There's Always Time: Rollercoaster, PART V

*To Read Entire Series Click Here

May 31st, 2012

I decided to tell this story because it was a pivotal loss we had between losing the twins and the birth of our oldest son, Nico. It was a trying time for her and me. That period tested everything our relationship was about and everything it would be. We were desperate to heal ourselves and try to replace the loss we suffered on that terrible October morning in 2006 when we suffered a double loss of twins the morning we were scheduled to give birth. Mimie was very strong, but strength can only last so long.

I struggled with whether it was ethical to document what Mimie wrote in her private journal about privacy and the need to know. Still, I felt deep down that people should know her struggles, especially women. Women should know that they aren't alone in their difficulties trying to conceive and that a lot of women and couples go through this. I can write from memory, but Mimie would want people to know what happens from a woman's heart. Excerpts from her journal are unchanged and are true to her feelings. Just because Mimie is gone does not mean she should remain silent for eternity. Her life mattered.

-cpf

There is Always Time: Get Us off The Rollercoaster

PART V

With the looming appointment days away, I did my best to relieve our stress. We would go out to dinner and catch a movie. It was in our minds, yet we never spoke of it. I was getting so frustrated with the medical message boards on the internet that I stopped reading them all together. There are so many people with different reasons why their gestational sac wasn't developing that it was hard to pinpoint what the hell our problem was...

I would never recommend that anyone review those internet messaging boards; there is just no way to know what is going on in an individual's body. Instead of Googling "Sac not developing," I should have Googled "hope." That is all you are looking for among the feed of lines that people place on those sites.

In the end, it only depresses you more, knowing that there is so much angst out there from people who just want to have a baby.

A few days before our appointment, the doctor's office would call Mimie with her blood results from the blood drawn the week before.

Mimie journaled:

"We can have a D & C procedure, which is a surgical procedure that is essentially an abortion =( or we can wait for a miscarriage to just happen @ any point when the body figures out the pregnancy isn't viable…I didn't go to work yesterday b/c [because] I thought I'd have a call about the blood work. I told my boss I was waiting for the call. She said if I can't be in by noon take a TO day. Finally, the doc called @ 5:25 PM yesterday with w/my blood results. He said the HCG level was good, @ 13,000. Good what? I didn't understand. I asked what week would I be in @ 13,000 and he said 6. He said more than likely it's a miscarriage due to the irregular shape (per the tech) sac and 120 yolk sac."

Finally, the day had arrived. It was the following Friday after we found out that the Gestation Sac was not a circumference. We were on pins and needles. Amazing how stressed you can feel about something beyond your control. That only adds to it.

We entered the same room we had been in the previous time. Mimie assumes the same position. I am to her left, and the technician is to her right, looking at the screen as she begins her ultrasound.

It's deja vue all over again.

"Well," the tech says, "it is a circle now, so that is good. And there is a yolk in the sac, which is another good thing."

Mimie and I smile. I close my eyes and breathe in deep. I'm hoping for good things for Mimie because I don't want her to feel sad anymore. We need this. She needs this.

"I think this is the heartbeat," she says as she broadcasts the thumping sound on the speakers that are installed in the sonogram machine. "You think," I ask; the whole time, I wonder where she was trained?

"The fetus is pretty close to one of the main blood vessels. I can't tell if that is the heartbeat or her heartbeat. But I do believe I see a 'flicker of light.'

 Referring to the blood passing through the heart.

The sonogram is a device that sends ultrasound waves into the body that, in turn, returns an image to the screen for viewing. It's a suitable, non-evasive procedure that doesn't require cutting into the body to view an illness. As the heart beats in the fetus, the ultrasound returns the image like a candle; it is seen as it flickers.

We leave with little confidence in our technician, but not before she tells us to make another appointment for the Monday after next. So, for the third week in a row, we will be returning to view the young seed that seems to need more time to grow. And we need more hope, but we have been here before. I know there isn't a damn thing we can do. We are doomed. Deep down, I am sad for her. Am I putting too much pressure on her to conceive?

"Man, Mimie, "I said, "Will never make an appointment this early again. This back and forth is fucking ridiculous. It's hard to live like this."

Mimie nodded her head in agreement, "I know. Yes, it's a good fetus. No, it's a bad fetus. It is crazy."

Even though we weren't one hundred percent sure this was a successful pregnancy, there was still hope since the sac had formed into a circle, a fetal pole was seen, and there was a possible heartbeat offering us a "flicker" of hope. We decided to go to breakfast and enjoy the little good news we received.

We went to the mall just down the street from the doctor's office. Inside the mall is a small restaurant that has a pretty good breakfast. It was quiet for a Friday, and we could sit right down.

"So what did you think?" picking Mimie's brain about the appointment.

"Well, she didn't give me a whole lot of confidence. I know that much." she paused as the waitress came over to ask us what we wanted to drink.

Mimie ordered water, and I had an orange juice. The mall had a Starbucks, so we would get our latte fix after breakfast.

"I think we just made our doctor appointment too early. Maybe we should have waited a few weeks." Mimie said, resuming our conversation after our waitress left.

"Could be. But not knowing if the heartbeat was part of the baby doesn't give me a whole lot of confidence. Especially in that damn tech," I told Mimie as I fiddled with the small cardboard advertisement placed on the table promoting their Early Bird dinner specials.

"I'm happy, though; it could be worse. There could've been nothing there, but I can't stand this constant up and down." Mimie agreed.

It's true. This emotional rollercoaster was taking a toll on us both. There are only so many times you can ride it before getting motion sickness. And then, finally, just throwing up.

We were both ready to leave this amusement ride line and never return. It wasn't fun anymore.

We'd think about how all the reckless people in the world who can get pregnant, but yet, we had to struggle. I guess everyone who has had difficulty getting pregnant before and after us feels the same way.

It reminded me of a situation that occurred after I returned to work in December of 2006 after taking nearly two months of leave to mourn the loss of our children.

I had just gotten promoted right before I was to go on maternity leave for the birth of the twin girls. I was only in my new position for about six weeks when the tragedy occurred.

Before getting promoted, I had good seniority in my old position and could choose my fate, day or night shifts. However, when I return to work on December 3rd, I go directly to the night shift. It sucks to get promoted, but since you have no seniority, you return to the bottom of the barrel. It was like starting all over again.

The administration placed a new officer with me to train. I didn't mind then because nights can get lonely on patrol. At least I wouldn't be alone with my thoughts. I could concentrate on teaching the new guy.

One night, while we were on patrol, I noticed a car parked towards the rear of a closed business. It was about 3 AM, and it was odd for any vehicle to be in the parking lot of a closed business so late. Not only was it strange for the time, but the driver of the suspicious car parked in a place that was just begging for it to be checked out by the police.

The vehicle was parked in the rear of the building. Clearly, if there are any occupants, they are trying to hide out of view. Still, it could be more inconspicuous because it could be seen from the primary roadway. The small compact car was in the last parking space and partially in the dark. The glimmer of light from a parking lot lamp post reflected off the rear tail light. This reflection caught my attention, but not the rookie officer's attention.

"Did you see that?" I asked my trainee.

He was a short, stocky man. Clean-shaven, bald head. He was strong, and I wouldn't want to mess with him if I had to confront him on the street if I were a bad guy.

"See what?" He asked.

"Okay, going back," I said, annoyed.

I make a quick U-turn in the police car and return to the plaza with the single vehicle parked in it. Before tuning in from the main street, I turned off the main car headlights. I utilized my police radio and notified them I would be out with a suspicious vehicle.

121 (My Radio ID) Palms West (dispatch)

Palms West: Go ahead, 121

121: I will be out with a 13V (suspicious car) and 13P (suspicious person) to the rear of the Professional Plaza.

Palms West: 10-4, 121 (message acknowledged)

I park the patrol car back and away from the occupied vehicle. My trainee and I quietly exit the car.

We close our doors by gently applying pressure into the door jam with our hips like a hip checking the door. Once we hear the click of the door, the sound of the mechanism finds the steal latch attached to the car's body, and the door is secured.

We both approach the suspicious car. I take the driver's side, and my trainee walks on the passenger side. When I get close enough to the car, I can see inside. None of the car windows were tinted, making it easy to see the ongoings of a struggle inside.

I removed my 24,000 candle power mag light from its holster to light up the inside passenger compartment of the car.

The bright light would shine on a reality of life that is more common than some think. And total bullshit to come across after what Mimie and I just went through. It made me question my faith in God and the process of natural selection.

.

Click here for Part V » I've Got Twins
 
https://twitter.com/FusaCmee

1,701 words

Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print. 

Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com

What Makes Life Beautiful?

May 29th, 2012

What makes life beautiful to you? What opens your heart and your mind? Is there something that can penetrate your exterior housing to reach the depths of your spiritual being, releasing the pressure from the amplitude of your hardened arteries so it can exude from your body slowly deflating the strain of your lifeblood.

Is it the sight of a mountain range?

Rising from the landscape and expanding in a denticulate manner piercing the blue skyline with its jagged frontier. The white snow littered on the butte, glaring back at you like a blank canvass. The trees framing your vision in a perfect box as they creep into your view. The branches of the Limber Pine gradually lining the mountains countryside. It’s green evergreen needles clashing against the white mountain side snow, but its white lined leaves blending its edges into the foreground of the large mass. Standing by the side of the Limber Pine is the Narrowleaf Cottonwood. Its tall trunk not quite reaching its sixty feet range, but the serrated leaves are cutting into its neighborhood of trees, as the residue snow falls into your picture landing on the ground before you. The Douglas-fir is dotting your vista stirring up the aroma of pine, reminding you of Christmas. Following the tree line with your eyes, they become fixated on the shoreline as the Douglas-fir’s contours along the river bank. The water shimmers as a slight ripple from the cold air disrupts the water enough to distort your pleasure of seeing the mountain range twice in your seascape. The cool air pounds on your face until its numb, turning your cheeks red. Your breath is seen billowing out of your mouth as warm moisture is exhaled from your lungs condensing with the cold climate. There is beauty in every breath as the terrain comforts you. Your mind basking in the tranquility of something so massive, so beautiful, and as pure as the snowcapped mountains.

To look at a picture and imagine you are there can be very cathartic to your body, but sometimes finding nourishment in words can open the mind by displacing the structured aspect of your life that are swirling around in your head that turn a bright day dark.

Sitting outside to feel the pounding rays of the sun and enjoying nature to clear my mind, a Monarch butterfly elegantly whirls around me and lands on a flower.

The milkweeds long wing span arches’ up and curves downward rounding into its six legged body. The black and orange hues are highlighted within the aileron of the beautiful flying insect ,gives a reminder of Halloween. White polka dots outline the outer edge of his wings and if he sits still long enough you can try and play connect the dots. Black streaks line the airfoil like riverbeds carving out the land. I’m mesmerized by the soft landing it accomplished on such a delicate flower. The head sits up right, but the orange petals droop back, exposing the vulnerability of the pollen. Life creating life again, as he flies off. Its colors reflecting off the suns rays as he is pushed along by mother natures breeze. Life as usual in his world.

We all search for comfort in our time of need or stress. A quick get away to help us forget our troubles. The hope is that if you squeeze your eyes tight enough you’ll fall into your conscience and magically be in another world. But as hard as we try we never end up on that beach or somewhere on that island. Most of the time the only island we find ourselves on is the Island of Despair.

It doesn’t mean we can’t dream. Dream of a better place, another country.

I’ve always wanted to go to Greece. I have a passport just begging for a stamp. I want to see the coliseum standing before me, as I gaze into her history. The Roman architecture on full display as the travertine rock shapes the walls and forming the archways. As level after level rises from the earth, my imagination runs free of the fifty-thousand people, that once were, stood there and cheered, and now, at least in my mind, there again. I fill in the missing pieces of rock to make the stadium whole again, the large pieces that are missing now, appear like a breach in a ships hull, and takes away how wide and expansive she once was. The face of the once masterpiece of the Roman Empire is dark from the years of exposure to the elements. The day fades to night and the orange lights peer put from the inside out blazing the night sky and hiding her imperfections. It is a world to escape to when in reality absconding is not an option.

The will to open up is within everyone. It just takes the right vision and the desire to make it happen. I get lost in my children.

The way the interact with one another. Little sips of juice then pass to the other one as he says, “share.” When they approach me and ask me to take off their shirts. I oblige and tell them, “Raise your arms.” He closes his eyes, lifts both arms above his head,. I grab the bottom of the shirt, and like a magician who pulls the table cloth out from under the dishes, I swoop in and lift it up, removing his shirt with out a snag. He jumps with delight, “Yes, Yes, Yes!” he shouts. My other son approaches me and I do the same with him. They both do a dance like if they’re doing the Dosey Doe and run off into the other room. I get lost in Nico’s way of blowing kisses. He tells me he loves me and blows air kisses at me by sucking in his lips and using his facial muscles to pull them apart, sucking in the air and creating a popping sound. Christopher loves to lay by my side and repeat whatever I say back to me. By the way he thinks, “I’m the greatest.”

Life is beautiful. It can be ugly at times but so can all of us. Life is human because humans sustain life.

When your faced with the bad, close your eyes and get lost in the good. Its there in your mind, you just have to figure out what makes life beautiful for you?


https://twitter.com/FusaCmee

Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.

© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.

Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com

There's Always Time: Mimie Speaks, PART IV

*To Read Entire Series Click Here

May 28th, 2012

I decided to tell this story because it was a pivotal loss we had between losing the twins and the birth of our oldest son, Nico. It was a trying time for her and I. That stretch of time tested everything our relationship was about and everything it was going to be. We were desperate to heal ourselves and try to replace the loss we suffered on that terrible October morning in 2006 when we suffered a double loss of twins the morning we were scheduled to give birth. Mimie was very strong but strength can only last so long.

I struggled with documenting what Mimie wrote in her private journal between privacy and the need to know, but I felt deep down that people should know her struggles, espeically women. Women should know that they aren't alone with their difficulties trying to concieve and that a lot of women, and couples, go through this.  I can write from memory, but Mimie would want people to know what happens from a woman's heart. Excerpts from her journal are unchanged and are true to her feelings.

Through the rest of this series, I will document Mimie's thoughts, with care, love and understandning....

-cpf

There's Always Time: Mimie Speaks

Part IV

“Mimie” I said, “My parents had four kids, your parents have four kids. My uncle has four kids. Two of your sisters have two kids apiece. Your other sister has one. Mimie, your not defective. I’m not defective. Let’s just enjoy the moment. Life happens, give it time to evolve.”

That night was the last night of peace we would have in quite a while...

That morning, it was business as usual for me. Up at six, feed the dogs, get dressed, and go to work like clockwork. Today was different, though, because I felt joy knowing that Mimie was sleeping in bed with the baby. I could only hope she had good dreams with thoughts of her unborn child bringing her joy, peace, and love.

Later in my work day, I would receive a phone call from her.

"Hey," she said on the other end of the phone. I haven't heard the tone in her voice with an inflection in a long time. "Do you have next Tuesday off?"

"Yes," I told her.

"Okay, I am making a doctor's appointment for an ultrasound, and I figured you'd want to go." She was so happy.

"Definitely, I do."

"I thought so. It's booked for 9:30 in the morning." She said. God, Mimie was thrilled.

It was a long week. You never realize how long a week could be dragged out. Too bad vacations weren't like this. Unfortunately, we weren't on vacation, and the coming weeks would be as long. The coming weeks would be a constant struggle for our emotions to keep an open mind.

We didn't know it yet, but we should have expected it.

Nothing had been easy until this point in our quest to have kids. To make matters worse, we both knew deep down we hadn't healed our emotions completely after we buried our girls. It felt good to have something else to focus on; however, when you haven't made peace with your past, your past is still looming, setting yourself up to make your future failures seem even worse.

You don't expect something else to happen when you pay your dues. Another problem to stack on our totem pole of issues is that you assume when you spend an ultimate price like death, karma will pay you back with good.

The day of her ultrasound arrived. And honestly, we never thought there would be any problems in the beginning stage. We just didn't. Once the seed is planted, there is nothing to worry about, right?

"Okay, Mimie, just lie still", the ultrasound technician said. Mimie was lying on her back.

The room was lit with low lighting, giving it a tranquil atmosphere. The ultrasound technician was to Mimie's right. I was sitting on a low stool to her left. I tried to see the screen but couldn't from my vantage point. The first time we went into a sonogram, I went into the room ignorant. This time, I was well-educated on how they worked. I vowed I would never be left in the dark again when we lost the babies.

I was nervous and would fidget in my stool. I'd swivel the stool at 90 degrees left and right and do proper rotation. Mimie was staring at me, and we would have small talk. She was so happy. The technician was staring at the monitor. She had a smile on her face, and she would join in on our small talk. I'm not a poker player, but I have learned to watch the faces of everyone who has taken care of us in the past.

They give themselves away every time, and our technician was about to show me her hand.

I watched the technician's smile slowly disappear. She was just nodding as we spoke about our future hopes and recent loss. Every other time we had a past ultra sound with our twins, the technicians would be fully involved with us. Even turning the screen into our view so we could see the development of our fetus. Her communication fell silent, and she never turned the screen.

After she had completed her sonogram, she collected the pictures, which she took with the machine. She smiled and told Mimie to get dressed; she'd be back.

"I have to go upstairs," she told us. 

"Oh shit, Mimie, this ain't good," I tell her with a grim face.

"What do you mean not good." her face went stone.

"I was watching her." I said, "She was smiling, and then the smile disappeared. Something is wrong. Those other techs showed us the sac and development every other time. Even let us listen to the heartbeat. She didn't do any of that." My tone getting frantic. "She just left. She has to go upstairs? What the fuck does that mean?"

Mimie began to worry. I didn't want to tell her, but my emotions were running high too. There was something wrong. I knew it. Luck was going to elude us again. I expected to hear it from the horse's mouth when she returned. I was dreading it. Mimie sat there. I was making sense of what I was saying. I didn't know how we would react when she returned with the news. I wiped the ultrasound gel off her belly, helped her get dressed, and we stepped outside.

"Okay," the technician said upon her return. "I want you guys to go upstairs and see another technician," she said.

"Why upstairs?" Mimie inquired.

"I just want a second opinion on what I am seeing," she said.

"So you're saying there is a problem then?" I said in a sad tone.

"I am not a liberty to say. Only the doctor can make that call. That is why we are getting a second opinion."

The tech said in the most sterile tone possible.

"But you're essentially telling us there is a problem by having us get a second opinion." I said, "This isn't our first rodeo. You know we just lost twins; we have been in the room before. We know what is going on; there is no need to sugarcoat it. We just want honesty. It's her body and our life."

I understand why she was apprehensive. After all, she isn't a doctor, but she was seeing something wrong, and we needed to know. All we know now is that she is pregnant, but how far along was she?

Once the female egg is fertilized at about the fourth week of development of a woman's pregnancy, the endometrial lining walls thicken, and eventually, the gestational sac forms. Around the fifth to sixth week, the yolk sac will form inside it, and then eventually, the fetal pole will be the first sign of an embryo. Within the embryo, there should be a heartbeat. Thus sustaining life.

"I can lose my job," the technician told me, "I can not say for 100% that the pregnancy is not developing. I can tell you that the sac isn't a circumference. It is more oval, like a chicken egg. But it doesn't mean anything right now. You are so early in the pregnancy, infancy at just five weeks and three days. It could possibly be that you are here too early. Just go get your second opinion. And will try again next week."

I extend my hand to Mimie, sitting on a bench in the hallway just outside the ultrasound room. We walk to the elevator that will bring us to the other doctor's office and give us a second opinion. They confirmed what the first technician suspected. The sac has yet to develop, but they were unsure if this was because we came in very early.

Mimie wrote in her journal:

 "[The technician] said we might have been off on our last LMP [Last Menstrual Cycle]. She was done w/the scan and told us to get dressed while she called the doctor upstairs. We wait and finally go upstairs. We are told the on call doctor is at the hospital and we are to wait around. We have our blood drawn and wait. Finally the doc [doctor] comes and goes by the report the tech faxed, no pictures. She said @ [at] this point in time it doesn't look optimistic…there is generally a yolk sac by week 5 and a heartbeat near 7. I had neither. I (we) are devastated. We are told there is a 50/50 chance we are miscarrying."

The walk back to the car was truly devastating. I wrote the word "devestating" to describe our feelings, before I knew Mimie felt the same way (the same word) when she wrote that "we were devestated". It was only when I decided to add her thoughts to the story and reviewed her journal. That's when I saw it.

We didn't really talk, but we were both nervous. In hind sight we were just putting too much on us, too soon. This was going to be the longest week to wait for the another ultra sound. When we got home, Mimie was surprisingly upbeat. Or she was really good at hiding her emotions. I, on the other hand, was very nervous. I was more anxious for Mimie. I didn't want another blow to her feelings. The first thing I did was go on the internet and Google, "Sac not developing." Big mistake. Because it would consume me.

I would go to all the websites with anything to do with Gestational Sac not growing or measuring up. There were a ton of message boards with people posting messages of hope, fate, faith, and inspiration. I would spend all hours of my time reading them. If I found something of interest, I would tell Mimie right away.

"Someone says here on this message board that their doctor told them that their gestational sac wasn't developed and to abort the pregnancy. But the wall poster said they didn't and now have a beautiful baby girl. So see, they don't know shit!" Mimie would humor me and nod her head. "See, Mimie, what the fuck do they know!" My emotions ran away with me.

I don't think she wanted to think about the possibilities of what I found on the internet, yet she documented this in her journal:

"The research Chris has done indicates a blighted ovum (false pregnancy) or maybe 2 sperm fertilized the egg, or the X + Y chromosomes didn't meld and it never divided early on. We don't know. My LMP: 3/3/07, Approx [approximate] conception 3/16-/3/22. How much else can we take?"

We should have known the worst of things to come if it wasn't developed properly.

Mimie and I would go about our week as usual. But I know deep down it was on her mind. We were both working at the time, so we would consume ourselves in work trying to forget about the upcoming appointment, so much on our minds. It was like we were obsessed with having a baby. We needed to focus on everything else.

With the looming appointment days away, I did my best to relieve our stress. We would go out to dinner and catch a movie. It was in our minds, yet we never spoke of it. I was getting so frustrated with the medical message boards on the internet that I stopped reading them all together. There are so many people with different reasons why their gestational sac wasn't developing that it was hard to pinpoint what the hell our problem was.

1,852 words

PART VII JULY 2ND, 2012 AT 3:00PM Est.


© Copyright 2012- 2024 Captain Imperfecto, LLC. All rights reserved. This material may not be republished, rewritten or redistributed without permission.  Please contact if you would like to re-publish in film, television or print. 

Click here for Part V » Rollercoaster

https://twitter.com/FusaCmee

 

The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto/Born Again by Christopher P. Fusaro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.

Based on a work at christopherfusaro.blogspot.com.

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