So here I am pregnant with triplets. My anxiety sets in within just a few days of receiving the news. I spend a few days with debilitating anxiety- How will I care for three babies? Will I be able to deliver three babies? I'm totally going to have to quit my job- we can't afford child care for three babies- Oh my god- How are we going to do this? You get the point.
Two weeks after the first ultrasound Matt is away for work again- and my mom comes with me to the next doctor's appointment. The ultrasound shows ( 8 weeks pregnant) three happy babies. At this appointment the pregnancy nurse tells me that I will need to make an appointment with a high risk obgyn. She explains that the probability of me bringing three healthy babies to term is not likely and I will need to be evaluated for pregnancy reduction. Reduction? I'm totally confused. She explains further that sometimes it is in the best interest of mother and babies to reduce the pregnancy by one baby so that I am able to deliver two healthy babies- instead of three sick babies.
This conversation threw me for a loop. I had JUST had a miscarriage. I had just lost a baby. Now we are talking about electively killing a baby? YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME! This is just a complete mind fuck ( sorry for the language.) None the less- I call and make the appointment for two weeks later.
Very quickly I am VERY sick. I feel like I have the stomach flu ALL day long. It's hard to get out of bed, I feel nauseous all day-everyday. I'm unable to eat or go to work- I am vomiting and losing weight, I'm basically pregnant with triplets and useless. It's now the week of Thanksgiving and Matt and I are supposed to be hosting 15 family members at our townhome. It's Tuesday morning and I'm dressed for work, laying on the living room floor- feeling like hell and crying. Matt calls my boss to let her know there is just no way I will be able to work today and then he calls my mom and asks if she will host Thanksgiving because I am just a mess. My mom takes on Thanksgiving- my boss is not happy I keep calling out of work.
On Thanksgiving day Matt and I go to my parents for dinner. As each member of my family walks in the door my mom happily announces that " Diana is pregnant with triplets!" I feel too physically terrible to care- but am also not happy that she is delivering this news to everyone- knowing the following week we will have to see a doctor about "reduction." It's important to note that it was a really nice Thanksgiving. Matt's parents were both in attendance along with mine- we were all together and had much to be grateful for on that day.
One week later my father in law, Butch, Matt's dad, suffers a massive heart attack. He is put on life support and two days later is escorted by angels to heaven. We were wrecked- absolutely inconsolable. Matt's dad and I had a special relationship. He had been retired since Matt and I started dating. I would call him daily to shoot the shit- seek advice- hear about his day- tell him about mine. He thought it was hysterical I was pregnant with triplets. But he was joyful- and willing to jump in and help care for three babies if he needed to.
Butch wasn't a picture of health. He had retired early due to leukemia. He had a few heart attacks over the years and spent some time in the hospital here and there for complications. During this time of my life - I was a dance teacher. Matt and his mom worked days- I worked nights. Whenever Butch was hospitalized I would go to visit him and receive the daily updates from doctors. I would bring him clean clothes- wash his hair in the sink- help make him comfortable. Over the years Butch and I spent a fair amount of one on one time together. He truly became a father to me- and I cherished our relationship very much.
Butch passed away on Monday evening. We went to plan his funeral on Wednesday. Thursday was our appointment with the high risk obgyn. Many family members encouraged Matt and I to cancel the appointment- but rescheduling wasn't an option. We had time sensitive awful things to evaluate with this doctor and we had to go. The appointment started with an ultrasound. ( I'm just about 10 weeks pregnant at this point.) The tech spends a lot of time with the screen facing her taking many images. She excuses herself without saying much of anything about the babies. The doctor comes in- introduces himself and starts to scan again. I knew- I knew something was wrong. He turns off the screen and tells us that we have just two babies- no longer three and they both look great.
To be honest- we were relieved. It feels horrible to admit that- but we were. We didn't have to make any decisions about life or death for our children. From that day to right now in this moment as I write- I know in my heart that Butch took that baby with him. He saved us from more suffering. While I yet again had miscarried a baby- I was at peace because I knew my baby was with Butch. I knew god made this decision for Matt and me- for we couldn't handle the pain of "reduction."
On Saturday we laid Butch to his final resting place.
It was one of the worst weeks of my life.
It's been almost six years since Butch left us. I miss him SO much. I think of him often. We call my son Austin " little Butchie" because he has so many similarities to his Pop. It makes me sad that my boys will never know Butch. It makes me sad that Butch never had the opportunity to meet his grandsons. But I have such peace that my third baby- is with Butch.
"Because someone we love is in heaven, there is a little bit of heaven in our home"- unknown.
John " Butch" Gleason 4/25/48 - 12/8/14