I guess I should preface this by saying that I had a miscarriage about 3 and a half weeks ago. We found out that we were expecting on October 29th. I have never been pregnant but I knew immediately. After three tests (all with two lines but the second line was faint), my husband still wasn't as convinced so we scheduled a doctor appointment. I'm unsure why he wasn't convinced since it seemed like as soon as the we took the home tests, I started to have all-day morning sickness. The earliest appointment was for November 12th which ended up being two of the longest weeks I have ever had to wait. But I was rewarded when my doctor told me that my positive results came back the quickest she has ever seen. Based on my Beta levels, I was about 7 weeks along. I set out with all of the important plans: how to tell my side of the family and my husband's brothers (we live with my mother-in-law so she already knew when we took the tests), when to release it on social media (FaceBook and Instagram the mediums of choice), what blogs to start following in order to save the most money and know what things we needed to buy, purchasing clothes that I can wear during and after the pregnancy as I have always been against maternity-specific clothing only because I am cheap (I even considered opening a boutique for that specific purpose). You name it, I thought about it and planned it within that 30 minute doctor appointment. I was all smiles on the way home:
My husband's birthday was November 18th and that is when I posted the following picture on Instagram and FaceBook:
So the waiting game began. I think when I said that I went through every blog possible, I was not giving a true estimation. I went completely manic. I was convinced that by the time my little love bug came into the world, all of the diapers and wipes he or she would need for the first year and a half of his life (as I planned on having him or her potty trained by that time) would be purchased. I would only register for things that I would need as they grew such as baby-making food machines and devices, clothes for toddlers, and shoes. I know, pretty weird but I really wanted our first year together to be something that I planned to the best of my ability and to prove to myself that I could do it without the assistance of others (other than my husband). I wanted to be able to provide for this baby. I have been apprehensive about being a parent anyway so it was weird goal of mine. But leave it to amazing friends and family to throw those plans off. I was already receiving gifts for me and baby by the time I met with my OB/GYN on November 26th. My husband and I were so excited to have the ultrasound done and to see out little growing love. We saw two developing egg sacs. My husband immediately started to think of another name to go along with ones we were considering while I wondered how two babies were going to fit in my 4'7" body. There was a concern: they were measuring small. The doctor said that this happens with twins and sometimes the second sac can still be "absorbed" back into the mother's body as most pregnancies begin as two. Not off-putting at all. So he told us to come back next week to have another ultrasound to see if the sacs continue to grow as two or if there is just one. He ordered some lab work and then we were off to try to hold on to the secret of the possibility of twins until we were sure. But when we are excited, we are like sieves so the secret got out to our family pretty quickly. Ou next appointment on December 5th and we were so excited at the possibility of twins as it seemed more real each day. I mean, how could you not think there were twins when you belly looks like this at just 10 weeks:
And the it all shattered. During the ultrasound, there was no longer any fetal pull and there was no heartbeat. Come again?! My belly has grow tremendously in just a week, I have been eating everything under the moon that is within the healthy limits, I am able to drink a camel under the table compared to how much water I consume, I took my multivitamin daily (although it made me sick almost every time), I have sworn off heels, and I elevated my legs at every chance; what did I do wrong? All this was going through my mind while my doctor assured me that it did not appear to be an issue with me or my husband but just something that 3 out of 10 women go through. I don't think it really hit me until he said "miscarriage." And then I cried. I tried to hold it in as best as possible but tremors shook through me and they escaped. He asked us to come back again next week as it is possible that, since they are measuring smaller (around 6 weeks), it could be that their heart just hasn't fully formed just yet as it develops in the 5th week. So the week passed slowly which I was both grateful for as I dreaded hearing any negative news but was anxious to know something. I contacted my Inner Loves, my group of closest friends who I knew would be on their knees in prayer for us. We told our immediate family and the young adults group that we are a part of at church. I also told my boss at work. When I first became pregnant, she shared with me her personal struggles with miscarriages (2 total in between the birth of her now young adult children) so I knew I was not only telling her to explain the amount of sick leave that I kept using but to also have her as a prayer warrior.
On December 10th, it was confirmed. My doctor wanted to ensure that it was not something else (such as a molar pregnancy) so he suggested a D & C so that he could take the "tissue," as they were no longer referred to as my babies, to pathology. It was scheduled for Tuesday, December 17th. On December 13th, I had a 30-minute pre-screening with the nurse at the hospital, December 16th was the pre-op going to the hospital for lab work and instructions on what not to do (which included not eating anything from Midnight until after my surgery the next day at 3pm). I decided to go to work the morning of December 17th as I needed something to keep my mind occupied. I also did not know when I would be back to work and wanted to get things in order. We went to the hospital and everything happened fairly quickly. I did not register what was happening until the nurse asked, while putting in my IV, to state why I was there (a standard question ensuring I am the right person and of sound mind). I explained that it was for a D & C for my miscarriage and I apologized to her for crying. Again time seemed to speed by and my concept of everything only caught hold when the anesthesiologist came in to administer the anesthesia. The next thing I remember is waking up to the most handsome face I have ever seen. He helped me get dressed, put me in the wheelchair, and helped me into the car. He then helped me into our home and into our bed where I stayed until Thursday.
Once we told all of our close friends, I went to social media to let people know that their well-wishes posted on my wall and news feed were not being ignored:
The last few weeks have been filled with more doctor appointments than I care for as the healing process has been horrible and the pain management has been ineffective despite being on Percocet, Oxycodone, and Motrin. I have been to the emergency room once, spoken with the physician on call over the weekend twice, and seen my doctor three times since the procedure. The last appointment on December 30th found that my Beta levels are still very high meaning that the HGC, or pregnancy hormone, was still prevalent in my blood and registering me as technically still pregnant. Unfortunately, this meant that there is also a possibility that there was residual placenta left behind and they may need to do a repeat D & C. Awesome.
So that is unfortunately where it stands. The second D & C still has to be scheduled. I have been high as a kite on prescription medication that doesn't completely stop the physical pain. The emotional pain is so deep (one of the things that no amount of planning could have prepared me for). There are times when I can talk about it and I am fine and then there are times, like this evening, when an episode of The Simpsons had a pregnant woman going into labor and I was completely uninterested. My soul has mourned this loss. I am constantly putting up a front because I do not want anyone to take pity on me or seem that I am seeking sympathy. Plus, others have their own issues and pain to deal with. Even when it comes to my husband, I know that he mourns in his own way and that this has affected him greatly as well and I don't want my pain to be projected onto him. So I take a lot of showers because it masks the sound of my sobs and I don't have to answer questions about what's wrong (primarily, is it an emotional or physical pain, as both have been in abundance). And I can cry out to Jesus about my saddness over the fact that the 10 weeks I had with my babies was not the reality I was hoping for, my concern that this may happen again, and my frustration over not knowing how to completely overcome the first two.
It is not all bad as it has been bearable thanks to our friends and family who have had our little family constantly in God's ear in prayer and who have been so supportive through verbal and nonverbal actions. When I tell you that I have never felt so comforted to work in an agency where they are about 150 women and 10 men. I have had so many come up to hug me, ask how I was dealing, and share their own stories of miscarriage and what helped them. When my doctor said 3 out of 10 women, he had no idea that this exclusive club was growing. I can honestly say that the only women who approached me who had not had a miscarriage were those women who had not even tried to become pregnant before (i.e., single ladies, newlyweds that weren't ready for that milestone, etc.). And that was only a handful of women. "I've had 3,"..... 4,""....7!" "After 21 weeks,""..... after 34 weeks,"".....a stillborn!" These women are phenomenal and I know that Jesus put each of them in my life for different reasons but this seems to be the biggest and I am so grateful.
So even though my heart is heavy, my woman parts are in such pain, and my stomach is now flat, I am content in knowing that I have a group of friends and family that are outstanding, a Father in Heaven who is looking out for me, and that one day, my husband and I will be parents, wether it is biologically, surrogacy, fostering, or adoption.
