Why Can't Things Ever Be Easy?

Before I begin, I must warn you that this post is a rant. It will most likely not uplift or inspire you, so if you would like to turn back now, I give you full permission to do so before you read any further. 

I feel like there must be someone up in heaven that has gotten with God and said "Let's make everything difficult for Jessica. Things that most people take for granted--let's make sure those things are especially challenging for her." Because nothing has ever been easy for me or come naturally. I know there are people that have it much worse than I do, so I shouldn't be complaining. But seriously. Can't a girl ever catch a break?

Things started off great - I had a mom and a dad who loved each other, and two brothers. My mom was a fantastic mom. Circumstances made it possible for her to be a stay-at-home mom, for which I am eternally grateful. But in 1996, she got sick. On Labor Day in 1998, after a long battle with Cancer, she breathed her last breath and we had no choice but to try and move on with our lives.

My cute mom, sometime in her mid-twenties.

Somehow, life did go on, and I finished high school in 2005. I began college shortly thereafter. My dream was to get married and become a mother - and give my children what was stolen from me at such a young age. The years went by and I watched one by one as my friends all got married and began having kids. I hated when they would say that their plan had been to stay single for as long as possible and not have kids until their 30's. It didn't seem fair - I was the one who wanted this so badly. Why them and not me?

I decided to stop waiting around for my life to begin. I began a career. I saved as much money as I could and bought a house. I met Josh and we began to date, as many of my friends were pregnant with their second child. Once we had been seriously dating for a few months, I made it clear to Josh that I wanted kids as soon as possible, and he was on board. We got married and began trying for a baby.

I have always felt deep down that something was wrong with me, that I wouldn't be able to get pregnant naturally. So I went to see a doctor. We scheduled a laparoscopy, where they go in with a probe through your naval and look to see if you have endometriosis. I woke up from the surgery with three scars. One in my naval, and one on each side of my abdomen just above my hips. During the surgery they discovered that I did not have endometriosis, but instead I have blocked fallopian tubes, and that I probably would not be able to get pregnant naturally.

I was devastated, but determined. We immediately made an appointment with a fertility specialist. In that appointment, it was decided that we would proceed with In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) and that I would start the process right away. So I did. The injections were the worst part. Not only were they painful, but I swear they made me gain weight and caused me to be extremely moody. The implantation was the best part. Ever heard of Valium? Makes you feel like a million bucks. After the doctor finished the implantation, I was to lie still for 20 minutes. I began to cry as soon as the doctor left the room. When the nurse walked in a minute later and saw me crying, she was alarmed. "What's wrong?" she asked in a panicked voice. I replied, "I'm just so happy this is happening!" She probably laughed at me at that point. I don't remember.

They implanted two embryos into my uterus. On December 27th, I went in for a blood test to find out if I was pregnant. When the nurse called that evening, I was ecstatic to hear the results were positive. Two weeks later, we went in for our first ultrasound. Two very distinct bodies were visible. I was pregnant with twins. Each of them already had a heartbeat, in spite of the fact that weeks earlier they were mere cells. That was incredible to me.

I remember thinking, "Wow. Things are really looking up for me. Things are starting to go well. I wanted nothing more than to be a mother, and now I'm blessed with two beautiful babies at once! My luck is finally changing!"

Our fertility doctor recommended that I go see the doctors in the Maternal-Fetal Medicine department of the Utah Valley Regional Medical Center. We began to have ultrasounds every two to four weeks. Every time we went there, we were met with more and more bad news. Our smaller baby (Raven) was doing worse and worse every time we went. He wasn't growing. He was missing part of one of his legs. He didn't appear to have kidneys. He had too little amniotic fluid.

On May 7th, we went in for our regular appointment at the hospital. On May 7th, our hearts were shattered into a million pieces when we were told that Raven's heart had stopped.

An image I created in memory of Baby Raven.

After the news settled a few days later, I remember thinking, "Oh yeah. This is how my life goes. I never should have believed that things could have happened any differently."

My only consolation was that we still had one remaining healthy baby. Baby Roman was perfect. He never had anything wrong with him before--until yesterday's news came crashing down on us.

Our perfect, healthy, kicking, rolling, hiccuping baby boy is not doing as well as we all thought. They don't give me ultrasound pictures anymore, so I can't show you specifically what Roman's head looks like. But here is an ultrasound picture, courtesy of Google images, that should give you an idea.

His head is measuring at 27 weeks, although he is 32 weeks gestation. He has Microcephaly (small head) and Craniosynostosis. Craniosynostosis is a condition where the plates of the skull begin fusing together before they are supposed to.

This means I may not get the natural childbirth I so desperately wanted to have. It also means that Roman may have to undergo a surgery wherein they break his skull and reshape his head.

I am terrified of what lies ahead for me. I have been so traumatized by this pregnancy that I'm not sure I ever want to put myself through this again. I guess when I said I wanted to be a mother, I meant that I wanted what all of my friends had: uneventful, healthy pregnancies, and happy, healthy babies. I never dreamed that any of this would happen to me. I don't want to do this anymore. I'm tired of the constant fear, the incessant heartache, the overwhelming sadness that is always on the verge of completely engulfing me.

I wish I could end this post on a positive note, but I don't have it in me right now. Anything positive that I could say would feel like bullsh*t to me. I know I'm being put through these trials for a reason. I know that I will be a better person for it in the end. But in the meantime, it's just so damn hard.