 9 weeks pregnant, I walked into the office alone. Covid rules were still going strong and I was not allowed to have Trevor with me and because everything was fine 3 days prior and we were very naïve to bad pregnancy outcomes, Trevor stayed home. It was at this appointment that I heard "there is no heartbeat" for the first time. I begged them to be wrong. There had to be a heartbeat. This couldn't happen to me. I asked for a follow up sonogram the following Monday, but in my heart I knew there was no point.

A missed miscarriage. 1 in 4 women will have a miscarriage or experience the loss of their baby. After seeing the heartbeat, it drops to 10%. A missed miscarriage only happens in 1-5% of pregnancies. Uncommon. And yet, here I was. Most likely a fluke, sometimes these things happen, often these early miscarriages will happen because the baby would not have been able to survive anyway. These are all things people in the doctor's office said to me.

I can still see the excitement on Trevor's face when he opened the front door to greet me quickly turn to heartbreak upon seeing me crying.

Over the next few days, Trevor's grandfather died, we had our confirmation sonogram, and we scheduled my first D&C for the following Friday. Between my appointment on Monday and my surgery scheduled for Friday, we had the wake for Trevor's grandfather.

As if it wasn't painful enough that I had been sitting with my dead baby still inside me for almost a week, 10 minutes before the service, I started bleeding and had to go home. Part of me wanted to pass this baby naturally so that I didn't need to have surgery, but I didn't think I could handle it if I did. I didn't want to see the baby. I wanted this whole thing to just be over.

After my D&C that Friday, it was rough until my hormones balanced back out. I had no idea that I was going to feel the way I did. I felt completely insane as I swear I could physically feel my hormones pinging off and dying. I screamed and cried and threw things. I didn't feel in control of my emotions. I didn't want to be home. Home was a painful reminder that my home didn't have a baby in it. But, I also forced myself to not feel. I did not mourn my baby. I did not grieve the loss of my pregnancy. As soon as my hormones leveled off, I tried to not think about what happened for a whole year.

Trevor and I spent the next year focused on getting healthy. Together we lost just about 80lbs and it was healthiest I had ever been. It was the best I ever felt. Physically and mentally.

We didn't know when we were going to try again. I had no interest. I became angry when people mentioned they wanted us to have a baby, knowing what we had gone through. People would say how excited they were for us to have kids and my answer would be too bad or sucks for you. I didn't think I would ever want to try again.

The week of my supposed to be due date, was the first time I felt really sad. People at work noticed I was different. My friends kept asking if I was okay. I pulled away from people. I pulled away from Trevor. I still didn't want to be home.

It was around this time that we started going to therapy. It was something I talked about doing for years, both together and alone, but never had the courage to do it. Having Trevor with me and finding a therapist I love, really made all of the difference. A year later, we still see Suzanne.

On September 19, 2021, the day after finally having our wedding, I realized I didn't get my period and figured what the hell, let's take a test. Sure enough, positive. My predicted due date was just 2 weeks after my first one.

This is the only picture I have of myself during this pregnancy. I couldn't be excited.

I never felt excited. From the minute I saw that second line, I knew this was ending the same way. I couldn't explain why. This time, we only told our close friends and family, and the people in my classroom. I hated when people talked about my pregnancy. it made me uncomfortable because I knew this wasn't going to end well. Everyone kept telling me my last pregnancy was a fluke and that this was going to be it. The odds of having two miscarriages in a row are low.

At 6 weeks, the bleeding started. A sub chorionic hematoma apparently. the cause of about 20% of bleeding in first trimester pregnancies. I'm part of another statistic. That's all I could think. Why do bad things keep happening to me?

I continued to bleed every few days, having to take a few days off of work each time, for the next 3 weeks. I was going to my OB every few days to check on both the bleed and the baby. Which, we nicknamed Lil B. Week 8, we went and checked on the baby and the hematoma. Baby still looked good, but hematoma was still there. 3 days later, at exactly 9 weeks, we once again heard the words "there is no heartbeat".

How could this be happening again in the exact same way? Two consecutive miscarriages only happen 2% of the time. Why were my odds continuously getting worse? The only good thing is that Trevor was able to be there with me this time.

After this D&C my doctor decided we were going to start testing. Typically, you need three miscarriages in a row to start getting testing done. But, my doctor told me he didn't want to put me through another pregnancy without having some idea of what could be happening. So, we agreed to send the baby off for chromosomal testing and we each had genetic testing done.

Over the next few weeks everything came back normal, we lost a chromosomally normal baby girl. I knew it was a girl. The minute I found out I was pregnant I told Trevor it was a girl. My genetic testing was all completely normal. I didn't have a blood clotting disorder. Nothing. Physically, I was fine. But, I still had this lingering question in the back of my mind.

When I was 17, my current ob did a sonogram for some pain I was having to rule out any issues on his end. During the sonogram he had said that he might see something called a uterine septum. He said it doesn't cause any problems just being there, but that I need to get it checked out before I think about getting pregnant because it could cause issues in pregnancy. So, I got it checked twice. Once when we were in Korea and again after I moved back home in 2018. Both places I went to, told me they didn't see it, it doesn't exist. But, after this second miscarriage, I brought it up to my ob again. He said once my uterus was healed from this 2nd D&C we could schedule a scope to see if it really did exist.

Over the next few months, I developed crippling anxiety. I had always had some social anxiety and minor anxiety, but for the most part I was able to push through it. But, not anymore. I couldn't leave my house alone except to go to work. I couldn't do anything unless I was with Trevor. I started having daily panic attacks sometimes up to three times a day. I was completely incapable of regulating my emotions. Something that would normally be a minor stressor, completely threw off my entire day, sometimes my entire week. I started ordering my groceries online and having them delivered because even grocery shopping became too much. I completely become incapable of functioning.

I felt like I was grieving both of my pregnancies. Like I said, I pushed all of my feelings away the first time. But, now I felt like I was dealing with the loss of both babies all at once.

Around Christmas time, it was still getting worse. I was having panic attacks in public, mental break downs in front of family, I couldn't see or be around children without needing a xanax. I didn't know my mental health could get this bad.

We were still going to therapy every other week and none of the coping mechanisms that would previously work for me, were working anymore. My therapist and I decided it was time to give EMDR therapy a try. Basically, it's a trauma based therapy and is used often for people with ptsd. We scheduled my first EMDR for our following therapy session.

Just a few days before I was set to start, I had my third positive pregnancy test. This one was an accident. We were being careful. I knew that I was emotionally not in a place to get pregnant again, and we still had to figure out what was going on with this possible uterine septum. But, I all of a sudden felt calm.

From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I wasn't scared anymore. My anxiety completely lifted. The panic attacks stopped. We postponed the EMDR therapy. I knew that I would be meeting this baby.

At 6 weeks, I started bleeding again. Another sub chorionic hematoma. This is when my ob referred me to my high risk ob. Between me, Trevor, and the drs, we decided I needed to be on modified bed rest until the bleeding stopped, and I should stay out of work indefinitely.

Within one week the hematoma was completely cleared up and the baby was doing great. I compared ultrasound pictures between all three pregnancies and the first two babies implanted in the same spot. But not this one. This one was on the other side of my uterus. We made it past 9 weeks and still had a heart beat. We made it to the "safe zone" of 12 weeks and everyone really thought this was it.

We decided to announce this pregnancy. We knew all too well that being pregnant did not guarantee a baby and we never got the excitement of getting to share our first two babies until they were gone. I didn't want that for this one. I wanted to share this baby from the second I found out about her.

I can't even explain the excitement I had for this baby. I did not worry. I told everyone about my baby. I bought things earlier than you "should". I had bins and bins of things ready and organized by age. I took bump pics. I could not wait to have this baby.

In the last few weeks I started feeling strange. Maybe in hindsight I knew something was going to go wrong. I don't know. But, my anxiety started getting bad again. I was talking to Trevor about asking my dr for a daily anxiety medication. Any time anyone said anything about my bump, it made me uncomfortable. I started hating my body. I didn't love being pregnant-and it's something I feel incredibly guilty for now.

I made a post on facebook saying that I wish I could love being pregnant. A cousin of mine commented and told me that because of my history and because other women can't get pregnant, I should keep my thoughts to myself. Part of me now hopes she thinks about that comment every day and feels guilty for making it. Everyone is going through their own shit and no one has the right to make you feel bad for sharing your feelings about what you're going through. Especially something like pregnancy. The reason I had so many mixed emotions during my pregnancy was because of my previous trauma. But, I loved this baby more than I can put into words.

On April 29th, we had our anatomy scan. I was 19w6d. I took the day off work even though my appointment was later in the afternoon because I knew my anxiety was going to be really bad that day. Every appointment I had prior to this my blood pressure would sky rocket and they would have to take it again at the end of my appointment after I knew everything with baby was okay. White coat syndrome +PTSD.

I was so nervous that something was going to be wrong. But, I was also really excited to see our baby. I hadn't had a sonogram since I was 12 weeks and I couldn't wait to see how big the baby had gotten and find out if we were having a boy or a girl.

It's a girl.

I knew it. After everything we had been through, we really did not care either way. But, I was really happy it was a girl. After knowing that our 2nd baby was a girl, I felt like I would be just a little disappointed if it were a boy. I felt like if it was a boy, I missed out on my only opportunity to have a daughter. Because after everything, I really didn't know if this was something I wanted to do again. All feelings I am still feeling.

We announced that in September, Makenna would be gracing us with her presence.

At my anatomy scan, we had to schedule a 2nd scan because they couldn't get all of the pictures of her heart, but they said that was pretty normal and everything they could see was totally fine.

I asked to see my high risk OB to talk about the septum. She came in and made us feel at ease. She said she took a few minutes and went back and looked at all of my previous images because this septum was playing tricks on us. Sometimes it was visible, other times they couldn't find it. She said that they are really hard to diagnose while you're pregnant, but that she could definitely see it on this day. She said she really didn't think it was going to cause any issues and that she would look at it again in two weeks when I came back to finish my anatomy scan.

On May 13th, we went back for my 2nd scan.

Makenna looked so good, but there was the septum again clear as day. The dr reassured us again that she didn't think it was going to cause any problems. She said it looked relatively thin and could even break apart as my uterus continued to grow. She said we would continue to monitor it and keep checking on Makenna, but that she really thought it would be okay.

Risks with a uterine septum: growth restriction, preterm labor, breech babies.

On Monday, May 16th, I woke up in the middle of the night extremely nauseous. Now, anyone that knows me know that I will do anything to not throw up. I would cut off a foot if it prevented me from throwing up. But, I puked. I didn't really think anything of it. I had some stomach pain, but I also had nachos for dinner and kind of just laughed it off thinking Makenna does not like nachos! Looking back, I believe this was the start of everything.

I stayed home from work on Tuesday just in case I still wasn't feeling well, but I felt completely fine and went back to work on Wednesday. The whole day Wednesday I remember thinking how heavy my stomach felt all day. I had ordered a belly band a few days prior and it came that day and I was SO excited to put it on. It felt so good to have some of that weight lifted.

Around 8pm, I started getting really bad stomach cramps low below my belly button. I told Trevor something wasn't right and that we might end up in the ER if the pain didn't go away. From 8-11 pm, I was trying everything I could to get the pain to go away. Trevor walked around the house with me, he made me some plain tater tots, I drank a ton of water, I went from the bed to the couch and back to the bed. I was just thinking this had to be gas pain and it couldn't possibly be anything else.

I finally fell asleep around midnight and woke up about an hour and a half later. by 230am, we were in labor and delivery. I can't get into all of the details of what happened from here on out, because we are speaking to a lawyer and I don't want to say anything that could jeopardize what we are trying to accomplish here. But, basically I was dismissed and sent home. Thursday I saw a PA (again, don't want to discuss all of these details yet), and was sent home again.

After being told by two different medical professionals that I was fine and there was nothing to worry about, Trevor got on a plane and went to Oregon. At 230am on May 20th, I drove myself back to L&D.

I will be telling my whole story. I will not stay silent about what led up to this. Nothing can stop me from trying to prevent this from happening to another family. But, I have to wait.

On May 20, 2022, Makenna was born. The room was silent, expecting the worst. But, she let out a little squeak and breathing on her own. She received high scores for her birth and her first few minutes of life. Within a few hours, she was transferred to Cohen's hospital and I was transferred to LIJ. I cannot say enough good things about both of these hospitals. They took such good care of both me and Makenna. Cohen's did absolutely everything they could do for her and we will never forget the doctors, nurses, and staff that took care of our little girl.

After being transferred, Makenna continued to do better than expected. She had a very large team of people taking care of her and everyone was extremely honest with us about what we were up against, but everyone seemed optimistic.

Trevor finally made it around midnight and we went right to the nicu so he could meet our daughter. Saturday and Sunday was spent learning how to pump, and frequent trips over to the nicu to see Makenna. My milk came in pretty quickly and we were so excited. Mak wasn't ready to be taking milk yet, but we were excited that she wouldn't need donor milk when the time came. She was able to receive colostrum care, which is when they rub colostrum on the baby's gums for them to get the nutrients. We were told this was a big deal would help her tremendously.

On Sunday I was discharged and we were accepted into the Ronald Mcdonald house around the corner. We were trying to figure out a plan. We were thinking we would stay at Ronald McDonald for 5 days. We'd stay until she was a week old, and then we would come back every day to see her until she was well enough to come home. It feels stupid now. We should have seen how sick she was. But, we still believed more than anything that we would bringing our baby girl home.

Around 3am on Tuesday we received the call that no nicu parent ever wants to get. Things aren't looking good, you need to come over here immediately.

We got to hold our little girl for as long as we wanted, but it was too much. After a little while, they start to change and it becomes obvious they aren't there anymore. When that started to happen, we left.

We wanted nothing more than to pack up our room and go home. We didn't want to be there anymore. But, neither of us were in a state where we could drive. So, we fell asleep for a little while (barely) and left first thing in the morning.

Today marks 2 weeks since I gave birth to Makenna and sometimes it still feels so unreal. It feels like this happened to someone else and I'm just a bystander that feels horrible for this poor grieving family. I feel like I want to do something to help them. And then I'm painfully reminded that this happened to me. This is mine and Trevor's life and there is no escaping it no matter how badly I want to.

There is so much more that I want to share. But, everything just hurts so badly. I'm not okay. I can't even pretend that I am. So for now, I will leave you with a small collection of my favorite photos from Makenna's much too short life.