Testing, Testing... 1 2 3...

Since the loss of the baby, I think I have seen five doctors, had 21 vials of blood drawn, and still have no answers as to why my baby had to die. (I'm sorry if that was harsh, but it is true.) When I first had the miscarriage, I bought books about how to handle the loss of a child, what to expect during the physical healing process, and how to make my way through the emotional and psychological healing. I bought books like "Empty Arms" something or other and "Trying Again". All I wanted was to feel normal - to know that other women had been through what I went through and came out on the other end ALIVE. Probably not the best idea. Instead of learning that I am not the only to suffer such a devastating loss, I learned that LOTS of other women had suffered losses two or three times more gut-wrenching than mine. A crazy 25% of all pregnancies end in miscarriage and that is based on the losses that have been documented. I learned about all the horrible things that could go wrong - not very beneficial when you are trying to lower your anxiety levels about having another baby.

Since discovering that I suffer from Factor V, I have been on edge about blood clots. Thrombosis - the bane of my existence. Although I have never (knock on anything wood please) suffered from a clot, my grandmother has and I am at a much higher risk. So what does a freak like me do after being diagnosed? I overdue it on the research to find out anything and everything I can about thrombophelia and how to protect myself from it's ugly symptoms. I saw two hematologists to learn about the blood disorder and how to prevent complications. I was told to immediately start on a baby Aspirin regimen and use the Lovenox while pregnant. Easy enough, right? (Did you Google the Lovenox shot yet? You answer that question for yourself when you do.)

Not so much. Instead of feeling better about what to expect and what could happen, I read about the symptoms of clots and what happens if you don't seek help. Great plan Tiffany - well done!

About a month ago I began having pain in my left calf. Oh no, wimpy mom is coming out. Instead of thinking, hey, this might just be muscle pain or I need to eat more bananas, I made an appointment to have a leg ultrasound in order to rule out DVT (deep vein thrombosis). Luckily for me, I am free and clear of any abnormal blood interactions in my legs! PHEW! However, the doctor says, your other symptoms lead me to believe there is something else going on. Hypothyroidism.

Oh boy. Really? Did I pass a point on the gameboard of Life where my body falls apart? Because if so, give me the card that sends me three spaces back!! HYPOTHYROIDISM! What the hell is that?! So there I went, BACK on the research mission from hell. But wait - I find there is a link between this ill-fated hormone interruption and miscarriage. Really?

So doc orders more blood work and an ultrasound of my thyroid.

Now, to most, an ultrasound would sound like nothing. Doesn't hurt, doesn't take long, isn't invasive. However, to a mother who had a prenatal ultrasound without a fetal heartbeat, ultrasounds are terrifying. When I had my leg ultrasound last week, I was so worked up about the potentiality of a clot, I didn't think twice about it. Until I left. Then the memories sunk in like shot of tequila swallowed ten minutes earlier. And here I was - having to do it again.

Well, let me say, this wimpy mom may have a panic attack when I think about peeing on a stick, or walking into my OB/GYN's office, or ever using a Doppler again. But I am going to suck it up on Thursday when I sit down for the thyroid ultrasound. I went today for the blood work (fasting SUCKS by the way). That was the easy part.

Before the loss, I never questioned my body's ability to conceive and to carry a healthy baby. I never through there was a need for pre-conception genetic testing or random ultrasounds to check normal bodily functions. However, I get a gut feeling that from this point on, I will be begging for any test that will ensure a healthy and happy baby for the Clyne family. Let the testing begin.