Today I saw our MFM doctor for the last time related to this pregnancy – it was a mixture of emotions – relief the journey has ended but also sadness because she was amazing to work with. This appointment was not only the typical six week postpartum appointment, but also for her to review with me what the findings were from the placenta pathology to hopefully give us answers as to why my pregnancy ended up the way that it did.
Good news is there is no genetic component contributing to Chandler’s IUGR or the oligohydramnios. A genetic component being a contributing factor would be the least ideal outcome as it could mean that Chandler may need further genetic testing to determine what genetic abnormality she could have, and it could also mean that subsequent pregnancies could be impacted. It was a huge relief to hear that this wasn’t the case for us.
The findings from the pathology indicated that the placenta had a 2cm infarction. An infarction is a fancy medical term for dead tissue. What is interesting is although Chandler was born in the 4th percentile, the placenta was the size of what is expected of a standard sized baby born at 36 weeks gestation [I believe they use the 50th percentile as a standard]. Our doctor was surprised at this finding and was expecting the placenta to be small in size to match Chandler’s small size, however that wasn’t the case.
So why did this happen? Our doctor’s best guess is when I had bleeding the weekend before my anatomy scan (I was 19w5d at the anatomy scan) I had a partial placental abruption. She thinks this is when my bag of water broke due to the trauma of the placental abruption, and why I was having contractions. There is no way to be 100% certain of this, however there really isn’t another explanation. The risk factors for placental infarcts [high blood pressure, gestational diabetes, fetal infection, fetal anemia] were not present in my pregnancy. What is interesting is the 2cm infarct was the same size throughout the pregnancy from the time of the initial trauma – so this helps explain the growth restriction. 2cm is a lot larger portion of a 19w gestation placenta than it is of a 36w gestation placenta, for example [at 36w, 2cm would be ~10% of the placenta]. This also helps explain why Chandler’s growth restriction was so severe when I had hardly any amniotic fluid, and why when my bag of water resealed itself and my amniotic fluid levels were normal again, her growth essentially took off and she caught up quite significantly. With my fluid levels back to normal, my placenta was able to continue to grow with the pregnancy and nourish Chandler as well as it did.
Can this happen again? Technically, yes, it can happen again. Is it likely to happen again? No, it would be highly unlikely. If we choose to have another baby, there is an increased likelihood of having another growth restricted baby once you’ve had one, but it doesn’t guarantee that another baby would be growth restricted. Future pregnancies for me would automatically be placed in the “high risk” category because of the nature of my pregnancy with Chandler [and because I will be “advanced maternal age” but we don’t need to go there :P].
I think one really valuable lesson John and I learned along the journey of this pregnancy and welcoming Chandler into the world is doctors don’t always know everything. They can do their best to predict outcomes given their own professional experiences and research they have consumed, but there is never a guarantee of a positive or negative outcome. For anyone reading this blog who is experiencing a high risk pregnancy with an uncertain outcome, I hope to leave you with a few things I’ve taken away from this experience:
- It’s okay to have faith. Now I’m not talking blind faith or unrealistic faith, but it’s okay to believe in something and have hope. For so long during this journey, John and I only had hope and faith to hold on to because it is what helped keep us going and took us out of the dark place where we started. Writing this blog was a beacon of light for me during that time and helped me hold on to hope – also buying baby clothes online and telling the universe and myself that we would use them [also, who doesn’t love buying baby clothes?] The power of positive thinking is real and I believe in it.
- Question everything. And I mean EVERYTHING. Ask all of the questions, and if you didn’t absorb the information the first time, ask again. And then when you get home, do research to educate yourself on your diagnosis. You have to be your own advocate. If your doctor suggests a procedure you can say no, you can ask for more information, and you can ask to think about it. We were asked countless times to consent to an amnio-dye test so the hospital could “prove” that my water broke. We continued to decline because the risks of pregnancy loss [even though it’s “only” 1 in 500] was too great a risk for us to feel comfortable just so someone could check a box and put my pregnancy in a category.
- Get a second opinion. Or even a third opinion if you need it. If we had listened to the first set of MFM doctors we saw when we initially were counseled after the anatomy scan, our daughter wouldn’t be here. We would have gone ahead and terminated what ended up being a perfectly healthy child. This ties back to questioning everything. Had our outcome been the same and our daughter had an incompatibility with life diagnosis, we would have felt more sure about making that type of decision and would have felt more empowered and prepared.
- Join a support group. Part of why I started this blog was I couldn’t find many stories online of women and families who have navigated an oligohydramnios diagnosis. There were maybe three or four stories I could find, some with a positive outcomes and some not. I was so desperate to know that someone else had gone through this before me and maybe I could read about their experience to prepare myself on what to expect, give myself hope, or at least feel less alone. I was able to connect with some women on a subreddit called r/NICUParents who had similar high risk pregnancies, and that sense of community was extremely positive and uplifting for me.
- Feel your feels. You are allowed to be angry and sad, sometimes at the same time. You are allowed to mourn the pregnancy you envisioned for yourself. You are allowed to feel the pain of what feels like almost losing your child. You are allowed to embrace your pregnancy and/or birth trauma. Just know that this wasn’t fair and it’s shitty and you’re allowed to take as long as you need to be in that place. Don’t be disappointed if your support group says things like “but everything turned out okay!” or try to draw comparisons to their own experiences to provide you comfort – they aren’t trying to negate your experience or minimize what you went through…sometimes people show up for you however they know how.
- Take care of yourself. For a long time, John and I had a really hard time finding joy when we were in the throws of grief during my pregnancy. We would have what we called “a moment” where one of us would start to cry and sometimes it hit us out of the blue and without warning or reason. I wish we would have done a better job of taking care of ourselves and finding joy. I was so focused on the future and the “what ifs” that I really ended up robbing myself of being happy for many months. All I could manage to do was keep living until “next Wednesday” when we would go to the hospital and hope we got positive news that could keep us going to the following Wednesday, and so on and so forth.
I’m not sure what the future of this blog will hold. I go back and forth on whether or not I should sunset this as it feels like a chapter has closed in my life while a new chapter is starting. Sometimes I feel like I should continue to write about Chandler and how she is doing, her development, and how she’s just a precious ray of sunshine. Tomorrow she will be seven weeks old [three weeks adjusted] and she is growing like crazy. She is so incredibly physically strong and has been since she was born, but that is no surprise to me because I could feel that when she was in the womb. I just knew this little girl was going to be a fighter and she has shown that daily. Thanks to all of you who have shown support for me and John during this journey – whether you’ve sent a gift, reached out to us directly, or even just followed this blog and read it as a silent supporter. We appreciate each and every one of you.
Love,
Daniele, John, and little Chandler girl