Lost and Found
December, Tuesday 5. 2006.
Diary Entry-
The worst day of my lifetime.
After the amnio one of my babies is gone. No heartbeat. I lost all my amniotic fluid. The other twin is fighting for her life and the prognosis is bleak. I am in the hospital and completely immobilized. Very little hope.
--That day I lost one of my twin daughters as a result of amniocentesis at 6 months gestation. The risk of "miscarriage" is less than 1%- or 1 in 1,000-43,000. The chances are higher if the mother is carrying twins. I hate the word miscarriage. Never tell me "the odds."
My reason for having amnio was twofold- I was 40 years old when pregnant with my twins and, 3 years earlier, my firstborn son was born with a rare genetic condition called Galactosemia that can be fatal if the newborn ingests breastmilk at birth. My husband and I are both carriers for the mutation, so we were advised to test to keep the twins "safe."
I knew during the procedure that something had gone wrong, but my innate mother's instinct was pushed aside by the male doctor. My entire body went cold as ice while still on the table. I got very shaky and nauseated and felt entirely wrong- like my spirit literally left my body and I could feel it pulling away. Later that night, I lost all the amniotic fluid for both babies. An emergency visit to my OB detected only one faint heartbeat. The chances of any of the three of us surviving were bleak. My womb was likely to go septic and toxins spread throughout my system. Over the next week I lay in bed, waiting for more death and cried until I burst every blood vessel in both eyes. My only will to live was to save my remaining daughter. I did nothing but drink gallon upon gallon of water to try and replenish amniotic fluid. I spent the next 3 months on strict bedrest, leaving the house only to go have constant sonograms with a high risk pregnancy specialist.
*The right-side journal page image used in this piece is from The Library of Congress, marking the day the wife of President Theodore Roosevelt died during childbirth on Valentines Day, 1884. Alice was only 22 years old. Women's reproductive lives are fraught with profound peril. Bodily autonomy is an unalienable human right.