I had another appointment with my OB yesterday. It was a pretty routine visit – I had to have some repeat bloodwork done, and they also took my weight, blood pressure, did a urine test, and heard baby’s heartbeat. She had a bit of a tricky time finding it because Baby K is hiding out low and far to the back, but she did eventually get it, guessing it to be somewhere in the 150s.
The actual consultation with my OB brought up some unexpected news. Their request to expedite Brock’s autopsy was approved, and we finally had the full report to go through. My OB went through everything with us thoroughly, commenting that a lot of the ‘anomalies’ that showed up either meant nothing at all or were consistent with the fact he’d died at least a couple of days prior to his birth (which, of course, we already knew). At the end, the summary said what I already knew, but was still amazingly hard to see in writing: no further markers came up to suggest anything wrong with him or me, and, in all likelihood, his death was absolutely related to his cord. If not for that, he would have been perfectly fine.
It was what we’d fully expected to hear, and it was still totally heartbreaking to see on paper. I’d almost hoped that they would come back with something new and tell me that he’d been doomed regardless. Hell, I would still almost prefer than something had been wrong with me. I knew neither of those things were likely to be the case, but I feel like they would have been easier to swallow. I wanted to close the book on all this and have something that might give me the power to forgive my midwife, and even though I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to get it, knowing for sure now that I have to keep being mad really, really sucks.
I am trying to see the positive side of things – at least this lets me rest a little easier with my current pregnancy, knowing that the odds of losing this baby as well are very low. I’m healthy, Brock was healthy, and the occurrence of cord accidents is actually extremely low. We got very, very unlucky. My OB was even nice enough to give us a quick peace-of-mind ultrasound, and our little guy/gal is looking pretty happy in there – they even gave up a little wave, and we got to see him/her working on lip smacking and swallowing.
As a closing note, can I just mention how very sick I am of having to look for silver linings all the time? While my OB was sympathetically trying to talk me through the new information, saying that they would do everything they could to make sure we had the best outcome possible this time around, and that this new information makes us worry less for the future of this baby, I just couldn’t stop thinking that, even though it was true, this baby wouldn’t be here at all if my first practitioner hadn’t messed up so bad. I wouldn’t be high-risk and be under such watchful eye if my first child hadn’t died for no good reason… and, as much as I am sure I will love this new baby, I’m still also sure I’d rather just have Brock (for now, anyway). I’d rather not have to drive into Toronto twice a month, paying $20 in parking and another $15 in gas each time. I would rather not have to come to terms with my son’s death. I miss my innocence.