Wednesday, June 11, 2014

what happened to molly

It was inconclusive mostly, with a large portion of evidence pointing towards Molly's placenta.

We got lost in the hospital, and by the time we found my obstetrician's office, I was an hysterical mess.
Nerves and fear we would miss our appointment. First time I've thought about wanting to smoke a cigarette after more than a year.

We arrive, she has a giant folder of paper on her desk with my married name on it.

My obstetrician was amazing. Having her tell us the news and explain possibly how Molly died was a small comfort. She couldn't believe how Sebastian had grown and how beautifully chubby he was. The last time she saw him he was a skinny little yellow boy.

So. Did they find anything?

Her placenta was small. Hers was in the tenth percentile, meaning 10% of the population they've tested on has survived this.
Placenta size isn't indicative of the quality of placenta, however, but it could mean she wasn't getting what she had to to survive. She was the size of a 32 week baby when she was born.

She also had a small vulnerability with her umbilical cord, which was positioned entering the placenta at the side (there's a term for this, I can't remember it). It means the cord veins are exposed.
Did my fall therefore rupture these or compromise anything?
She checked for me, knowing I'd ask this. Apparently there was no sign of rupturing.

There were no genetic, blood or other problems. She was otherwise perfect and stopped growing as she should at roughly 32 weeks, dying at 34.

Sebastian's placenta was also small. But less so, on the case that 50% of those tested survive. And he did. So today I fell in love with my boy child all over again, realising how achingly special he is.

If we had waited another week for him to be delivered he might not have made it. This is what they feared. So having him at 36 weeks luckily meant he was alright.

Did this happen because its a twin thing or a Peas thing?
She said twins actually have big placentas. So mine being small suggests that perhaps I need to be monitored if I ever get pregnant again.

She said I'll get scanned every two weeks and I would need to have my child early. At 34 weeks to be precise.

Another prem baby. Probably in special care. Something I'll need to think about and prepare for if and when that time comes.

The last full scan I had when Molly was alive was 30 weeks. She was small but still in the range of a healthy child.

She wouldve started to fall behind at 32 weeks. But of course I wouldn't have known this. With twins being such a high risk pregnancy, and one twin always being weaker/smaller than the other, my one question is this - surely, surely, twin mum's should be scanned more regularly than even we are no? Every two weeks at least. With a 32 week scan they might've picked up things weren't right and I could've maybe given birth shortly after that. Perhaps her life could've been saved.

Maybe not. I just don't get why we aren't scanned more often.

Her small placenta doesn't necessarily mean that's what killed her. Her placenta was still considered 'quality' by its consistency and non-granular appearance. But the evidence points towards that being small wasn't enough for her. That's why the evidence is considered presumptive.

But knowing the same fate could've happened to Seb made me feel something today that I didnt expect to feel: appreciative.
I feel sad and awful for Molly. But today I also felt a renewed sense of gratitude that my precious little boy survived a similar synopsis.

I have squeezed him tighter today as a result.

So that's that. My small placentas.

Molly's memory tree. From the Brit's parents, complete with an angel.

Today is the day I'm meant to feel total closure and let it go. We will see how that goes.


MeeA said...

It takes as long as it takes, Peas. There is no "supposed to" when it comes to grief over loss. Don't let anyone tell you that you should "be over it by now" or any other rubbish like that - you come to terms on your own terms, in your own time.

po said...

It is so heartbreaking, thank you for sharing that with us. I think your doc was very thorough, which is great but so painful.

Flarkit said...

I agree, it takes as long as it takes. Everyone's experience of grief is unique. It can be a source of strength, if you choose.

Vannessa said...

I agree with the others. Don't go thinking that you should be at a certain point in your grief at a certain time. Getting the results can help towards closure but it all takes time. You will never 'get over it' but maybe one day you will suddenly realise that talking about Molly is not like being stabbed in the heart with a big knife. Maybe a smaller knife and then a smaller one. Sometimes you think you are 'over it' and something happens out of the blue and it's a big knife all over again.
Until it's eventually a pinprick sometimes even a stick prodding you but it will always be there and that's how it has to be.
Sorry, these kind of analogies always helped me cope:)

Val said...

Thanks for sharing. But what made me feel happy reading your post, was the mention of your feelings towards Sebastian. Gratitude for the blessing he is and your love for him, will go a long way to help you overcome your loss. x