Weekly blood draws to measure the hcG level found in the body after a molar pregnancy is vital to detecting the cancer that can develop from the abnormalities this pregnancy brings. Remember not every woman's case is like mine. Many women will not even develop this cancer, their numbers falling to "0" (5 or less than 5) in the matter of a few weeks. Yet for those of us who do, this disease can be described as fickle at best. What one woman may be going through may be different for the next woman. What does remain the same is that while your numbers are being monitored, it is extremely vital that the woman does not get pregnant. For the woman whose numbers go down with out any increase or the need for chemo, they are given roughly a 6 month waiting period in which they urged not to conceive. For the woman that needs chemo this waiting period is extended to a full 12 months. The reason it is so important for a woman to not get pregnant is that with every pregnancy the level of hcGwill rise, and as monitoring these levels are the only way to determine if the cancer has come back, it could be putting you and your unborn baby at risk by not waiting to conceive until the allotted time is finished. This cancer may start in the uterus, but since the abnormal cells can develop as fast as a normal developing baby would, this cancer can spread through out the body starting with the lungs, liver, and eventually the brain without proper and prompt treatment. Sure the doctors will preform an ultrasound to make sure it isn't the cancer, but after going through something like this wouldn't you like to do everything possible to make sure your next pregnancy ends with a healthy baby! For those of us already dealing with a Molar Pregnancy, there is a 1-2% chance for conceiving another mole, and a 10% chance for conceiving a third, with this percentage increase with mole. 1-2% may not seem like much, but when a woman had already beaten the 5% odds and been diagnosed with cancer, 1% seems infinitely high.
But don't despair Gestational Trophoblastic Disease isn't a death sentence for future children that I once believed it was, in fact I have read of a woman who in between 2 molar pregnancies went on to have 5 healthy and beautiful children.
It's important to remember that even after chemo, a woman with GTD can also have a healthy baby. Unlike most other chemo treatments that leave you infertile, with the treatments used for this cancer, a woman should be able to go on and have future children. For most women going through this, just knowing they can still bear children is a life line they hold on to tightly. Just knowing that making it through treatments, through the waiting period, knowing that there is hope for another child makes all the difference in the world.
Knowing that I'll be able to try to conceive again once I am cancer free doesn't stop the fear of recurrence, the fear that another molar pregnancy is in my future, or the fear that I may not be able to conceive again. Yet weighing it all together, there is a part of me that desperately wants the 4 children I've always dreamed about. What the future may bring, no one knows, but just knowing that may dreams for more children won't end at 25 (26 when my 12 months are over) gives me a hope that I may one day hold another baby.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Out and About
The days after learning of the miscarriage were spent fairly close to home. Not knowing what to expect, or when to expect things to happen I put myself on a sort of house arrest after coming to the conclusion it would be better if and when my body decided to miscarry if it was at home. It would never happen. Since that time I'd been getting out and about, doctor appointments, grocery shopping, dining out, small things where you always seem to run into a baby here and there. It wasn't too much of a problem for me, a slight emotion tug as a buggy with a baby seated in a carrier passed us and the kids cry out, "Look there's a baby." And smile passes between the new mom and myself. One baby at at time is okay, I can handle that, but one evening in particular with at the local Mexican restaurant God was surely testing me. I believe this was the Saturday following the arrival of my pin.
While we were eating, a family was seated beside us, to the back of us not a big deal at the time, until I noticed the 10 year old girls seated with them were identical twins, but it still wasn't too bad. They weren't babies, yet having read all the research that pointed to a Partial Mole being a set of twins gone wrong, just seeing them pulled at my heartstrings with much more than a slight tug, it was a yearning, a wanting, a wish that I was still pregnant with the twins I had prayed for each night before that first ultrasound and often kidded Terry about. Even after realizing the girls were twins, dinner was going along fine, I was fine, I was, until two tables were pushed together for a big party. A party that seated a pair of twin girls, not much older than 5 months at either end of the table right in my line of vision. It was hard to see, hard to feel, and as my eyes filled with tears for what wouldn't be, I told my husband, God's testing me. Maybe He was, maybe He wasn't, but I know I passed. I wiped the few trickles that fell and went right on with the dinner I was sharing with my kids, the ones I could hold and the one I could kiss every night before bed. No matter how much I longed for the baby that would never be, I couldn't forget the baby God had already given me. Bringing such joy and entertainment to my life everyday, they are a true blessing.
The next day was Sunday and as I remember the sequence of events, I believe I am wearing my little pin and a red sweater. As two women from the church ask how I am before services, I tell them of the night before, twins, the test, and overcoming the emotions of it all. Then these two mothers with their own children told me each of their own pain with loss. One, a mother whose child died on the operating table as the doctors tried to give him a better life had also been through an unimaginable 8 miscarriages. The second mother had lost her first born son, a Downs baby, either moments after his birth or before he even drew his first breath (this conversation is sort of blurred). These women, members of my church, knew what I was going through and were able to tell me they still think of their babies everyday, and everyday they think of them it doesn't hurt quite as bad as the day before, or as bad as the day before that. And it's true.
While we were eating, a family was seated beside us, to the back of us not a big deal at the time, until I noticed the 10 year old girls seated with them were identical twins, but it still wasn't too bad. They weren't babies, yet having read all the research that pointed to a Partial Mole being a set of twins gone wrong, just seeing them pulled at my heartstrings with much more than a slight tug, it was a yearning, a wanting, a wish that I was still pregnant with the twins I had prayed for each night before that first ultrasound and often kidded Terry about. Even after realizing the girls were twins, dinner was going along fine, I was fine, I was, until two tables were pushed together for a big party. A party that seated a pair of twin girls, not much older than 5 months at either end of the table right in my line of vision. It was hard to see, hard to feel, and as my eyes filled with tears for what wouldn't be, I told my husband, God's testing me. Maybe He was, maybe He wasn't, but I know I passed. I wiped the few trickles that fell and went right on with the dinner I was sharing with my kids, the ones I could hold and the one I could kiss every night before bed. No matter how much I longed for the baby that would never be, I couldn't forget the baby God had already given me. Bringing such joy and entertainment to my life everyday, they are a true blessing.
The next day was Sunday and as I remember the sequence of events, I believe I am wearing my little pin and a red sweater. As two women from the church ask how I am before services, I tell them of the night before, twins, the test, and overcoming the emotions of it all. Then these two mothers with their own children told me each of their own pain with loss. One, a mother whose child died on the operating table as the doctors tried to give him a better life had also been through an unimaginable 8 miscarriages. The second mother had lost her first born son, a Downs baby, either moments after his birth or before he even drew his first breath (this conversation is sort of blurred). These women, members of my church, knew what I was going through and were able to tell me they still think of their babies everyday, and everyday they think of them it doesn't hurt quite as bad as the day before, or as bad as the day before that. And it's true.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
An Emotional Day
February 12, 2008 was an emotional day for me. I tried my best to be upbeat as I walked into the office where I would give my first vial of blood since finding out what it really meant. I was excited to find out that I wouldn't have to pay a co-pay since I wouldn't be seeing the doctor. When I was called back, I took my place in the appointed chair and tried to calm my nerves, by telling the tech what was going on. What started as upbeat, ended a bit like a deflating balloon. It would take 3 different sticks and around 10-15 minutes to get one vial of blood. My veins were already feeling the added pressure of once weekly draws and it did nothing to help keep my spirits high. I wasn't an emotional mess, nor was I strictly trying to hide what I felt, but aside from a few times, I never really cried. You can attribute it to shock or denial, but it just wasn't the time for tears. . . yet.
Pulling up at my house following my visit, I checked my mail, noting with happiness that the package I was on the look out for had finally arrived. Days before my mom had let me know it was coming, something a friend of hers thought would help, and I was eager to open it. There is no real way to truly describe what I felt when I opened the package and found what was inside. The first thing that really caught my eye was a book titled, I'll Hold You In Heaven by Jack Hayford, the next was a tiny pin, close to the size of a dime, silver and cast in the image of a pair of feet. Lastly was a card and inside a personal letter from the sender relating to me her own personal story of loss. She shared with me how she had lost her baby at 31 weeks and how she would be praying for me, and while it broke my heart that another mother had been through this same ordeal, I felt a unique kinship with her. A bond created by the loss of a child, not matter the difference in gestation age. Here was someone beside family who understood my pain and had suffered a much greater loss. Tears filled my eyes as I read what she had wrote, but it would be the simple meaning behind the pin of feet that would be my undoing.
Towards the end of the letter, it was simply stated that the tiny silver feet included were cast as close as can be to the exact size of a baby at 10 weeks gestation.
I have and always will have a soft spot for baby's feet. From the time each of my children were born, I would from time to time, and still do, rub the soft soles of their feet along my cheeks. I'll never know why I've always had a special liking to those ten toes, but I can tell you with complete honestly, if my new friend had chosen a pin with a pair of hands, I don' t think that it would have affected me so dearly. Without a doubt I know God chose her for the express purpose of helping me to grieve the loss of my unborn baby and that's exactly what happened.
When the full impact of the meaning of those tiny feet hit me, it was like the flood gates had been released. I cried for the sweetness of the gesture, I cried for the loss my new friend had experienced, I cried for the baby I had lost, and I cried for myself and I cried for my family. And in doing so was finally able to grieve in a way that would leave me healing. I will forever feel the loss of my child, a bittersweet longing that I wouldn't trade for anything, but I know that with this death came a purpose. Because I am a believer in Jesus Christ, my name is written in the Book of Life, and this gives me the ability to one day see the baby I never had a chance hold when I am called to Heaven. For many mothers who have experienced the loss of a child through miscarriage or other means and are not Christians, they will never see their baby again. Such a heartening thought, to never be able to see the one you longed for and lost. I feel that part of God's Will for me to do many things in life, one part of which is bringing the unbeliever to know Christ so that they can one day so I will see my child again. How I will go about this, I'm not exactly sure, that part is still unclear. But what is clear is that so many people need to know not only about this rare and heart breaking cancer and what the women diagnosed with it are going through during this emotional time, but what effect miscarriage has on the non Believer and how coming to know Jesus Christ as their Lord and Saviour can help them in ways so many other things can't, as well as helping the believer who's faith in their God has become shaky and unstable.
God will lead me on the path He wants me to take, all it'll take is some time, an open mind, and and open heart for His direction to become known.
Pulling up at my house following my visit, I checked my mail, noting with happiness that the package I was on the look out for had finally arrived. Days before my mom had let me know it was coming, something a friend of hers thought would help, and I was eager to open it. There is no real way to truly describe what I felt when I opened the package and found what was inside. The first thing that really caught my eye was a book titled, I'll Hold You In Heaven by Jack Hayford, the next was a tiny pin, close to the size of a dime, silver and cast in the image of a pair of feet. Lastly was a card and inside a personal letter from the sender relating to me her own personal story of loss. She shared with me how she had lost her baby at 31 weeks and how she would be praying for me, and while it broke my heart that another mother had been through this same ordeal, I felt a unique kinship with her. A bond created by the loss of a child, not matter the difference in gestation age. Here was someone beside family who understood my pain and had suffered a much greater loss. Tears filled my eyes as I read what she had wrote, but it would be the simple meaning behind the pin of feet that would be my undoing.
Towards the end of the letter, it was simply stated that the tiny silver feet included were cast as close as can be to the exact size of a baby at 10 weeks gestation.
I have and always will have a soft spot for baby's feet. From the time each of my children were born, I would from time to time, and still do, rub the soft soles of their feet along my cheeks. I'll never know why I've always had a special liking to those ten toes, but I can tell you with complete honestly, if my new friend had chosen a pin with a pair of hands, I don' t think that it would have affected me so dearly. Without a doubt I know God chose her for the express purpose of helping me to grieve the loss of my unborn baby and that's exactly what happened.
When the full impact of the meaning of those tiny feet hit me, it was like the flood gates had been released. I cried for the sweetness of the gesture, I cried for the loss my new friend had experienced, I cried for the baby I had lost, and I cried for myself and I cried for my family. And in doing so was finally able to grieve in a way that would leave me healing. I will forever feel the loss of my child, a bittersweet longing that I wouldn't trade for anything, but I know that with this death came a purpose. Because I am a believer in Jesus Christ, my name is written in the Book of Life, and this gives me the ability to one day see the baby I never had a chance hold when I am called to Heaven. For many mothers who have experienced the loss of a child through miscarriage or other means and are not Christians, they will never see their baby again. Such a heartening thought, to never be able to see the one you longed for and lost. I feel that part of God's Will for me to do many things in life, one part of which is bringing the unbeliever to know Christ so that they can one day so I will see my child again. How I will go about this, I'm not exactly sure, that part is still unclear. But what is clear is that so many people need to know not only about this rare and heart breaking cancer and what the women diagnosed with it are going through during this emotional time, but what effect miscarriage has on the non Believer and how coming to know Jesus Christ as their Lord and Saviour can help them in ways so many other things can't, as well as helping the believer who's faith in their God has become shaky and unstable.
God will lead me on the path He wants me to take, all it'll take is some time, an open mind, and and open heart for His direction to become known.
Monday, April 14, 2008
My Plan of Attack
Waking up the morning of Feb. 7, 2008, I began to form my plan of attack.
First thing on the list was to send an email to my pastor and let him know what was going on. I had decided that if it came to be that I was diagnosed with Gestational Trohpblastic Disease, I would ask for a partial hysterectomy and shave my head if need be. I would do whatever it took to get ahead of the of this disease, while getting a good kick to the devil in. This chain of thought would become my mantra for the next few weeks, because like the intuition I had before the miscarriage, I had the same feeling that I would need the chemo before it was all over.
My email was then sent on to the rest of the members of the church that were on the email prayer chain and because prayer is such a powerful thing, and I wanted to publicly acknowledge that I could be faced with cancer, that Sunday, I stood in front of entire church, to ask for prayers, letting them know about the miscarriage and the what it could result in. Before the service was over, everyone gathered around me and prayed over me.
We'd been going to our church for close to 2 years by this time and the members there had become like a second family to me. Church had become a sort of safe heaven from the day to day chores during the week, I LOVE the praise and worship service we have during the 9 o'clock service know as Fusion, a collection of upbeat and get you going music designed for the whole family to praise God and have fun. I can't carry a tune and all my musical ability seems to have been placed in my left foot as my hands can't clap a steady beat with the music unless I concentrate really hard, but my left foot seems to be immune to my lack of musical ability and is rarely still when the music is playing. Every Sunday, my mind finds refuge with the songs that are sung, leaving me feel like I'm floating on a cloud almost until the next Sunday.
I used that feeling to help get me through my first weekly blood drawl after learning what it really means, on Feb. 12, 2008.
First thing on the list was to send an email to my pastor and let him know what was going on. I had decided that if it came to be that I was diagnosed with Gestational Trohpblastic Disease, I would ask for a partial hysterectomy and shave my head if need be. I would do whatever it took to get ahead of the of this disease, while getting a good kick to the devil in. This chain of thought would become my mantra for the next few weeks, because like the intuition I had before the miscarriage, I had the same feeling that I would need the chemo before it was all over.
My email was then sent on to the rest of the members of the church that were on the email prayer chain and because prayer is such a powerful thing, and I wanted to publicly acknowledge that I could be faced with cancer, that Sunday, I stood in front of entire church, to ask for prayers, letting them know about the miscarriage and the what it could result in. Before the service was over, everyone gathered around me and prayed over me.
We'd been going to our church for close to 2 years by this time and the members there had become like a second family to me. Church had become a sort of safe heaven from the day to day chores during the week, I LOVE the praise and worship service we have during the 9 o'clock service know as Fusion, a collection of upbeat and get you going music designed for the whole family to praise God and have fun. I can't carry a tune and all my musical ability seems to have been placed in my left foot as my hands can't clap a steady beat with the music unless I concentrate really hard, but my left foot seems to be immune to my lack of musical ability and is rarely still when the music is playing. Every Sunday, my mind finds refuge with the songs that are sung, leaving me feel like I'm floating on a cloud almost until the next Sunday.
I used that feeling to help get me through my first weekly blood drawl after learning what it really means, on Feb. 12, 2008.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
What Happens Next
Life doesn't just stop when you get bad news. It keeps going no matter what and when children are included in the picture, you need to keep things as normal as possible. Between phone calls following the ill fated doctors appointment, our first stop was Target. The kids had been bribbed with a new toy if they were good for dad and we had to make good on our word. Better yet, being such country hicks mom and dad hadn't been in Target before!! A new experience for everyone. The kids came away with the newest Dark Watch Optimus Prime Transformer and a Snow White Barbie doll. Mom got a new book written by J.D. Robb (Nora Roberts, my favorite author) and later dad would get a new PlayStation game at the adjacent Best Buy. Lunch was an indulgence of steak and lobster at Long Horn and I swear I've never met another 4 year old who turns her nose up at steak and goes whole hearted for lobster instead.
We tried to keep things light for the kids as we tried to absorb the shock into our systems. Since I remembered the nurse mention my numbers had been a few weeks before in the 300,000 range, I was told to prepare myself for chemo treatments. But not to worry my, as my Mom's boyfriend would put it, "If your hair falls out, we'll all make a trip to the Barber shop to have our heads shaved!!"
Tears would make their appearance through the last of my lunch, hearing this. It was a scary thought for someone who's closest encounter with cancer was by way of the t.v. and the radio. My mind had automatically jumped to extreme hair loss and infertility caused by the drugs that safe lives. It was awesome to hear such comforting words, words that would become my first step in this battle should it be needed. I wouldn't sit back and watch my hair fall out clump by clump, I'd get ahead of this disease and show it who was boss, I'd shave my head first!
Trying to find a bright side in what could possibly be a very dark time, I joked on the way home with my husband that if I did need chemo, I certainly wouldn't have to shave my legs for a while.
And it was then on the way home, that for the first time since dealing and coming to terms with his mom's death 8 months before, that I would see my husband cry. My heart that was already cracked and breaking, just shattered. Here was the man who'd given me all his love, his laughter, who put up with my crap and sometimes not very nice attitude, the man who had given me my children, sat there as he drove wiping at the tears that ran down his face, trying to hold back the sobs that I could see racking his strong shoulders. This would be the only time through out the coming weeks that I would see him cry.
Later that night, a little past 6:30, I got a call from my doctors nurse letting me know the result from my first hcG beta test. This is the test that counts the amount of hcG in the blood. It was 10,327. What blew my mind was when she said this number was supposed to be at 5! And reminded me I'd need a test every week until then. When I asked her what they had been when taken the Friday before the D and C, I was astonished. They were 253,000!!! Off the chart for an 8 week pregnancy. This number is usually found in women around their 16-20th week.
I waited until everyone was asleep that night to do my first research on the Internet about molar pregnancy. What I found was limited information scattered all over the place. Partial and Complete Moles are grouped together, without too much individual focus on either one. As I would come to understand later, the underlying basis as far as, statistics, and symptoms are pretty much all the same as is the treatment for the cancer. It's only difference laying in the core beginnings of conception.
That evening as I laid in bed, I prayed for God's Will to be done, for Him to give me the direction He wanted me to take, and for Him to give me the strength and the courage to walk the path He set before me, to give me the answers so that I could understand why this was happening.
I can't say that I've ever heard God speak to me. When He moves in my life, it's more like thoughts coming into my head spoken with my own voice. Thoughts I know He put there. God would certainly speak to me through out the night, so that when I woke up, my brain was already forming the plan of attack I would use to fight this disease.
We tried to keep things light for the kids as we tried to absorb the shock into our systems. Since I remembered the nurse mention my numbers had been a few weeks before in the 300,000 range, I was told to prepare myself for chemo treatments. But not to worry my, as my Mom's boyfriend would put it, "If your hair falls out, we'll all make a trip to the Barber shop to have our heads shaved!!"
Tears would make their appearance through the last of my lunch, hearing this. It was a scary thought for someone who's closest encounter with cancer was by way of the t.v. and the radio. My mind had automatically jumped to extreme hair loss and infertility caused by the drugs that safe lives. It was awesome to hear such comforting words, words that would become my first step in this battle should it be needed. I wouldn't sit back and watch my hair fall out clump by clump, I'd get ahead of this disease and show it who was boss, I'd shave my head first!
Trying to find a bright side in what could possibly be a very dark time, I joked on the way home with my husband that if I did need chemo, I certainly wouldn't have to shave my legs for a while.
And it was then on the way home, that for the first time since dealing and coming to terms with his mom's death 8 months before, that I would see my husband cry. My heart that was already cracked and breaking, just shattered. Here was the man who'd given me all his love, his laughter, who put up with my crap and sometimes not very nice attitude, the man who had given me my children, sat there as he drove wiping at the tears that ran down his face, trying to hold back the sobs that I could see racking his strong shoulders. This would be the only time through out the coming weeks that I would see him cry.
Later that night, a little past 6:30, I got a call from my doctors nurse letting me know the result from my first hcG beta test. This is the test that counts the amount of hcG in the blood. It was 10,327. What blew my mind was when she said this number was supposed to be at 5! And reminded me I'd need a test every week until then. When I asked her what they had been when taken the Friday before the D and C, I was astonished. They were 253,000!!! Off the chart for an 8 week pregnancy. This number is usually found in women around their 16-20th week.
I waited until everyone was asleep that night to do my first research on the Internet about molar pregnancy. What I found was limited information scattered all over the place. Partial and Complete Moles are grouped together, without too much individual focus on either one. As I would come to understand later, the underlying basis as far as, statistics, and symptoms are pretty much all the same as is the treatment for the cancer. It's only difference laying in the core beginnings of conception.
That evening as I laid in bed, I prayed for God's Will to be done, for Him to give me the direction He wanted me to take, and for Him to give me the strength and the courage to walk the path He set before me, to give me the answers so that I could understand why this was happening.
I can't say that I've ever heard God speak to me. When He moves in my life, it's more like thoughts coming into my head spoken with my own voice. Thoughts I know He put there. God would certainly speak to me through out the night, so that when I woke up, my brain was already forming the plan of attack I would use to fight this disease.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
A Little Information
That same afternoon and through out the following weeks after leaving the doctors office, through a few phone calls and online research, we learned a little bit more about molar pregnancies and the chance of the relating cancer. These are the basics, short and not so sweet.
A Partial Molar pregnancies is thought to be the result of something going wrong when a set of twins don't split, leaving the extra strand of DNA to develop into a tumor that essentially causes fetal death and if life is prolonged severe mental and physical defects. Notice I wrote thought to be. Upon more recent research, this explanation doesn't quite make much sense. Identical twins are made when ONE egg is fertilized by ONE sperm that in turn separates itself, giving the baby's identical sets of DNA as well as features. Fraternal twins are said to be made by TWO individual eggs being fertilized by TWO individual sperm that implant into the uterine wall at the same time. So, how is a Partial Molar conceived is the twin explanation doesn't fly? By ONE egg being fertilized by TWO sperm or ONE egg being fertilized by ONE sperm with TWO set of DNA. I guess it is possible for a set of twins to be conceived from one egg and two sperm if it does split, and this is what many of the scientists are thinking, I don't know if we'll ever know for sure. But what is does boil down to is that due to an extra set of DNA, a tumor was created that ends up killing the fetus, most often before 7 weeks. There have been cases of a mother needing to deliver in their 17 weeks do to a Partial Mole diagnosis, and it doesn't end well. I'm not sure if the baby ever took her first breath, but it was the affects of the mole lead to her death by way of spinal bifida, kidney failure, and severe mental defects and malformations. All my love and prayers go out to the mothers affected by molar pregnancy, more even more so when they are affected like this.
After learning this, I know it was better for my baby's death to have occurred when it did.
Besides a Partial Mole, there is another molar pregnancy called Complete Mole. In this instance, there are no fetal parts as opposed to the Partial Mole. In a Complete Mole, ONE sperm fertilizes ONE egg, but in this case, there is NO DNA in the egg from the mother. When the sperm fertilizes the empty egg, it duplicates its own DNA in order to compensate. When this happens, a complete tumor is conceived and is diagnosed during the first ultrasound with what appears to be a "snowstorm" like appearance due to the fact that a women's body only recognizes that it's pregnant by the hormone levels in the woman's body. When a women conceives, these levels known as hcG increase dramatically in order to do what nature intended, causing morning sickness, no periods, and breast tenderness, along with increased urination and the other bodily functions that plague a woman with child.
The body itself doesn't exactly recognize the difference between a tumor or a fetus or a live fetus or a dead one to a certain extent where a mole is concerned. This is the reason it is so important that when a miscarriage occurs to monitor the levels of hcG. With a Molar Pregnancy, these levels are extremely high and even though they may fall into a some what more normal range, any increase can indicated that there was tissue left behind from when the removed the Complete or Partial Mole by way of D and C and the abnormal cells in the tumorous tissue have invaded and infected the lining of the woman's uterus, causing the cancer known as Gestational Trophoblastic Disease. This can also be known as an Invasive Mole.
In the U.S. molar pregnancies occur with every 1 in 1200-1500 pregnancies. The chance of getting cancer following a Partial Mole is only 5%. Thats odds of 80 in 1,920,000. For a Complete Mole, the chance increase to 15-20%. Something like 92-96 in 1,920,000 (I think, math's not my strongest subject). Which ever way you look at it, this would only happen if it was in God's plan. Sure it's the devils doing making such innocence into ugliness, but it's God who will give women the strength to overcome the devil and to triumph over such circumstances.
A Partial Molar pregnancies is thought to be the result of something going wrong when a set of twins don't split, leaving the extra strand of DNA to develop into a tumor that essentially causes fetal death and if life is prolonged severe mental and physical defects. Notice I wrote thought to be. Upon more recent research, this explanation doesn't quite make much sense. Identical twins are made when ONE egg is fertilized by ONE sperm that in turn separates itself, giving the baby's identical sets of DNA as well as features. Fraternal twins are said to be made by TWO individual eggs being fertilized by TWO individual sperm that implant into the uterine wall at the same time. So, how is a Partial Molar conceived is the twin explanation doesn't fly? By ONE egg being fertilized by TWO sperm or ONE egg being fertilized by ONE sperm with TWO set of DNA. I guess it is possible for a set of twins to be conceived from one egg and two sperm if it does split, and this is what many of the scientists are thinking, I don't know if we'll ever know for sure. But what is does boil down to is that due to an extra set of DNA, a tumor was created that ends up killing the fetus, most often before 7 weeks. There have been cases of a mother needing to deliver in their 17 weeks do to a Partial Mole diagnosis, and it doesn't end well. I'm not sure if the baby ever took her first breath, but it was the affects of the mole lead to her death by way of spinal bifida, kidney failure, and severe mental defects and malformations. All my love and prayers go out to the mothers affected by molar pregnancy, more even more so when they are affected like this.
After learning this, I know it was better for my baby's death to have occurred when it did.
Besides a Partial Mole, there is another molar pregnancy called Complete Mole. In this instance, there are no fetal parts as opposed to the Partial Mole. In a Complete Mole, ONE sperm fertilizes ONE egg, but in this case, there is NO DNA in the egg from the mother. When the sperm fertilizes the empty egg, it duplicates its own DNA in order to compensate. When this happens, a complete tumor is conceived and is diagnosed during the first ultrasound with what appears to be a "snowstorm" like appearance due to the fact that a women's body only recognizes that it's pregnant by the hormone levels in the woman's body. When a women conceives, these levels known as hcG increase dramatically in order to do what nature intended, causing morning sickness, no periods, and breast tenderness, along with increased urination and the other bodily functions that plague a woman with child.
The body itself doesn't exactly recognize the difference between a tumor or a fetus or a live fetus or a dead one to a certain extent where a mole is concerned. This is the reason it is so important that when a miscarriage occurs to monitor the levels of hcG. With a Molar Pregnancy, these levels are extremely high and even though they may fall into a some what more normal range, any increase can indicated that there was tissue left behind from when the removed the Complete or Partial Mole by way of D and C and the abnormal cells in the tumorous tissue have invaded and infected the lining of the woman's uterus, causing the cancer known as Gestational Trophoblastic Disease. This can also be known as an Invasive Mole.
In the U.S. molar pregnancies occur with every 1 in 1200-1500 pregnancies. The chance of getting cancer following a Partial Mole is only 5%. Thats odds of 80 in 1,920,000. For a Complete Mole, the chance increase to 15-20%. Something like 92-96 in 1,920,000 (I think, math's not my strongest subject). Which ever way you look at it, this would only happen if it was in God's plan. Sure it's the devils doing making such innocence into ugliness, but it's God who will give women the strength to overcome the devil and to triumph over such circumstances.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Telling the News
Through out the ride down in the elevator and the walk out to the car where my family was waiting, I thought through what I was going to say and how I was going to say it. I don't think any of it came out like I had planned. I sort of just blubbered through it, managing to catch all the high points somewhere in between reading what I had written and trying to remember all the doctor had said.
This is kind of how the conversation with Terry went, tears and all.
"I've got a chance of getting cancer from this molar pregnancy. It's a small chance, but it's there."
"What's a molar pregnancy?"
"I don't know. He said that we could get pregnant again later."
"Do you want to? I don't think I do."
"I don't think I do either. I've got to call my mom."
That conversation started out.
"Hey, are you alone?" Tears at bay
"Why?"
"Because I got some bad news." Tears flowing freely.
"What?"
"I might have cancer."
"What kind?"
"I'm not sure. It started with a G and ended with BLASTIC and its some type of disease that follows a molar pregnancy."
Not a whole lot to go on, but my Mom managing to sift through all my nonsense went straight to the web and gave us our first bit of information, courtesy of Web MD, along with phone calls to friends, we would soon have a better idea of what we were up against.
Pen and paper in hand, I was now clear headed enough to write down what she was telling me and to make some sense out of it.
I know no one is prepared to be diagnosed with cancer, but I don't quite think the doctors understand how hearing the news affects us, or at least mine didn't. Your body seems to go numb and mental thinking is reduce to just trying to make it through the conversation. Your mind instead of absording this new information, automatically seems to reject it in all it's forms, your body just going through the motions as your brain trys to catch up.
A good doctor up until now, I think things could have gone much better if mine had taken the time to do a bit more research online prior to our appointment and to print out what he had found. Some tangible information that could be held in my hands would have gone along way to better explaining the rare situation I was now facing, not only to myself, but to friends and family also. Without vital understanding of this or any disease, a mind automatically assumes the worse case scenario.
I'd always planned on having 4 kids and now I didn't think I'd be able to have anymore, whether from a possibly needed hysterectomy, or a round of chemo that would/could leave me sterile, or the chance of another molar pregnancy following this one. One miscarriage was bad enough, add to the fact that cancer is now a very real possibility and it blows the mind.
This is kind of how the conversation with Terry went, tears and all.
"I've got a chance of getting cancer from this molar pregnancy. It's a small chance, but it's there."
"What's a molar pregnancy?"
"I don't know. He said that we could get pregnant again later."
"Do you want to? I don't think I do."
"I don't think I do either. I've got to call my mom."
That conversation started out.
"Hey, are you alone?" Tears at bay
"Why?"
"Because I got some bad news." Tears flowing freely.
"What?"
"I might have cancer."
"What kind?"
"I'm not sure. It started with a G and ended with BLASTIC and its some type of disease that follows a molar pregnancy."
Not a whole lot to go on, but my Mom managing to sift through all my nonsense went straight to the web and gave us our first bit of information, courtesy of Web MD, along with phone calls to friends, we would soon have a better idea of what we were up against.
Pen and paper in hand, I was now clear headed enough to write down what she was telling me and to make some sense out of it.
I know no one is prepared to be diagnosed with cancer, but I don't quite think the doctors understand how hearing the news affects us, or at least mine didn't. Your body seems to go numb and mental thinking is reduce to just trying to make it through the conversation. Your mind instead of absording this new information, automatically seems to reject it in all it's forms, your body just going through the motions as your brain trys to catch up.
A good doctor up until now, I think things could have gone much better if mine had taken the time to do a bit more research online prior to our appointment and to print out what he had found. Some tangible information that could be held in my hands would have gone along way to better explaining the rare situation I was now facing, not only to myself, but to friends and family also. Without vital understanding of this or any disease, a mind automatically assumes the worse case scenario.
I'd always planned on having 4 kids and now I didn't think I'd be able to have anymore, whether from a possibly needed hysterectomy, or a round of chemo that would/could leave me sterile, or the chance of another molar pregnancy following this one. One miscarriage was bad enough, add to the fact that cancer is now a very real possibility and it blows the mind.
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