Roller coaster ride

All week long I've been tossing and turning from about 2am on with the worst stomach cramps ever, and my body just wants to rid itself of anything that comes its way. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with me until I received a message from my stepmom yesterday that reduced me to tears as she cried into the phone. She said she misses Korbin too, and that she knows how long it's been, 12weeks this Friday, since we lost him. It hit me. My body is going into repeat of June 1st. Every freaking day this week. It's Groundhog's Day from Hell. And oh so cruel. I finally told one of my coworkers as she kept asking if I thought I had a virus or something else. She understood what I was trying to say as I began to cry and break down a bit in front of her and didn't need any further explanation. It sucks. It really fucking sucks. And it's not fair and it's not supposed to be how life is for Ryan and me. We're supposed to be happy and getting ready for Korbin. Instead, 12weeks ago today I left work the happiest I have ever been in my life. We finished Korbin's Babies R Us registry. And then June 1st came. I've been in such a time warp. Last memories being of myself pregnant as if trying to block out what happened, yet holding onto my memories of Korbin with us so desperately too. It's an emotional roller coaster.
I just want my baby back. Because I got a lotta love to give.

Crying

I have an ever present headache and sore throat now from crying every day since June 1st. Every day. And I'm not talking 5-10minutes. This is an hour in the least, coughing and sputtering while trying to quiet at times to let Ryan sleep from whatever weird work schedule he's on. So much crying.
Our neighbors are Thai-Laos and Vietnamese. Lan, the mother of three beautiful boys (their first born was delivered at 24weeks3days...) explained to me yesterday that in their culture, when someone dies, you do not cry. They believe that when you cry, the person you lost looks back. And in looking back to you their journey to Heaven is halted, and they become caught in between. They want their loved ones' spirits to make it to Heaven, so they mustn't cry in order to let them go.
These were very powerful words for me to take in yesterday. I feel such a constant pain that usually overwhelms me and brings me straight to tears. The pain from this incredibly difficult loss (my eyes are welling up with tears as I write this now) taps into a part of me that so strongly wants Korbin back I almost believe I can have him back if I will it hard enough. But I have to let him go. I have to let my precious angel in Heaven rest in peace. So much easier said than done.
Today I pondered a lot how I can emotionally let him go. There is guilt associated with this as it sounds and seems like I am forgetting him, or trying to move on. But that is just the opposite. I am simply trying to accept that he's gone, and nothing can change that. I can't will him back to life, back into my protective arms. And at the same time, I desperately need my baby to care for. Korbin is irreplaceable, but that doesn't mean by having more kids we're trying to replace him. And why must I punish myself and push off having more children? Yes, Korbin deserves his time to be remembered. He is forever in my heart. Forever.
Knowing this, I need to try for more kids sooner than later. To me, waiting to have more kids a) wasn't the original plan (we wanted to have them "boom boom" as Ryan says), and b) is putting life on hold. Thinking this way helps me put a purpose to every day life again. Working, moving up the ladder and making more money, continuing to fix the house, etc. I didn't understand it at first, and at first thought waiting was the most appropriate thing to do, but I totally get why couples try again so soon after a loss. We were ready to have kids, so why stop now? We're not getting any younger.
Ryan is not on the same page however. Completely understandable. We have a few things to get in order still. And I'm pretty sure I speak for us both when I say that we're scared to death to lose a child. It's the most difficult loss either of us has had to deal with, keeps us at each others' throats at times because we're on such opposite wavelengths in grieving. But I guess you can't let fear stop you from living life. I think I already blogged about doing something every day that scares you. I think I'm doing that, but I could do more for sure. I just want to nurture my family. Because I got a lotta love to give.

Baby Love, My Baby Love

I haven't written in quite some time because what I'm about write is the most painful experience I've ever had in my life.
On June 1st I woke up not feeling well, but knowing I had my 24week appointment at 10am, told myself everything would be fine. I got Ryan to work, then came home to bathe and get dressed. There was rhythmic tightening that just kept coming. It never hurt, but it kept coming on more frequently. Going to the bathroom just before leaving there was some blood. There had been some the night before, but it went away. The on-call doc said to come in if it continued, but it stopped. I got to my ob's office, checked in, and then told the nurse,'I think I'm in Pre-term labor.' She rolled her eyes, asked why I thought that, and then promptly got my doc after hearing my symptoms.
Dr. Pray did just a partial, quick check and confirmed what I had been fearing. I was in full labor and the bag of waters was showing. Too far along to try and slow labor down now, but she assured me babies can survive being born at 24weeks. Ultrasound showed Korbin had flipped from his always head down position to being back down. Each contraction was therefore bending him in half. I left my body I think when Pre-term labor was confirmed. And I'm not sure I've fully returned to it yet.
I was rushed to the OR, and twelve minutes after entering the OR Korbin was born.The anesthesiologist, Dr. Morgan, had to knock me out as the epidural didn't have time to kick in and I could feel everything. When he woke me up, he congratulated me and everything seemed okay for a moment. Then I heard the perinatologist ask for a shot of epinephrine. Then he asked for a second. Then he asked to try one more. I knew something was wrong. Dr. Morgan put his hand on my head and said, 'I am so sorry.'
The next thing I knew Korbin was being held by my side, and then Ryan walked in. He had been lost in the hospital for 30min and only found me with the help of my boss, Cindee. The nurse asked if we wanted to baptize him and I said yes. I baptized my son with tap water out of a styrofoam cup. Not exactly the baptism I had envisioned for him. As they held him at my side, I just stared at him and cried, willing him to live. He made a sound, which at the time I interpreted as a precious tiny baby sound. Now that sound haunts me as I've realized it was from him trying to breathe, but his lungs were just too premature to handle the outside world still.
As we waited for a more permanent room for me to recover from surgery in, Korbin was placed on my chest. As family came in, they slowly realized he was there. So tiny, he almost went unnoticed. We had time with him. He was born at 10:59am, 1lb 8oz and 13inches long at 24weeks5days. He was pronounced while laying on my chest at 12:45pm. Cold. I'll never forget how cold he felt to my lips when I kissed him on his forehead. I wish I'd kissed him sooner. I had Chelsea get a couple of pictures of me holding him, and the hospital took some pictures for us too. He was so bruised from the contractions, but he was the most beautiful baby I have ever laid my eyes on. A spitting image of Ryan, everything I had hoped and prayed he would be.
The perinatologist strongly suggested an autopsy to explain why they couldn't incubate, or why his heart wouldn't respond to the epinephrine when it had started out so strong. He made us believe we had something wrong with that we were passing on. As times passed, I actually leaned on this as the reason for him to not be with us. I began to believe that life would not have been good for him because whatever difficulties he had. But we got the report only to find out he was the perfect baby boy I had hoped and prayed for. He was perfect. That crushed me. As if I hadn't named myself enough beforehand.
How do I feel? How am I managing? Not well, despite what everyone tells me. I keep hearing how strong I am, but I feel like I'm crumbling away inside. I can't wrap my brain around not having him with us. I'm angry he's gone, and I would give anything to have him here with us, anything. The pain in my heart, the grief, is so overwhelming sometimes it paralyzes me. I've lost my drive in life. Everything I've done and was doing was to make life perfect for Korbin. I am so incredibly sad. I just want to cradle him in my arms. Call out to him while I watch him play in the back yard. Cook for him. Pick the perfect school. Finish his nursery. His race car nursery. I was so happy, so excited. That's gone now. It all left me when I let go of him and the nurse walked out of our room with him, never to be seen or touched or held again. Life was so perfect, and now there will always be a hole where Korbin's supposed to be. Birthdays, holidays, future children. I didn't know how deeply I could love someone until I found out he was coming. I will always love my precious Korbin.
Baby Love, My Baby Love.

School Revisited

About a month and a half ago (March 30th to be exact), I met with an admissions admin at the University of Washington to go over my most recent application. I was nervous and unsure what to expect, and therefore a bit surprised the meeting was somewhat like a mini interview that also went over my initial application. We started with a catch up on my life, what's new with me, and I happily said I am pregnant now. Stella, the admin I met with, asked me how that has changed things for me. I said it hasn't really thanks to the support and encouragement from the docs I work with currently. She asked me then to explain further what kind of encouragement they gave me. I felt myself flush as I didn't expect to start analyzing my pregnancy and how it affects my application in the future, but was able to answer as I have discussed the balancing of family and medicine with quite a few docs (I did not say that they told me to have kids now, even it means during school, as I won't have time later). We moved past that topic to my initial application, from which I actually had an interview. First thing Stella tells me is that the interviewers loved me, but I was slightly unclear in person about my intent to go into medicine as compared to my written application. I admitted I had had the flu and was trying to recover from it, and then, to my utter embarrassment, began sobbing uncontrolably (can I blame preggo hormones please?). The meeting stopped for an agonizing few minutes while I regained control of my emotions, and finally we went over this. Needless to say, I was mortified I did this! But Stella was awesome, reassuring and understanding, and even had tissues on hand (this must happen often...). More than anything, I was so frustrated with myself for not rescheduling, and Stella even remarked that even from a public health stand point, UW would have easily rescheduled. So embarrassed at this point. Finally we moved on to my application. Like Stella had already said, they loved me, especially ability to connect my car hobby to medicine. That really stood out to them. (Basically, things don't always go as planned, and instead of getting frustrated and giving up, one must try a new approach, ie a different part. The same goes for medicine as one medication may be prescribed, but may not be what is needed and physician and patient must work together to find the solution and not give up.) A couple of questions I fumbled big time were: what are three things I look forward to in medicine, and three that make me nervous perhaps; and how would handle the allocation of funds to those in such programs as Medicare or Medicaid. The real thought provoking questions, that I totally could have thought through had I not been sick and on DayQuil...yah, über frustrating that I bombed those. I can easily think of answers to those now. Besides that, my second application is just too similar to my initial one, and they even suggested I take time off before applying again. All of this is very good feedback, and I'm actually still unsure how I feel about applying again someday. A part of me still feels a draw, but the other larger part is so happy and satisfied with where life is going now (see my last post). I am definitely glad I met with Stella and received all of this amazing feedback. It really feels good to know that the school does really like me as a candidate, boosts my confidence a bit honestly, I just need to get my act together should I apply again. And so should I? Ry has mentioned that where he's headed in life could take us to another country at some point in life, something we both want for us and our children. But that means quitting (or does it? Could I take a leave of absence?) and following. Which also means time to get back into my studies, take the MCAT again...and maybe reapply once more? Who knows! It's kind of exciting to think of those possibilities. I also found out recently that to be an official laboratory director, one must have a PhD, and that's why my boss' lab must have our off-site lab director as he has the PhD and she doesn't. Maybe I could get mine and be a laboratory director someday? That's a really exciting possibility as well! Life holds so much still, and I'm ready to rise to whatever challenge comes my way, because I got a lotta love to give!

Enough

It's been way too long since my last post, but I have been a LOT internally. What's remained forefront in my mind is the epiphany I had about myself a couple of months ago. First, I should mention I am pregnant and we found out in the beginning of January. Discovering that amazing news did not change my drive for medicine in the least. It's something I still want, and need to be a part of in my daily life. Back to my epiphany: I realized that not applying to medical school earlier in life was my own fault, that I was the one holding myself back because I didn't think I was smart enough or that I could really do it. Yet, a couple of months, I realized I had finally broken passed that barrier, feeling like I am smart and quick enough. I can do it. I just need a school to see that and accept me.
Sadly, none of the 13 schools I applied to this year accepted me. But I'm okay with it as I don't need them to tell me whether or not I am capable of being a fantastic student or possible future physician. What a seriously amazing feeling and realization for me, and a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. My spirits have raised, and I feel so much more content and at peace with life now. I am really happy.
Despite not getting in to school again, I have also been awakened now to how much I love the life that I have. My husband, our small fixer-upper home (which really is a love-hate relationship as we slowly work our way through each room being remodeled...), our two puppy dogs, and now our little guy on the way. And not only that, but I have reached my goal of being immersed within the medical field. The fertility laboratory I work for keeps me on my toes each day, and allows me the opportunities I have craved: working directly with patients, making difficult and quick decisions that can affect an outcome, working with a team of other professionals and physicians to make the even more difficult decisions together. I have that and I really do love it, I just didn't see that before.
So, who knows if medical school is still in the future for me. All I know is that it isn't in the now, but I'm okay with that. With everything that is happening and my husband and I are doing in life, I still got a lotta love to give, and now I can see that I am giving it each and every day.

Science

I've done two experiments with the Boys and Girls Club kids now, and I have so loved sharing my love for science with these kids!
Experiment one was chemical reactions: can you make alka seltzer dissolve faster? How? They designed the experiment. I timed it. And they explained why it worked. Awesome.
Experiment two was density: I brought oil, water, salt and a couple of eggs and had them ask different questions and design experiments on how to make an egg float in water. Über fun!!
These kids are so smart and have so much potential, I just love being able to encourage them to work hard and use their minds. That really is all they need to leave the riff raff behind and make something of themselves.
The mission statement for BandG basically says we need to show these kids they have the potential to work hard and make something of themselves, even when the rest of the world doesn't think they do. These kids are part of an undeserved area of South Seattle with limited funding in schools and most likely at home as parents struggle to feed them daily. Fortunately for me, I never really dealt with struggling to get an education, let alone food on my plate. I think that's why I love working with these kids. I am learning so much from them, and they make my heart bigger every time I work with them. I guess I got a lotta love to give.

Hurry up and wait...

Primary application. Check. Decent passport style photo. Check. Secondary applications and payments. Check. Check. Credit card payment. Paypal payment. Echeck. Check, check and check.... I've been writing my little heart out, digging deep and doing all sorts of soul searching. It's scary being so open and honest, it makes me feel vulnerable. And almost makes me second guess myself. Should I have been so honest? I know the answer to that, of course. And that's why I don't actually second guess any of it.
So now I'm waiting, and hoping. Praying. Wishing it were just so much easier. But I understand the process. All I can do now is continue to prepare myself for interviews. Practicing speaking techniques, staying calm under pressure, researching ethical issues to have a stance or at least an understanding of them, and being confident in my thoughts and explanations. I definitely feel much more calm this time around, already having been through the interview process at two very different schools. And excited too. Not quite the naive excitement that I felt last year, but excited about what the future holds for me and for my family no matter what the outcome is. So much good is happening, and things just feel on track. Like I'm headed in the right direction. It's an amazing feeling and gives me that extra boost of self confidence.
I applied to 13 schools total, and three have already sent me their rejection letters. Ten schools remain.  I just need to stay focused and keep working hard, reading and broadening my understanding of the medical field, ethics, and even research. I have to make this happen for myself, because I got a lotta love to give.