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The Results Are In

Hello Again

After taking a break from writing I am back to fill you in on the (not so) exciting things that have taken place over the past month.

TJ (my husband) and I knew that whatever the results were, it was going to be hard to hear.  In the weeks leading to getting the autopsy results, we had already done lots of researching, reading, talking with friends and family, and we met with a grief counselor.  Just as there is no way to prepare for a tragedy like we have been experiencing, there really is no way to prepare yourself to her the results of your baby's autopsy.

Let's Hear It

So, let's just get to it. I mean, that's why you're reading this anyway, right? A bunch of tests were performed on me, mostly blood tests. All of these came back normal.  This didn't surprised me much. After all, I had a fairly "normal" pregnancy for nine months.  I had dreadful morning sickness during the first half of the pregnancy, and was swelling to the size of Shamu by the end, but again, "normal". Every check-up had been a breeze up until the day we found out that Tatum had passed. I had perfect blood pressure, I passed the glucose test, I took my vitamins every night, and nothing showed any abnormalities.

Before the final autopsy results came in (they were taking longer than expected), we met with my OB to hear the preliminary report. While in the hospital, the doctor collected her umbilical cord, some amniotic fluid, the placenta, and a small piece of muscle from her little leg for testing.  So far, all of these tests came back "normal". 

There was one thing that I was very disappointed about.  The specimen taken from Tatum's leg could not be tested.  How could this be? The doctor stated that the tissue would not "grow".  She said that this could be because Tatum had passed too long before the tissue was tested.  After all, we found out that we had passed on Wednesday and I didn't deliver her until Friday. This was so upsetting to me.  Not only were they unable to test the specimen, but Tatum's poor little leg had to be cut open for no reason. How silly does that sound? I was so saddened by this, while knowing that she certainly could not have felt any pain at that time, regardless. Still, knowing that they had to cut open her perfect little leg for no reason, was heartbreaking to me.


The doctor reexplained that this tissue would have been used to check for chromosome disorders.  She assured us that if Tatum did have a chromosome disorder that could repeat itself in a future pregnancy, that there would be physical or facial evidence of this on Tatum.  The doctor assured us that all of her features appeared "normal", and there was nothing out of the ordinary.  She explained that after the autopsy report we could look into genetic testing ourselves, if we desired. 

We still had to wait for the final report to hear the actual autopsy results. My doctor was going to be away at a conference when the results would arrive. Not wanting to wait, or hear the results over the phone, we requested to meet with another doctor in the office to hear the results.  This was a doctor who was at the hospital one day while I was in to deliver Tatum. We were interested in speaking with this doctor because we knew that we would likely be looking for a new doctor so that we could have a fresh start during my next pregnancy.   

The News We Waited For, Yet Never Wanted to Hear

The day was here. We dreadfully waited for the doctor to come in the room. He came in and immediately said that everything came back "normal". The doctor stated that she was a "perfectly healthy baby girl." In my mind I had so many thoughts. Healthy? How could she be "perfectly healthy" if she's not here? If she was "perfectly healthy" we wouldn't be there. We would be home with our baby!

We stayed to asked the doctor, Mr. Empathetic, a few more questions that we had written down. We had a lot of questions, some he couldn't answer. Some, he gave us a generic answer and with others he just pissed me off (pardon my French).  One of the questions we asked was about how he would handle a future pregnancy.  My original OB stated that she'd likely induce me at 36 weeks of pregnancy since Tatum did not make it to 40 weeks. This doctor stated that he "would not induce before 38 weeks".  In fact, he said that he'd prefer to wait until 39 weeks.  I bursted into tears.  How could I be content with that when my baby didn't make it to 38 weeks? In fact, she likely passed away at around 37.5 weeks! 

Mr. Empathetic himself continued by telling us that we "just got 'shit luck". ...Thanks for your medical terminology, doc.  "Shit luck" he called it, can you believe that? I get what he was trying to say.  It did not appear to be an event that would likely repeat itself.  Great, but how do you know? Nobody predicted that it could've happened to begin with.  Now don't get me wrong, if I found myself 36 weeks pregnant and my baby was still too small or was under developed, then I probably would not be able to induce.  However, we are talking about the difference between life and death here! Given that the autopsy results indicated a healthy baby, if Tatum could've been treated with caution and was delivered at 37 weeks, she would likely be here now. I can't go through that again.

The doctor, Mr. Empathetic, continued with his own ridiculous words of wisdom and support. He stated, "you could have a teenage who dies in a car crash, or a child who has Leukemia or  some kind of cancer. What I mean is that even if your baby lived, she wouldn't be in the clear." ...Seriously? Is that supposed to make me feel better? At that point I was done with the appointment.  I could not make eye contact with him anymore. Now do you see why I call him Mr. Empathetic? 


We also asked him about genetic testing.  Would he recommend it? We heard it's expensive, would it be worth it? He basically told us that we could do it, but we would be wasting our time.  He again said that Tatum was "perfectly healthy", we just had "shit luck", and that more than likely the genetic testing would come back normal.   

Taking It All In

We asked for a copy of the autopsy report and took it home.  I didn't have the courage to read it thoroughly right away. A few days later I read the report while my husband and I were eating dinner.  It was so hard to read every detail of the report.  It described the incisions they made on her tiny body, and the dimensions of her organs.  Again, I had feelings of disbelief. I couldn't believe I had to read my daughter's autopsy report after spending over nine months preparing for her arrival, reading numerous pregnancy books, and setting the house with all of her adorable things.  

One thing that my husband and I struggle with is the fact that we never got to see her eyes. The autopsy report confirmed that our little girl was born with brown eyes. I will always wonder what her eyes looked like, or how she would look with her eyes wide open.  

Everything on the report seemed pretty standard.  We did take a look at the section about the umbilical cord.  My husband recalls that the umbilical cord looked pretty short and the doctor also commented during delivery that it was a short cord.  The autopsy reported that Tatum's cord was 27 inches long.  My husband made a suspicious face and ran to get his tape measure for a visual.  We then looked up the average length of an umbilical cord.  The average length is typically 55-56 inches.  We did ask a doctor about this.  It is a possibility that she could've tangled the cord slightly, but there is no way to find out for sure because there was no evidence of any knots and tangles with the cord. 

So that's it. For no rhyme or reason, our full-term baby passed away before she ever got a breath of air. On one hand, it's good to know that she did not have any serious disorder or illness that could repeat itself with another pregnancy.  On the other hand, we are left with a world of unknown. 

We will try again for another baby. We are trying to have another baby. Although we hold our Tatum in our hearts,  my husband and I both feel the need to be a mommy and daddy to a baby we can hold and take care of every day.  Please don't preach to us about how we should wait until we are emotionally ready. Until you've experienced this, you can not weigh in on that topic.  It's blunt, but it's true.  The truth is, I'll never be emotionally ready to be pregnant again. Whether I get pregnant now or three years from now, it will be tough no matter what.  

Comments

  1. Thank you for sharing Brittany. You and your husband are so incredibly strong and brave.

    ReplyDelete
  2. May God bless you with another child to warm your hearts. We love you and continue to pray for you and TJ. May you find peace in knowing what you know and find comfort in each others arms. XO

    ReplyDelete

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