I would be tried for murder in Georgia

I'm not normally one for political opinion.  I only keep myself moderately educated on what's going on in the world so for the most part, I don't feel educated enough to comment.

But apparently, there is a new law being introduced in Georgia that would have someone in my position tried for double homicide and given the death penalty.

Here is the article about the new law.

According to that law, myself and my doctors would be felons, tried for double homicide, and put on death row.

Dear Rep Bobby Franklin,

I am the woman you would like to see killed at the hands of state prosecutors.

Prior to my pregnancy, I began prenatal care.  I took metformin to prevent diabetes, lost about 15lbs, and started taking prenatal vitamins a month or two before I was pregnant.

Unlike most women, I had the benefit of knowing the date and time of my conception.  Every moment of my conception was monitored by doctors so there was not a single minute of my pregnancy in which I did not know that I could possibly be pregnant.  For most pregnancies, there is a 2-5 week window in which a woman can be pregnant with no way knowing that pregnancy has occurred.  Many women miscarry during this window and never know they were pregnant.  Should we be sending you samples of all of our menstrual tissue to be tested for signs of a 2 week old lost fetus?

I was pregnant with twins.  Those twins were suspected by week 2 and confirmed by week 6.  Many women might confirm a pregnancy, but may or may not know that they are pregnant with twins.  Prior to the first ultrasound (and sometimes even after), a second fetus is undetectable and can be reabsorbed into the body due to VTS with no one ever knowing that second fetus existed.  Again, how would you like to be made aware of a lost twin that no one knew existed?  Because according to your law, the surviving fetus should be prosecuted for absorbing the body of the lost twin.

I had the benefit of access to some of the best medical care in the country.  I live 15 minutes from the largest hospital complex in the state of Washington and the health insurance and financial support of family to ensure that whatever care was recommended, I was able to to receive it.

Throughout my 19 week pregnancy, I saw a doctor a minimum of once every 2 weeks.  It is generally recommended that a woman be seen every 4 weeks or so.  But due to the fact that I had twins, it was an IVF pregnancy, and I was just a generally concerned first time mother, I had double the monitoring as considered standard for a healthy pregnancy.

I did no heavy lifting, I ate nothing on the no-no list, I washed up whenever I touched anything that might carry germs.

I was tested for infection around the 17 week mark and found to be clean.  I was tested for diabetes 10 weeks earlier than most women are and when it was found to be positive (despite my preventative measures), I monitored my blood glucose levels and we found that I was already following what the doctors would advise and there was nothing further I could do at that time to keep myself healthy.

At 18 weeks, I was tested for everything under the sun just to be on the safe side.  At 18 weeks and 4 days, I received all of the test results from my perinatologist and told that every test they could possibly run came back showing the three of us to be in perfect health.  All of my numbers were dead center in the range that they were supposed to be.

At 18 weeks and 5 days, I began to have cramps.  Around the midnight hour, I was in the ER in full labor.  The doctors were able to stop my labor.  Even so, my water broke and the fluid that was released showed proof that one of my girls had been in distress. 

As we moved to the 18 week and 6th day, we now knew that the girls had an infection.  As identical twins, once it was confirmed from the fluid of the first twin, it was inevitable that the second twin had the infection as well.

There were three options.

Wait for nature to take its course.  Since my body did not begin labor again naturally, had we been forced to wait for nature (as your law would demand), my body would not have expelled the infection until it had spread to my uterus.  From there, the uterus would have to be removed for me to survive.  That is, IF it did not spread enough to kill me despite all efforts.

Induce labor (breaking your law) and allow my girls to suffer as they inevitably died.  And by the time I finished labor, the infection might have taken me as well.

Or do a D&E (again, breaking your law) and remove the girls before they suffered, and allow me to keep my uterus so that I might have another chance to bring children into this world.

We opted for a D&E.  2 lives were inevitably lost.  Had we not opted for a D&E, a third life probably would have been lost as well.  And the embryos that I have in storage probably would have been destroyed rather than given a chance to become living children.

Mr. Franklin, since you believe I deserve to die, can you please pinpoint the crime that I committed and how I could have prevented it?  Because I can't find it.  And my doctors can't find it.  You want to kill me for the sin of surviving.

Believe me when I tell you that my survival of this ordeal is punishment enough.  Had your law been in effect, I would have left the hospital in either handcuffs or a body bag.  This law is not pro-life.  It would have killed me, killed my girls, and prevented the children I hope to have in the future from ever existing.

Sincerely,
A Miserable Miscarriage Mama

I don't have cancer

Ok, how crappy is my year going that learning I don't have cancer is actually a surprise?

Let me explain.

I have pale skin and several dark moles.  A couple of years ago, I went to get a torso check with the dermatologist and they removed one of my moles right then and there.  All tests came back benign, no problem.

So last week, I notice that my major mole, right in the middle of my stomach, it's oh so sexy, had scabbed over.  And I scratched it a little bit and it bled.

Oh crap.  That can't be good.

So I make an appointment to have my moles checked again and kind of resign myself to the fact that I'm probably going to have a brand new medical catastrophe thrown at me.

But no, nothing to be worried about.  She said that sometimes moles do that and she doesn't see anything to be concerned about.  Asked me about my bathing habits, how much soap do I use, stuff like that and compliments me that I'm doing everything exactly right and I have really beautiful skin.

Awesome!

Except for this damned rash I have on my forehead and around my hairline.  Basically dry patches that I kind of flake off with my nails every day so depending on where I am in the process, every day it's either flaky or red and inflamed.

Turns out I basically have dandruff on my face.  Again, oh so sexy.  And a touch of rosacea.  She gives me a mild antibiotic to clear up one of those issues and tells me to shampoo my hair and face (yes, shampoo my face) every day alternating between a formula with zinc (Head and shoulders) and that selenium acid stuff (Selson Blue).

So yay!  We're finally gonna clear this up!  But boo, if I shampoo my overly thick hair every single day, that means I'm walking around with wet hair for several hours every day.  Or spending a solid half hour with a hair dryer.  Washing my hair is a major time commitment unfortunately.  But I'll do it.  I'm really sick of this crap on my face and this should clear up my itchy scalp too.

She also froze off this perpetual mini scab I have on my cheek.  We're hoping it will heal flat finally.  So I have one of those little spot bandaids on my face at the moment to prevent me from picking at it.

And that's my exciting life.  Aren't you glad you popped by to read about it?  I'll try to do something interesting at some point, I promise.

Crawl out from under the rock, go running back under

Had a video shoot this evening with a very nice client.  I film her kids plays and it always goes well.  There's actually some talent at that school and fortunately, the kids of the person who hires me do have really spectacular voices and good acting skills.  It's so refreshing to be able to praise honestly rather than being all fake about it.

The last time this particular woman saw me was 2 days before I ended up in the ER.  I did a small business profile for her salon and I was fatter than usual and in the happy stage.  You know that stage where you tell everybody and their mailman that you're toting twins in the tummy.

So last week, I finally figured out how to politely let her know that I will not be giving birth in the spring as expected and would thus be available to film the spring musical.  She writes me back with all due sympathy, and her kids are in a show the following week.

Awesome!  A paying gig with a good client!

Went to the show went well.  A few rays of talent within the high school crowd.

Unfortunately, I had forgotten how the lead character dies.  Well, that triggered me like crazy.  Held it together until I could get my stuff packed after the show but had to ask my second camera operator to kind of block for me so I can get through the crowd of milling parents with my head down.  She shows me a back door and as soon as I step outside, I completely lost it.  I'm just crying into a wall and my friend is trying to figure out what to do.

She's a friend that I work with, but not a call on the phone and spew all of my emotions to type of friend.  Well, she got spewed on.  Sorry about that C.  Didn't mean to.

All I could think was that 2 months ago, I almost died.  And my babies DID die. 

THIS is why I'm not out in public very much.  I'm mean really, a high school production of Our Town can make me cry?  Ugh!  I hate this.  I hate being someone who hears my own situation in every song lyric.  Who sees more meaning in the stupid every day stuff.  Someone who just cries.

I get home and K can see it on my face.  "You ok?"  "no"  "drama too much for you?"  "yes"  And I start crying all over again.

K just got cast as Charlie Chaplin in a play.  He's trying to refer to the roll as Chaplin, but obviously I'm hearing the name Charlie a lot lately.

Where's that rock?  I'm crawling back under.

Dear K,

In the 12 months since we celebrated our last Valentine's Day, a whole lot about what I knew to be true has been proven wrong.  Every knowledge I was secure in, kaput.  Some of those "truths" include:

• I have a friend who's incapable of being mean and wouldn't chose to do so even if she were capable of it.  
• Bitch

•  I can't get pregnant.  
• With help I can apparently, and with twins!  Who'da thunk it?

• Once we're past the first 3 months, it's safe to not just hope for kids but to actually plan for them.  
• At least now we have an awesome closet

• I have really, REALLY thick hair.  
• Seriously, my ponytail used to be huge and now it's half the size, wtf?

• I will never tolerate more than 10 minutes at a time on the treadmill, and I'll agonize over every second of those 10 minutes.  
• I'm averaging about 15 minutes before I look to see if I can stop now

• If anything is dependent on me following a proper diet, I'm completely doomed.  
• Apparently not, I can actually figure out things like protein and carbs and crap and follow a plan if it's important enough

•  I suck at math.
• I have seen more numbers in more configurations in the last month than I ever thought could ever exist.

To me, all of these things were universally true.  My faith in everything I know has been turned upside down.

Everything except one thing.  You.  You are here, you will always be here, and I like you.  I really really like you.  And with everything around me falling to shit, I'm struck by how secure I am in you.  I know we're not the couple with our hands all over each other and schmooping all over the place when we're in public.  We don't make people want to gag by being "THAT couple" anymore like when we were first together.  But what we lack in schmooping, we make up for in security and a genuine affection.  The affection is so deep, we don't have to prove it all the time.

I wish I could love you more today than other days, but my love for you overflows every day of the year.  I love you every minute of every day.  I always will.  Happy Valentine's Day sweetie.