So. We had our consult with Dr. Hudson at VFC. The LP and I both liked him.
The good news: He is prepared to work with Dr. Braverman if we want to try again. But. He’s not prepared to be the prescribing physician and was candid about his discomfort about with the steroid dosages I was on and the aggressive protocol and were I his daughter in my current circumstances he would have concerns about the inherent risks. I believe I said “fair comment” several times. Or thought it as many times as I verbalized.
He raised a number of risks and concerns given my history, my age, the fact we have more to lose now – all of which I had considered but which the LP clearly had not (even though they were on my “cons” list which we had shared).
On the whole it was a very sobering and emotionally exhausting experience. I felt as though I’d been punched in the gut. And the heart.
I think it’s fair to say we’ve each been grieving and feeling quite low ever since. For different reasons. And one common reason.
I’ve had a few hard cries holding baby A, owning that he is the last baby of mine I will ever carry, hold, raise. I’ve been numb and quietly aching for the most part. Tears have shuffled down my face the entire time it has taken me to write this.
So it goes.
There will be no baby sister (or brother) for the MT.
I will not have any more children.
I haven’t even bothered telling the LP that to “work with” Dr. Braverman another doctor must be the prescribing physician. Game over. Hudson is out of the equation even if we wanted to gamble with the risks.
And I will never forget that the risks to me were the scariest part of baby A’s pregnancy for the LP so he would not be on board. Period.
This has been a tough post to write and I cannot even touch into the myriad of feelings I am stuffing down about it all right now (I need my game face on at work this week after all). Suffice to say I’m hurting. I’m sad. And I’m trying to let go. Again. Forever this time.