July 2015 proved to be one of the most eventful months of our lives. Good events, and very bad events. We started off the month with a fantastic day trip to Paso Robles for wine tasting (just my husband and I), as part of an early anniversary celebration. Then we spent a few days in Tahoe for a family vacation. Overall, our Tahoe trip was awesome. We loved it there and can’t wait to go back again (I have an entire post in my drafts folder all about it). However, bad event #1 happened there. On our 3rd day, Ivor Baby had a pretty serious allergic reaction to something and we had to take him to the ER. It was a “moderate” reaction. Eye swelling and hives all over his body. But no respiratory distress, thank God. We didn’t figure out what caused it until recently after taking him to an allergist. Food allergies tend to be the most common occurrence in babies, but we didn’t introduce anything new while we were in Tahoe. We DID, however, expose him to something for about the 3rd time ever, eggs. Little Dude is allergic to eggs (and milk as it turns out, but eggs are likely what caused the bad reaction in Tahoe). Now we know what caused it, and what to avoid in the future. We even have an epi-pen just in case. But we’re hopeful that he’ll outgrow the allergy eventually.
Moving on to later in the month….
We celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary. Yay marriage! Yay us! Good times.
July 21, 2015- my husband was in a serious bicycle accident on his way home from work. While riding downhill at 20+mph, his front tire failed, blew out completely, sending him flying into a chain link fence, breaking his collar bone, fracturing 2 bones in his back and bruising the spinal cord in his neck (injuries that were confirmed much later at the hospital). A random stranger who stopped to help him called me with the news. Well, he called and then handed the phone to Ivor, who then told me what happened. Fortunately, my mother-in-law was visiting at the time so I left immediately to go get him. The plan was for me to take him to the hospital. But when I got there and we realized he couldn’t get in the car because of how much pain he was in, I called 911 and an ambulance showed up a few mins later. When the paramedics arrived and started poking and prodding him, cutting off his bike shirt because he was in too much pain to move his arms, I started to get sick to my stomach. Sure he was awake and talking, but he looked so pale and in so much pain. And so I started assuming the worst (serious internal bleeding that we don’t know about yet, etc. etc. etc.) I had to sit on the back bumper of the ambulance with my head between my knees to keep myself from passing out or vomiting. I kept telling myself “pull it together, Krystal…they don’t need 2 patients right now. Pull yourself together”. After what seemed like way too long, they told me to meet them in Trauma at Santa Clara Valley Medical Center. So I got in car, prepared to follow them. But then they sat there for what also seemed like FOR-EV-ER, before they finally pulled away and started driving. I was *this* close to laying on my horn, beeping at them to get their lazy as*es moving. Again, “pull yourself together woman”.
Once we arrived at the hospital, he had a ton of x-rays done and a CT scan, and was given morphine to help with the pain. We waited around for quite a bit, wondering if he’d be able to go home that night or if he’d need to stay for awhile. While waiting out in the hallway in the trauma area, I decided to finally take a bathroom break. While in the bathroom, I discovered that I was bleeding.
What I failed to mention earlier was that shortly after our Tahoe vacation, we found out we were expecting our 3rd baby.
And now we’re in the trauma center of Santa Clara Valley Medical, my husband is laying on a gurney out in the hallway in a neck brace, with broken bones, in excruciating amounts of pain, …and now in typical, “when it rains it pours” fashion, it appeared that we were losing our baby too. All on the same day. I walked back out to Ivor and told him what was happening. He held my hand, which was all he could do.
“Worst. Day. Ever.”
They kept him in the hospital overnight and I stayed with him, in the most horrible uncomfortable chair ever, not being able to sleep for obvious reasons. 1. the chair 2. I was freezing 3. I was bleeding 4. I kept checking on Ivor making sure he was breathing…watching the rise and fall of his chest, much like you do when you first bring home a baby. Because I’m paranoid like that. When the doctors made their rounds first thing in the morning they discovered that Ivor had quite a bit of neck pain, so they ordered an MRI for later in the day (the MRI is what eventually showed his spinal cord injury). While he was getting his MRI, I was on my way to the OB for an ultrasound to try to figure out what was going on with my pregnancy, expecting the worst of course.
It was in the OB’s office, sitting there by myself, while my husband was in the hospital, that I finally could NOT hold myself together anymore. The nurse asked me “So, what’s going on, when did the bleeding start?” And the floodgates opened. I was one hot mess in that office. And then came the ultrasound. We discovered 2 things. 1. There were 2 visible sacs on the screen. Twins. I was pregnant with twins. But one of them didn’t appear to be growing well, and starting to disintegrate, which was probably the cause of the bleeding. 2. The other one appeared to be in better shape, with a little baby inside. But I wasn’t far enough along for them to be able to tell for sure if everything was okay or not. So they sent me away to get a blood test (to check hCG levels) and another ultrasound the following week. So there was a small sliver of hope. While it was pretty clear that we were losing one of the twins (one I didn’t even know we were expecting until we were losing him/her), there was still hope for the 2nd one. The hCG test showed that my levels were rising, which was a good sign, but since I was having twins my levels were “unpredictable”, according to the doctor. So ultimately, it would be the 2nd ultrasound that would hopefully give us a clear answer one way or the other.
Fast forward to that ultrasound a week later (after we’ve been home from the hospital for a few days). Ivor was (barely) able to be there with me for this one. He was in a lot of pain, but he was there. The 2 sacs were still there but the one was significantly smaller than it was the week before, confirming again that we lost one. But then as the ultrasound tech began measuring the 2nd sac with the 2nd baby in it, I knew. I’ve been pregnant enough in the past few years and I’ve seen my fair share of ultrasounds to know what a beating heart looks like, even in the early stages, and there wasn’t one. The tech didn’t say much and asked again if I was still bleeding at the time. I wasn’t. She said to sit down and wait for the doctor to come in to talk to us about the results (again, we know what’s coming at this point). Still though, even with a week to prepare myself for it, and seeing it on the screen with my own eyes, it still hurt like hell to hear the actual words come out of my doctor’s mouth. “No heartbeat”.
That makes 2 miscarriages, and 3 total babies lost. Still as devastating as the first time, even with 2 beautiful, healthy kids at home.
I was considering passing the babies naturally at home, but decided against it given our current circumstances. I was taking care of my husband and our 2 kids and the last thing our family needed was for me to be in pain, cramping and bleeding and not being able to take care of them. So we opted for another D&C procedure.
That was yesterday. And now it’s over.
And it’s a new month.
There’s a lot more I want to write about this whole experience, with Ivor’s accident, and miscarrying for the 2nd time…and the twins. And I know Ivor wants to write about it from his perspective too. But for now, all I can say is that God is still good. And we have never before in our lives been more surrounded by the love and kindness of others. And have never experienced comfort quite like this before.
“Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” (Matthew 5:4).