This week I went to see my OB. My results from the testing on the baby and my blood tests were all in and it was time to sit down and go over them. Every time I go to my OB's office, I feel like crying now. Walking in there always produces waves of emotion as I remember the good and bad visits there during my pregnancies. It's tough.
The testing on the baby revealed two things.
1) It was a boy. I actually knew going in that we would probably find out the sex from this testing. I've been checking out multiple miscarriage forums for weeks doing research on what might be wrong with me and had seen that others had found out the sex from their testing, even when the fetus was only 6-7 weeks old. I don't know that finding out really changes the tragedy of the situation, but I do know that I've found myself thinking more about the baby as a boy more since hearing this.
2) The cause of death was Trisomy 22. Basically, the baby is supposed to have two of the 22nd chromosome and it had an extra one from one of us. If you clicked on the link, you can see that there are a few versions of this that are not fatal, but ours had the complete trisomy 22, in which every cell in the body had it, which means it was fatal. If I had somehow managed to carry to term (unlikely), the baby would have died shortly after birth. Knowing this makes me glad it happened early instead of later in pregnancy or after birth. I still have a lot of questions about how likely it is that this will occur if I get pregnant again though.
My blood tests were basically all normal except that I tested positive for some kind of autoimmune issue. Apparently the panel is general, so it didn't say what autoimmune issue I have. My doctor recommends further testing with a Rheumatologist to see what it is, but said it most likely didn't contribute to this miscarriage, the trisomy is still the cause of death. I stillneed to get this addressed though so that it doesn't cause problems in the future.
My doc also recommends that both of us get genetic karyotyping done to see which one of us is the carrier of the extra chromosome that caused the trisomy.
After sitting on this information and trying to process it for a couple hours, I decided to make a call to a Reproductive Endocrinologist and make an appointment. I've been debating doing this for a while. On one hand, my OB is pretty awesome. I've read stories about OBs that won't perform tests or give certain treatments, and are generally hard to work with when it comes to fertility issues. Mine is proactive and has been brainstorming ideas, running tests, and coming up with game plans for me. Still, I just feel like at this point, I need to talk to an expert on this. The information I have now is kind of confusing. I'm a unclear at how likely it is that we will have this trisomy issue again if we try natuarally. I'm also worried about when/if I do get pregnant again, because I don't feel like my OB's office in general is very proactive about monitoring and testing at the beginning of pregnancy, and I want that next time to make sure people are checking my levels and giving me treatment if I need it instead of doing the standard check ups. I'm facing the fact that I'm a special case at this point, and I'm probably going to need closer treatment to keep a pregnancy. I just think an RE can better handle this.
So that's where I'm at. I have some more test being run and a pending appointment with an RE to see if they can help me. I still think conceiving again is a ways off though, because I have to wait a couple cycles and we have a lot to figure out.
Showing posts with label miscarriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miscarriage. Show all posts
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Saturday, March 31, 2012
I Think About 17
I mentioned in my last post that I love the new Eric Church song "Springsteen". The truth is, the song makes me emotional though. I listen to the lyrics and think about when I was 17. I was so young and innocent and falling in love for the first time. I was imagining a real future, not just a "play house" kind of future, but a future where I was married, working, and having children. It's a simple dream really, the kind that you start having at that age when it becomes apparent that your lack of science skills means you probably won't become an astronaut like you thought dreamed you would in second grade. It seems like a real, attainable dream. Hmmm, maybe I should have tried for astronaut. Right now, that's seeming more attainable than having a baby. Anyway, at 17, my life was all ahead of me, and I had a tinge of excitement when I thought about it all. Now, I'm almost in my mid 30's and realize that was half my life ago. Whoa...
One of the things that has been the hardest for me about these miscarriages is that life isn't turning out how I thought it would when I had those visions half my life ago. I kind of thought it would go the way of my parents and that I would maybe get married, wait a year or two, then start a family, probably in my late 20's. That was sort of the timeline I had in my head that stuck with me for a long time. None of that really happened as planned though. I waited longer than I wanted to get married (we were together 4.5 years before we did), then we put off having kids because Greg got furloughed, then we spent the last year and then some TTC and miscarrying twice. In May, we'll have been married for 6 years. I thought for sure I would be DONE having kids at the age I am, or at least have one by now, when I imagined my future life 17. I'm kind of mourning the loss of what I thought my life would be like as much as anything else. Yes, I know I have many of the things I wanted in life, but this specific part of it- the children part, really isn't going how I planned at all.
I'm really having to try and let go of these expectations and dreams that I have had all my life about where I wanted to be and how I wanted things to be at this point in my life and that's hard. It bothers me every. single. day. Frankly, I'm kind of angry about it. I used to say I didn't really have regrets, but I regret that we waited, even if it was for good reason, and honestly, I sometimes resent my husband for making us wait and think we made a huge mistake. I realize I could have gotten pregnant easily and we would have had our own struggles to make that work at a time when we weren't ready financially and things weren't exactly where we wanted them to be with Greg's career. But the new reality I am facing where we might not be able to have a baby or that it could now take us years seems way scarier to me than what we might have gone through had we been able to have a baby when we didn't feel quite ready yet. Even if we'd struggled, at least we would have started the struggle when we were younger. I regret that we waited and now we're experiencing this difficulty when we are both getting older and feel "the clock" ticking.
When people ask me how I'm doing, I often say, "it is what it is" because it really is the truth. At this point, there's not Delorean I can climb into and go back to 2006 and tell my newly married self to hurry up and try to conceive a baby. We didn't do it and now we're having to make decisions based on now.
My friend Jen, who has known me since I was a year old, is visiting (from NH) right now. She's my friend I have deep conversations well into the night with, last night being no exception, since we were up til 1am talking about books, religion, family, and of course my struggles TTC. She talked about things being meant to be, and how someday, if'/when I can have a baby, it will be the child I'm supposed to have and can't imagine life without and maybe for some reason, the timing will end up being better than it would have been had we had one this year. I'm hopeful that that is the case. I just hope it's sooner than later. My heart aches, and I can't still shut the 17 year old voice inside me up that say I should have children by now.
One of the things that has been the hardest for me about these miscarriages is that life isn't turning out how I thought it would when I had those visions half my life ago. I kind of thought it would go the way of my parents and that I would maybe get married, wait a year or two, then start a family, probably in my late 20's. That was sort of the timeline I had in my head that stuck with me for a long time. None of that really happened as planned though. I waited longer than I wanted to get married (we were together 4.5 years before we did), then we put off having kids because Greg got furloughed, then we spent the last year and then some TTC and miscarrying twice. In May, we'll have been married for 6 years. I thought for sure I would be DONE having kids at the age I am, or at least have one by now, when I imagined my future life 17. I'm kind of mourning the loss of what I thought my life would be like as much as anything else. Yes, I know I have many of the things I wanted in life, but this specific part of it- the children part, really isn't going how I planned at all.
I'm really having to try and let go of these expectations and dreams that I have had all my life about where I wanted to be and how I wanted things to be at this point in my life and that's hard. It bothers me every. single. day. Frankly, I'm kind of angry about it. I used to say I didn't really have regrets, but I regret that we waited, even if it was for good reason, and honestly, I sometimes resent my husband for making us wait and think we made a huge mistake. I realize I could have gotten pregnant easily and we would have had our own struggles to make that work at a time when we weren't ready financially and things weren't exactly where we wanted them to be with Greg's career. But the new reality I am facing where we might not be able to have a baby or that it could now take us years seems way scarier to me than what we might have gone through had we been able to have a baby when we didn't feel quite ready yet. Even if we'd struggled, at least we would have started the struggle when we were younger. I regret that we waited and now we're experiencing this difficulty when we are both getting older and feel "the clock" ticking.
When people ask me how I'm doing, I often say, "it is what it is" because it really is the truth. At this point, there's not Delorean I can climb into and go back to 2006 and tell my newly married self to hurry up and try to conceive a baby. We didn't do it and now we're having to make decisions based on now.
My friend Jen, who has known me since I was a year old, is visiting (from NH) right now. She's my friend I have deep conversations well into the night with, last night being no exception, since we were up til 1am talking about books, religion, family, and of course my struggles TTC. She talked about things being meant to be, and how someday, if'/when I can have a baby, it will be the child I'm supposed to have and can't imagine life without and maybe for some reason, the timing will end up being better than it would have been had we had one this year. I'm hopeful that that is the case. I just hope it's sooner than later. My heart aches, and I can't still shut the 17 year old voice inside me up that say I should have children by now.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Starting From Zero
I just got back from a run. I think the last run I did was about a month ago, and since I wasn't doing a lot of running before that (I tried running while I was pregnant a couple times and it just didn't feel very comfortable to me), it kind of felt like starting from zero. I had low expectations and just figured I would get out there and see how I felt, since I'm still less than a week from my D&C surgery, and unfortunately, my recovery from this surgery has felt slower than last time. I've been a little more tender and crampy. Still functional, but I just don't want to do any damage by over doing it, you know?
As for how I'm doing with the aftermath of miscarriage #2... Well, it changes all the time. Sometimes I can sort of feel "normal" or just kind of imagine it all never happened. Daily life continues and for all intensive purposes, I'm just living my life like I usually do- working, hanging out with friends, cooking, playing with Clyde.... But inside there's that sadness, that frustration, and that scar that I'm carrying with me. I'll be sitting watching TV and see something that sparks tears. Today, while I was on that run, I saw a family I sort of know on the otherside of my neighborhood. They have two kids, and I noticed the wife is pregnant with #3. It's just hard... Also, I'm in this weird place where I can relate to both pregnant, non-pregnant, and TTC people. Like a pregnant friend will mention cravings, and I basically nod and understand what that feels like, but it's weird, because I say it in past tense, "Yeah, when I was pregnant, I craved carbs too." It reminds me that I'm not anymore and they will likely go on to have a healthy baby and I won't (now anyway)... Again, hard.
I don't think before the second miscarriage I let myself really entertain the thought that this might not happen for me. I still believed that it would, and we just had been really unlucky that first time. This time, I'm legitimately scared at what my future holds. Not only are we starting over TTC this time, but who knows what other things we might be up against now that we're opening the can of worms that is testing for problems. I just really don't know what our timeline or future even looks like anymore, and that's hard. I'm not giving up by any means, and I still am hopeful, but I am scared and facing the possibility that this might not go how I've always imagined and this might take a lot longer than we ever thought it would. It already has been that way.
I guess right now I'm feeling my way around figuring out a new "normal". I used to kind of set deadlines in my head when I was TTC. By my next birthday I'll be pregnant. By the end of 2012 I'll be holding a baby. By the time Greg turns 40 (next week), we'll be 10+ weeks pregnant. I have to learn to let all that go. We just have no clue right now how long this is going to take, and those milestones I want to reach are just...not happening.
I feel beat down by this. I'm going to keep fighting for what I want, but it's just tough. I guess it's good that I have a little break from it right now while I recouperate and we try to get answers on what's going on. But at the same time, I'm always aware of time moving forward and not moving forward with something I want so badly. I guess we're starting from zero with this too.
My hope was to run at least a mile- I have to start somewhere. Luckily I got in 1.53 miles. It was slow and I felt like I slug, but I did it. I just wanted to get started on training for the 10K I have my sights set on next month.
My plan for the Racefest 10K is that I don't really have a plan. Well, I did plug in a Runner's World Smart Coach outline, but I will probably follow it pretty loosely, mainly just worrying about the weekend "long" runs. I figure during the week I'll do two more runs like the plan calls for, and I can do more than two mid week runs if I feel like it. I can also do more than two miles if I feel like it, I will just see how I feel and go with it. I'm also not going to worry too much about pace, since I'm so far out from where I once was. I will just run at whatever pace is comfortable. At this point, I know I've been running long enough that I'm pretty confident if I loosely follow this plan, I'll be fine on race day to get in 6.2 miles.
As for how I'm doing with the aftermath of miscarriage #2... Well, it changes all the time. Sometimes I can sort of feel "normal" or just kind of imagine it all never happened. Daily life continues and for all intensive purposes, I'm just living my life like I usually do- working, hanging out with friends, cooking, playing with Clyde.... But inside there's that sadness, that frustration, and that scar that I'm carrying with me. I'll be sitting watching TV and see something that sparks tears. Today, while I was on that run, I saw a family I sort of know on the otherside of my neighborhood. They have two kids, and I noticed the wife is pregnant with #3. It's just hard... Also, I'm in this weird place where I can relate to both pregnant, non-pregnant, and TTC people. Like a pregnant friend will mention cravings, and I basically nod and understand what that feels like, but it's weird, because I say it in past tense, "Yeah, when I was pregnant, I craved carbs too." It reminds me that I'm not anymore and they will likely go on to have a healthy baby and I won't (now anyway)... Again, hard.
I don't think before the second miscarriage I let myself really entertain the thought that this might not happen for me. I still believed that it would, and we just had been really unlucky that first time. This time, I'm legitimately scared at what my future holds. Not only are we starting over TTC this time, but who knows what other things we might be up against now that we're opening the can of worms that is testing for problems. I just really don't know what our timeline or future even looks like anymore, and that's hard. I'm not giving up by any means, and I still am hopeful, but I am scared and facing the possibility that this might not go how I've always imagined and this might take a lot longer than we ever thought it would. It already has been that way.
I guess right now I'm feeling my way around figuring out a new "normal". I used to kind of set deadlines in my head when I was TTC. By my next birthday I'll be pregnant. By the end of 2012 I'll be holding a baby. By the time Greg turns 40 (next week), we'll be 10+ weeks pregnant. I have to learn to let all that go. We just have no clue right now how long this is going to take, and those milestones I want to reach are just...not happening.
I feel beat down by this. I'm going to keep fighting for what I want, but it's just tough. I guess it's good that I have a little break from it right now while I recouperate and we try to get answers on what's going on. But at the same time, I'm always aware of time moving forward and not moving forward with something I want so badly. I guess we're starting from zero with this too.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Looking Forward
I'm no expert on grief and dealing with it, but I suppose at this point I've had my fair share. Yes, two miscarriages and a year of trying for a baby has caused me a lot of pain. It's just not how I wanted all of this to go at all. There have been a lot of tears and a lot of asking the universe "why?". All I know is there is really nothing I can do to change what has happened. All I can do is look to the future. I am really hoping we get some answers and can move forward with our plans to have a family. Til then, there are some things on the horizon to hopefully keep me sane and looking forward.
1. Spring. Spring is my favorite season. I know we had a mild winter here in Charlotte, but today it just really felt like spring: flowers blooming, birds chirping, warmer air... It actually made me happy, despite all the pain. Spring just seems to hold a lot of hope for me. And it's sunroof weather, so that's always good.
2. St. Paddy's Day. It's coming up, and I suppose one thing good about not being pregnant, is that I can drink beer with my friends on one of my favorite holidays.
3. A 10K. I haven't done a 10K in since my Turkey Trot in 2010, so I thought this would be a good distance for me to shoot for in about a month. I look forward to actually training for something again and a bunch of my friends are running the 10K or the half so I'll have some company.
4. A family trip to Charleston in April. My brother, sister-in-law, niece, my parents, Greg, Clyde, and I are renting a house near the beach. I'm looking forward to spending time with them, especially my adorable niece.
5. Coldplay concert this summer. I have tickets to see them when they come to Charlotte! Can't wait to see them again, they put on an awesome show!
1. Spring. Spring is my favorite season. I know we had a mild winter here in Charlotte, but today it just really felt like spring: flowers blooming, birds chirping, warmer air... It actually made me happy, despite all the pain. Spring just seems to hold a lot of hope for me. And it's sunroof weather, so that's always good.
2. St. Paddy's Day. It's coming up, and I suppose one thing good about not being pregnant, is that I can drink beer with my friends on one of my favorite holidays.
3. A 10K. I haven't done a 10K in since my Turkey Trot in 2010, so I thought this would be a good distance for me to shoot for in about a month. I look forward to actually training for something again and a bunch of my friends are running the 10K or the half so I'll have some company.
4. A family trip to Charleston in April. My brother, sister-in-law, niece, my parents, Greg, Clyde, and I are renting a house near the beach. I'm looking forward to spending time with them, especially my adorable niece.
5. Coldplay concert this summer. I have tickets to see them when they come to Charlotte! Can't wait to see them again, they put on an awesome show!
6. My friend Sarah's wedding in September. She asked me to be a bridesmaid right before I found out I was pregnant and my due date was basically on top of the wedding, so attending, let alone being in the wedding was definitely up in the air. Now I can commit to being in the wedding.
None of these things replace being pregnant with a baby, but right now, I just need things to look forward to, to keep me trucking along, and I think these things will all help with that.
My support network is great. As I mentioned in my last post, my friends have really stepped up- checking on me, calling, sending texts, emails, edible treats, etc... And you guys- my readers- give me hope every time one of you comments or tweets and tells me you are thinking of me. Thank you guys so much for your kind words, thoughts, and prayers. It really does mean a lot to me and help to know that I have all of you pulling for me.
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Again
On January 18th, I found out I was pregnant, again. I got up, took a home pregnancy test, and saw a faint line. Greg was home, still in bed, so I excitedly ran into the bedroom and said, "I think I'm pregnant again!" and showed him the test. I really just felt happy and like a weight had been lifted off of me. After a year of trying and one miscarriage, this was finally some good news and a ray of hope.
The next day we headed to the Dominican Republic. Greg and I decided early on that we were not going to tell many people this time around, until at least the first ultrasound confirmed everything looked healthy, normal, and we saw a baby with a beating heart on an ultrasound screen. The trip to DR actually made keeping this a secret a lot easier for me since I couldn't easily communicate with people for the first 5 days I knew I was pregnant. I even posted pictures of drinks (non-alcoholic) so that I could throw people off. The trip was also great because it enabled me to get away and relax instead of being home where I surely would have gotten really worried right away.
When we got back from DR, I had my first doctor appointment on January 24th. For the first appointment, my practice does a standard pelvic exam, urine pregnancy test, and takes 6 vials of blood to test for various things. They send you on your way with a detailed packet about how the rest of the pregnancy and doctor's visits will go and then you wait til your first ultrasound. It's not very much to go by. My midwife and I also decided to go ahead and have them do a blood HCG test on me because she was aware of my previous miscarriage. I had mixed feelings about this, since we did it in my last pregnancy and it led to "gray" results. If you're not familiar with this test, they draw blood, get a number, and then 48 hours they draw more blood and get a second number and you want to see the number double if the pregnancy is normal. Last time mine increased but didn't double. I was hesitant to do this test again and get more "gray" results, but since I knew my ultrasound was going to be a couple weeks away and this was all I had to go by, I agreed to do it. That Friday I got a call from the midwife and my results were great- the numbers had more than doubled. Phew, everything looked good.
I had actually had my annual "female" exam two weeks before this, in which I was already "barely" pregnant, but my doctor and I didn't know then. I had talked to him a lot about our options since it had been a year of trying and a while since the miscarriage and I still wasn't pregnant (or so I thought). We'd discussed the possibility of doing insemination because of our issues TTC with Greg's schedule and he'd offered to refer me. We'd also run blood tests on my progesterone and thyroid levels, which ended up coming back normal and was a relief to me when I knew I was already pregnant, since I knew low progesterone can be associated with miscarriage and that was one of my concerns of something I might have that could cause me to miscarry. I didn't have a progesterone issue, so it wasn't a concern.
Greg and I looked at the calendar for February before I went to my first appointment. There was no way I was going to my first ultrasound without him. The second factor that was important to both of us was that I be far enough along that we went in when there was no question we should be able to see a heartbeat and baby. With my first pregnancy, our first ultrasound was around 6 weeks, which was borderline for being able to see anything. This caused a lot of confusion when they didn't see a baby with a heartbeat, and we were told to come back in 2-3 weeks to confirm the pregnancy. I spent 2-3 agonizing weeks a nervous wreck over what was going on in my uterus. This time we wanted no confusion. We scheduled my first ultrasound for February 21st, which was probably later than most, since I would be over 8 weeks pregnant then, but I just didn't want there to be confusion this time, and this was a date that worked with Greg's schedule, or so we thought.
In the month leading up to my ultrasound appointment, I felt completely different this time than the last pregnancy. I wasn't really excited. I describe it as being kind of "flat-line" about it. The first time I was crazy excited, pouring through nursery pictures, smiling like crazy, and just psyched. After the miscarriage, until I got pregnant again, I kind of went through sort of a depression. I had a blanket of sadness over me and a feeling of helpless/hopelessness. When I got pregnant again, it basically helped to erase the low of sadness, but I didn't go immediately through the roof with happiness this time. I really just felt relieved to be pregnant again but still scared about how things might go. I didn't want to go nuts celebrating til we knew for sure if everything looked ok though. I just had to remain guarded and cautious.
I bought a new pregnancy journal, but never didn't want to write in it til the ultrasound, or take any week-by-week pictures, buy baby things, or get too excited.
As for telling people, I still tried not to, but over the course of the month, the news did leak out to some people. Some close friends noticed I wasn't drinking, and a few other people that knew to ask how things were going were able to get it out of me. I am not a great a secret keeper with news like this, so I knew I would cave and tell some people. It was actually nice to have a few people to talk to about it though, or I probably would have gone nuts.
My symptoms were pretty light. This time I didn't have the huge bloat feeling quite as much in the beginning like last time. I've had a handful of evenings where I was falling asleep at 8pm, but not many. Starting in week 6, I guess I got some morning sickness, feeling queasy a bunch during the day (usually mid morning or in the afternoon). I also had days where not much sounded good to me except specific things like baked potatoes, meatball subs, and peanut butter cups (healthy, I know). I didn't have a ton of food aversions though and for the most part my eating remained normal. The lack of symptoms has definitely concerned me. Last time I didn't have many symptoms and that pregnancy didn't end well, so would have almost welcomed some puking or heavy fatigue to indicate that things inside were going well.
Right before my ultrasound, we got some bad news. Greg's schedule was changed by the airline and he would not be making it home for the appointment. I basically threw a fit and was really angry and upset, since I'd already waited A MONTH to find out if everything was ok, but gegrouped and rescheduled it for February 27th. Since we couldn't go to the doctor on the 21st, I took another pregnancy test, my third since finding out, and it immediately showed a dark line of confirmation. It helped ease my mind that things were still on track.
The weekend before the ultrasound, I had just the teeniest bit of brownish discharge. I'd had that last time before my miscarriage, but way more, so I tried not to be too concerned, but definitely took it easy, cancelling dinner plans and staying parked on the couch most of the weekend.
Lighting Never Strikes Twice...
Monday the 27th finally came and I was totally freaked out with anxiety. I did not know what to expect and definitely thought it could go either way. It took a while for them to call me in for the ultrasound, but finally we went in to the same room where I'd had my other ones. I knew the drill. As soon as I saw my uterus come up on the screen, I knew. It was bigger than last summer, but it looked empty. The tech clicked around, and mentioned checking my ovaries. She finally said that she didn't detect any heartbeat or blood flow to the area. Ughhhhhh....
I felt kind of numb. Tears spilled over as I got to the exam room to wait for the doctor. Soon my doctor came in to meet with us and go over everything. We talked about conception dates, looked at the ultrasound pictures, and tried to make sure everything was as it seemed. I was measuring around 7+ weeks. The plan became to wait a week, do one more ultrasound to confirm no growth or change, and then have another D&C surgery to remove the miscarriage.
The day of the news, I was really sad. I couldn't believe this had happened again. The first time I was willing to chalk it up to a fluke, an unlucky occurance. My body had been through a "test run" before, and this was supposed to be the real event. I was now scared for the future. Something is wrong with me that is causing this to happen again and again. Is it something we can overcome? I don't know. I went through (am still going through) a range of emotions. I definitely cried a lot for the first couple days. Then I went to anger and motivation to figure out what was wrong. I poured over the internet, looking through forums, and gathering information about repeat miscarriage, taking notes on clotting disorders, chromosomal abnormalities, killer cells, and other issues to talk to my doctor about. By later in the week I kind of felt kind of like my normal self again I resumed my normal life, working, walking Clyde, cooking meals, etc... That only lasted for a few days though, before I became sad, withdrawn, anti social, and crying and feeling generally mopey again.
Yesterday we went for that final ultrasound, and was surprised, for the first time, to see something tiny and resembling a baby on the screen. The tech said she thought it looked to be around 6 weeks, but definitely had no fetal heart activity. We hadn't seen this at the previous ultrasound, it had looked empty when the tech had clicked around. Dare I say it actually gave me hope to see something resembling a baby. I had thought that our cells weren't really forming anything normal On the other hand, it felt like a more real loss to see that this was something pretty real.
I had my surgery yesterday and it went fine. Greg and I debated a lot about whether to get the baby tested for issues, since we are planning to have a blood panel testing me for various things in a couple weeks. After much discussion, we're having it done. It's not covered by insurance and it's expensive, but I want to know if they find something. I knew I'd regret not doing it if I end up back in a hospital bed, waiting for yet another D&C, in 6 months and something they find in this pregnancy could have prevented issues with the next one. I don't yet know what the tests on me or the baby will tell me, but I think I made the right decision, just for me own peace of mind.
I know a lot of you didn't know about any of this because I opted not to blog about it til the ultrasound. I just hoped that this time I'd be sharing happy news, but obviously that was not the case. For those that know and have sent me cards, cupcakes, flowers, and called, texted, tweeted, and made me go out for happy hour, thank you all for your support. It's meant a lot to me.
I'll keep you guys posted on the next part of our journey, which is obviously trying to figure out what our issue is so that we can have a successful, healthy, pregnancy. I really hope that's in our future.
The next day we headed to the Dominican Republic. Greg and I decided early on that we were not going to tell many people this time around, until at least the first ultrasound confirmed everything looked healthy, normal, and we saw a baby with a beating heart on an ultrasound screen. The trip to DR actually made keeping this a secret a lot easier for me since I couldn't easily communicate with people for the first 5 days I knew I was pregnant. I even posted pictures of drinks (non-alcoholic) so that I could throw people off. The trip was also great because it enabled me to get away and relax instead of being home where I surely would have gotten really worried right away.
 |
| Barely pregnant |
When we got back from DR, I had my first doctor appointment on January 24th. For the first appointment, my practice does a standard pelvic exam, urine pregnancy test, and takes 6 vials of blood to test for various things. They send you on your way with a detailed packet about how the rest of the pregnancy and doctor's visits will go and then you wait til your first ultrasound. It's not very much to go by. My midwife and I also decided to go ahead and have them do a blood HCG test on me because she was aware of my previous miscarriage. I had mixed feelings about this, since we did it in my last pregnancy and it led to "gray" results. If you're not familiar with this test, they draw blood, get a number, and then 48 hours they draw more blood and get a second number and you want to see the number double if the pregnancy is normal. Last time mine increased but didn't double. I was hesitant to do this test again and get more "gray" results, but since I knew my ultrasound was going to be a couple weeks away and this was all I had to go by, I agreed to do it. That Friday I got a call from the midwife and my results were great- the numbers had more than doubled. Phew, everything looked good.
I had actually had my annual "female" exam two weeks before this, in which I was already "barely" pregnant, but my doctor and I didn't know then. I had talked to him a lot about our options since it had been a year of trying and a while since the miscarriage and I still wasn't pregnant (or so I thought). We'd discussed the possibility of doing insemination because of our issues TTC with Greg's schedule and he'd offered to refer me. We'd also run blood tests on my progesterone and thyroid levels, which ended up coming back normal and was a relief to me when I knew I was already pregnant, since I knew low progesterone can be associated with miscarriage and that was one of my concerns of something I might have that could cause me to miscarry. I didn't have a progesterone issue, so it wasn't a concern.
Greg and I looked at the calendar for February before I went to my first appointment. There was no way I was going to my first ultrasound without him. The second factor that was important to both of us was that I be far enough along that we went in when there was no question we should be able to see a heartbeat and baby. With my first pregnancy, our first ultrasound was around 6 weeks, which was borderline for being able to see anything. This caused a lot of confusion when they didn't see a baby with a heartbeat, and we were told to come back in 2-3 weeks to confirm the pregnancy. I spent 2-3 agonizing weeks a nervous wreck over what was going on in my uterus. This time we wanted no confusion. We scheduled my first ultrasound for February 21st, which was probably later than most, since I would be over 8 weeks pregnant then, but I just didn't want there to be confusion this time, and this was a date that worked with Greg's schedule, or so we thought.
In the month leading up to my ultrasound appointment, I felt completely different this time than the last pregnancy. I wasn't really excited. I describe it as being kind of "flat-line" about it. The first time I was crazy excited, pouring through nursery pictures, smiling like crazy, and just psyched. After the miscarriage, until I got pregnant again, I kind of went through sort of a depression. I had a blanket of sadness over me and a feeling of helpless/hopelessness. When I got pregnant again, it basically helped to erase the low of sadness, but I didn't go immediately through the roof with happiness this time. I really just felt relieved to be pregnant again but still scared about how things might go. I didn't want to go nuts celebrating til we knew for sure if everything looked ok though. I just had to remain guarded and cautious.
I bought a new pregnancy journal, but never didn't want to write in it til the ultrasound, or take any week-by-week pictures, buy baby things, or get too excited.
As for telling people, I still tried not to, but over the course of the month, the news did leak out to some people. Some close friends noticed I wasn't drinking, and a few other people that knew to ask how things were going were able to get it out of me. I am not a great a secret keeper with news like this, so I knew I would cave and tell some people. It was actually nice to have a few people to talk to about it though, or I probably would have gone nuts.
My symptoms were pretty light. This time I didn't have the huge bloat feeling quite as much in the beginning like last time. I've had a handful of evenings where I was falling asleep at 8pm, but not many. Starting in week 6, I guess I got some morning sickness, feeling queasy a bunch during the day (usually mid morning or in the afternoon). I also had days where not much sounded good to me except specific things like baked potatoes, meatball subs, and peanut butter cups (healthy, I know). I didn't have a ton of food aversions though and for the most part my eating remained normal. The lack of symptoms has definitely concerned me. Last time I didn't have many symptoms and that pregnancy didn't end well, so would have almost welcomed some puking or heavy fatigue to indicate that things inside were going well.
Right before my ultrasound, we got some bad news. Greg's schedule was changed by the airline and he would not be making it home for the appointment. I basically threw a fit and was really angry and upset, since I'd already waited A MONTH to find out if everything was ok, but gegrouped and rescheduled it for February 27th. Since we couldn't go to the doctor on the 21st, I took another pregnancy test, my third since finding out, and it immediately showed a dark line of confirmation. It helped ease my mind that things were still on track.
 |
| I couldn't get this picture to flip, sorry! |
The weekend before the ultrasound, I had just the teeniest bit of brownish discharge. I'd had that last time before my miscarriage, but way more, so I tried not to be too concerned, but definitely took it easy, cancelling dinner plans and staying parked on the couch most of the weekend.
Lighting Never Strikes Twice...
Monday the 27th finally came and I was totally freaked out with anxiety. I did not know what to expect and definitely thought it could go either way. It took a while for them to call me in for the ultrasound, but finally we went in to the same room where I'd had my other ones. I knew the drill. As soon as I saw my uterus come up on the screen, I knew. It was bigger than last summer, but it looked empty. The tech clicked around, and mentioned checking my ovaries. She finally said that she didn't detect any heartbeat or blood flow to the area. Ughhhhhh....
I felt kind of numb. Tears spilled over as I got to the exam room to wait for the doctor. Soon my doctor came in to meet with us and go over everything. We talked about conception dates, looked at the ultrasound pictures, and tried to make sure everything was as it seemed. I was measuring around 7+ weeks. The plan became to wait a week, do one more ultrasound to confirm no growth or change, and then have another D&C surgery to remove the miscarriage.
The day of the news, I was really sad. I couldn't believe this had happened again. The first time I was willing to chalk it up to a fluke, an unlucky occurance. My body had been through a "test run" before, and this was supposed to be the real event. I was now scared for the future. Something is wrong with me that is causing this to happen again and again. Is it something we can overcome? I don't know. I went through (am still going through) a range of emotions. I definitely cried a lot for the first couple days. Then I went to anger and motivation to figure out what was wrong. I poured over the internet, looking through forums, and gathering information about repeat miscarriage, taking notes on clotting disorders, chromosomal abnormalities, killer cells, and other issues to talk to my doctor about. By later in the week I kind of felt kind of like my normal self again I resumed my normal life, working, walking Clyde, cooking meals, etc... That only lasted for a few days though, before I became sad, withdrawn, anti social, and crying and feeling generally mopey again.
Yesterday we went for that final ultrasound, and was surprised, for the first time, to see something tiny and resembling a baby on the screen. The tech said she thought it looked to be around 6 weeks, but definitely had no fetal heart activity. We hadn't seen this at the previous ultrasound, it had looked empty when the tech had clicked around. Dare I say it actually gave me hope to see something resembling a baby. I had thought that our cells weren't really forming anything normal On the other hand, it felt like a more real loss to see that this was something pretty real.
I had my surgery yesterday and it went fine. Greg and I debated a lot about whether to get the baby tested for issues, since we are planning to have a blood panel testing me for various things in a couple weeks. After much discussion, we're having it done. It's not covered by insurance and it's expensive, but I want to know if they find something. I knew I'd regret not doing it if I end up back in a hospital bed, waiting for yet another D&C, in 6 months and something they find in this pregnancy could have prevented issues with the next one. I don't yet know what the tests on me or the baby will tell me, but I think I made the right decision, just for me own peace of mind.
I know a lot of you didn't know about any of this because I opted not to blog about it til the ultrasound. I just hoped that this time I'd be sharing happy news, but obviously that was not the case. For those that know and have sent me cards, cupcakes, flowers, and called, texted, tweeted, and made me go out for happy hour, thank you all for your support. It's meant a lot to me.
I'll keep you guys posted on the next part of our journey, which is obviously trying to figure out what our issue is so that we can have a successful, healthy, pregnancy. I really hope that's in our future.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
My Confession
Confession? I'm enjoying having a break from TTC and everything that goes with it. You probably know from reading my blog (or knowing me in real life), that I let that process take me over in the last eight months. I didn't want to do anything to jeapordize conceiving or carrying a baby. That meant I basically stopped running, stopped doing yoga (I heard that certain twists and inversions can be bad), refrained from eating or drinking anything questionable, etc... A lot of good my paranoia did me, right?
Actually, I don't regret that I handled everything the way I did for the most part. I always said that I didn't want to have to blame myself for miscarrying if it happened. I knew if I had been running a lot, I might wonder if that caused it, and I'm glad I don't have to wonder and that I don't blame myself because I KNOW I was so careful. In that respect, I am glad I handled it the way I did. On the other hand, letting go of running and yoga caused me to lose a big part of who I am for a while, and I missed those outlets and the activities that I enjoy so much.
Once I'd had my first post-op doctor's appointment and was cleared, one of the first things that popped into my head was that I wanted to run. I probably hadn't run in at least four months, but oh well, I felt like getting out there.
Actually, I don't regret that I handled everything the way I did for the most part. I always said that I didn't want to have to blame myself for miscarrying if it happened. I knew if I had been running a lot, I might wonder if that caused it, and I'm glad I don't have to wonder and that I don't blame myself because I KNOW I was so careful. In that respect, I am glad I handled it the way I did. On the other hand, letting go of running and yoga caused me to lose a big part of who I am for a while, and I missed those outlets and the activities that I enjoy so much.
Once I'd had my first post-op doctor's appointment and was cleared, one of the first things that popped into my head was that I wanted to run. I probably hadn't run in at least four months, but oh well, I felt like getting out there.
I did just under 2.4 miles on my first run, and have now run about 4 more times since then, all short, slow runs under 3 miles. It's tough. I definitely have lost ALL of my speed (if you could call what I had before speed), and it feels very labored and difficult. I know part of that is the insane heat we have going right now (temps usually anywhere from 85-100 degrees). I usually have to wait til later in the day to go when it cools off, and even then it's only a few degrees cooler, so it's HOT out there.
As slow and tough as it is, it's still nice to get back out there. I'm not saying I didn't stay active at all while I was pregnant or trying, but I kept my "workouts" more like long walks, and I know for me, running is a much better workout, and it feels good to really sweat again.
Speaking of sweat, I also returned to the yoga mat over the weekend. I went to Y2 for Tanner's hour and a half long hot class with Katie on Sunday, which was probably kind of ambitious of me, since I think it's one of the tougher classes in Charlotte, but I'd say it went pretty well for a 4-5 month hiatus. Let's just say I can feel my shoulder muscles again ;) Nice.
As much as I want a baby, I'm glad to just feel like my pre-TTC self again for a little while. It's just nice to not have to *think* about the baby or potential baby with decision I make for a little while. I don't know how things will go in my next round of TTC, which if you are wondering should kick off in a little over a month. I guess I'll just play it by ear and go with how I feel then. I don't want to go into it promising anything, I think TTC and pregnancy taught me to kind of go with how you feel. I think I'd like to be more active next time, but at the same time, knowing that I lost one pregnancy already may make me all the more paranoid for the next time, so I wouldn't be surprised if I kind of "bench" myself again, and I will let myself be okay with that if that's how I feel.
In the meantime, til we try again, I'll enjoy some running, some yoga, and also the recreational sport of margarita drinking of course!
Oh, and doggie cuddling! That's a sport right? I think I've got some Olympic potential there...
I'm coming to get you Clyde!! :)
Saturday, July 23, 2011
I Messed Up My Wish
I'm still dealing relatively well with my miscarriage, but sometimes thoughts swim in my head about it all. You know the statement, "Be Careful What You Wish For"? I sometimes think that about my pregnancy. I wished to get pregnant for so long. I wished to get PREGNANT. Not to get pregnant and have a healthy baby (that second part was supposed to be implied), just to get pregnant.
Did you ever see that movie Bedazzled with Brendan Fraser? Maybe not, it's kinda dumb.
Anyway, he makes a deal with the devil (Elizabeth Hurley) to sell his soul for some wishes. The problem is that he'd say, "I want to be rich", and she'd make him rich, but also a cartel drug dealer jerk with a cheating wife and a bunch of people that want to kill him. Not exactly what he had in mind. I feel like that's kind of what happened with my wish. I just wanted to be pregnant so bad that I didn't follow through with the rest of the wish. I should have said I want to get pregnant and have a healthy baby, even though like I said, I thought that part was implied.
As far as coping goes, I think I'm doing pretty good. I can talk about the miscarriage, or babies/pregnancy in general, without bursting in to tears. I kind of feel like I went back to my old, pre-pregnancy self. I think I've spent so much of my life not pregnant, that it feels more normal to me to not be pregnant than to be pregnant. I actually feel kind of guilty that I don't feel worse about it all. Is it weird that I haven't crawled into bed for a month unable to move? I feel like I should feel worse...
As far as my specific case, I think it also helped in a way that we never saw a heartbeat, and got really attached to the idea that a real live baby was growing inside me. I knew pretty early on that things were up in the air as far as whether we'd actually have a successful pregnancy or not, so I was preparing fairly early on for things to take a turn for the worse if it came to that.
Still, as well as I'm doing, I have moments when I get sad and disappointed about it. I've been gravitating towards sad-ish music on my playlists lately, and spend time in the car thinking about it when I'm alone. I went for a run today and that actually dredged up quite a bit of thought on everything, because running is so introspective when you do it alone.
I had my follow-up doctor's appointment this week and the doctor (the same one that did my surgery) was great, as usual. He gave me his "pep talk" on trying again and encouraged me to. I actually don't need a pep talk though. I definitely plan to try again. I think part of why I'm not sitting around sad all the time is that I'm more determined than sad as the underlying emotion towards trying to have a baby. I just hope our second time around goes better than this time.
The hard part about trying again is not knowing what went wrong the first time. I guess there really is no explanation. The doctor said it I had pregnancy tissue, but that he couldn't tell what went wrong. I'm just hoping my body was all confused since it was my first time and is now like, "Ohhhhhh, that's what you were trying to do! Okay, got it now. Let's do this!" After all, I waited almost 33 years to get pregnant, so it's not out of the realm of possibility that my body didn't know what to do right away. It's not like everyone can just get on a bike and ride...
I've talked to quite a few people about the miscarriage. I would say that more people have told me that they, or their wife- if it's a guy, have had a miscarriage than not, which I guess is sort of surprising to hear how common it is. Yesterday I told two guys at work that knew I was pregnant and they both immediately said they've been through it (they both went on to have 2-4 kids each). I've been finding this is the case with so many people I've talked to, and though it's a sad topic, there definitely is comfort in knowing I'm not alone, and better still, that people are still successful at conceiving again and having babies even after a miscarriage. That's really, really good news.
The sad part in talking with other people who have been through it is hearing how hard it's been for some of them.
Like I said, I feel like I've coped relatively well. I haven't lost my determination (I'm a stubborn Taurus after all) to get pregnant again, and this isn't something that's going to keep me on the sidelines. I am planning to get back out there and try when we can (in two cycles if you are wondering). For me, keeping busy, being social, and trying find myself again has helped me more than laying in bed with the covers pulled up hiding from it all. Talking about it and blogging about it has helped lots too.
I think the other thing that's been hard for me to accept was that I had this huge hunch that I would be a pregnancy rock star. I don't think I'm exceptional at a ton of things (even though I know I'm good at a lot of things), but I just thought I would ROCK at being pregnant and carrying a baby to term and would soar through it with flying colors and no issues, and letting that go has been hard for me. I just figured that I was healthy, a good weight for pregnancy, and I had great genes to be great at being pregnant from my mom. To have the whole thing crash and burn so miserably was a huge disappointment when I'd pictured it going so well for so long. It's been pretty humbling that I didn't get pregnant right away and that I couldn't carry the first pregnancy to term.
So that's where I'm at on everything. Still determined, still pretty hopeful, and just trying to keep trucking along with this journey while I'm back in my holding pattern...
Did you ever see that movie Bedazzled with Brendan Fraser? Maybe not, it's kinda dumb.
Anyway, he makes a deal with the devil (Elizabeth Hurley) to sell his soul for some wishes. The problem is that he'd say, "I want to be rich", and she'd make him rich, but also a cartel drug dealer jerk with a cheating wife and a bunch of people that want to kill him. Not exactly what he had in mind. I feel like that's kind of what happened with my wish. I just wanted to be pregnant so bad that I didn't follow through with the rest of the wish. I should have said I want to get pregnant and have a healthy baby, even though like I said, I thought that part was implied.
As far as coping goes, I think I'm doing pretty good. I can talk about the miscarriage, or babies/pregnancy in general, without bursting in to tears. I kind of feel like I went back to my old, pre-pregnancy self. I think I've spent so much of my life not pregnant, that it feels more normal to me to not be pregnant than to be pregnant. I actually feel kind of guilty that I don't feel worse about it all. Is it weird that I haven't crawled into bed for a month unable to move? I feel like I should feel worse...
As far as my specific case, I think it also helped in a way that we never saw a heartbeat, and got really attached to the idea that a real live baby was growing inside me. I knew pretty early on that things were up in the air as far as whether we'd actually have a successful pregnancy or not, so I was preparing fairly early on for things to take a turn for the worse if it came to that.
Still, as well as I'm doing, I have moments when I get sad and disappointed about it. I've been gravitating towards sad-ish music on my playlists lately, and spend time in the car thinking about it when I'm alone. I went for a run today and that actually dredged up quite a bit of thought on everything, because running is so introspective when you do it alone.
I had my follow-up doctor's appointment this week and the doctor (the same one that did my surgery) was great, as usual. He gave me his "pep talk" on trying again and encouraged me to. I actually don't need a pep talk though. I definitely plan to try again. I think part of why I'm not sitting around sad all the time is that I'm more determined than sad as the underlying emotion towards trying to have a baby. I just hope our second time around goes better than this time.
The hard part about trying again is not knowing what went wrong the first time. I guess there really is no explanation. The doctor said it I had pregnancy tissue, but that he couldn't tell what went wrong. I'm just hoping my body was all confused since it was my first time and is now like, "Ohhhhhh, that's what you were trying to do! Okay, got it now. Let's do this!" After all, I waited almost 33 years to get pregnant, so it's not out of the realm of possibility that my body didn't know what to do right away. It's not like everyone can just get on a bike and ride...
I've talked to quite a few people about the miscarriage. I would say that more people have told me that they, or their wife- if it's a guy, have had a miscarriage than not, which I guess is sort of surprising to hear how common it is. Yesterday I told two guys at work that knew I was pregnant and they both immediately said they've been through it (they both went on to have 2-4 kids each). I've been finding this is the case with so many people I've talked to, and though it's a sad topic, there definitely is comfort in knowing I'm not alone, and better still, that people are still successful at conceiving again and having babies even after a miscarriage. That's really, really good news.
The sad part in talking with other people who have been through it is hearing how hard it's been for some of them.
Like I said, I feel like I've coped relatively well. I haven't lost my determination (I'm a stubborn Taurus after all) to get pregnant again, and this isn't something that's going to keep me on the sidelines. I am planning to get back out there and try when we can (in two cycles if you are wondering). For me, keeping busy, being social, and trying find myself again has helped me more than laying in bed with the covers pulled up hiding from it all. Talking about it and blogging about it has helped lots too.
I think the other thing that's been hard for me to accept was that I had this huge hunch that I would be a pregnancy rock star. I don't think I'm exceptional at a ton of things (even though I know I'm good at a lot of things), but I just thought I would ROCK at being pregnant and carrying a baby to term and would soar through it with flying colors and no issues, and letting that go has been hard for me. I just figured that I was healthy, a good weight for pregnancy, and I had great genes to be great at being pregnant from my mom. To have the whole thing crash and burn so miserably was a huge disappointment when I'd pictured it going so well for so long. It's been pretty humbling that I didn't get pregnant right away and that I couldn't carry the first pregnancy to term.
So that's where I'm at on everything. Still determined, still pretty hopeful, and just trying to keep trucking along with this journey while I'm back in my holding pattern...
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
An Update and Salads
Hi guys. Thank you SO MUCH for your kind comments, emails, texts, cards, etc... on my last post on my miscarriage. I was seriously touched. You guys are so wonderful and I felt so loved and encouraged. The last week has been sort of surreal. A lot has happened in a short amount of time, and I guess I'm still sort of processing it all.
I'm actually doing fairly well despite the grim circumstances. For better or worse, I had a major project going on at work that I kind of HAD to be there for last week and thus, I actually worked pretty much all week, even putting in overtime two nights, so it kept me pretty occupied. I guess in a way it was good, because I was so busy I didn't really have time to break down a lot or be completely mopey at home. It was good to feel useful and needed. Obviously you might be wondering if I've had time to really grieve. I think I kind of have. I've talked with quite a few people about it, wrote the blog post, and had some meltdowns a long the way too. I've thought a lot about it. I am not in any way ignoring what happened, I am dealing with it, but I am also moving forward with a hopeful attitude.
The other major thing happening (talk about timing right??) was that my sister-in-law's baby shower was this past weekend. Initially, when my miscarriage happened, I wasn't sure if I'd want to go to a baby shower. As the week went on and the weekend got closer, I decided I wanted to go and it would also be good to get out of town for a weekend, even if it was to celebrate a baby. I feel like a baby is a great thing to celebrate, even if I haven't yet been successful in carrying one to term. I wondered if I would still want to read pregnancy blogs and think about baby stuff when the miscarriage happened. The answer is yes. I liken it to training for my marathon. At that time, I was engrossed in reading and researching marathon training. This is the same kind of thing. It's the goal I have in mind right now, and there's still so much I want to learn about pregnancy and babies until I have my own. Seeing other people successful at what I want is inspiring and makes me hopeful that I will have that too. I had a great time at the baby shower and I'm glad I went. I'll have more on that later.
Anyway, I think I'm ready to get back to more of my regularly scheduled programming ;)
Before the miscarriage, I had started the following post on salads, but hadn't hit publish. Here's the post.
I've been eating quite a lot of salads lately. I guess it's normal that in summer, you want that light refreshing bite of leafy, healthy goodness.
A couple Sundays ago, I met up with Katie for a stroll around her new neighborhood, with Clyde in tow.
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
I'm actually doing fairly well despite the grim circumstances. For better or worse, I had a major project going on at work that I kind of HAD to be there for last week and thus, I actually worked pretty much all week, even putting in overtime two nights, so it kept me pretty occupied. I guess in a way it was good, because I was so busy I didn't really have time to break down a lot or be completely mopey at home. It was good to feel useful and needed. Obviously you might be wondering if I've had time to really grieve. I think I kind of have. I've talked with quite a few people about it, wrote the blog post, and had some meltdowns a long the way too. I've thought a lot about it. I am not in any way ignoring what happened, I am dealing with it, but I am also moving forward with a hopeful attitude.
The other major thing happening (talk about timing right??) was that my sister-in-law's baby shower was this past weekend. Initially, when my miscarriage happened, I wasn't sure if I'd want to go to a baby shower. As the week went on and the weekend got closer, I decided I wanted to go and it would also be good to get out of town for a weekend, even if it was to celebrate a baby. I feel like a baby is a great thing to celebrate, even if I haven't yet been successful in carrying one to term. I wondered if I would still want to read pregnancy blogs and think about baby stuff when the miscarriage happened. The answer is yes. I liken it to training for my marathon. At that time, I was engrossed in reading and researching marathon training. This is the same kind of thing. It's the goal I have in mind right now, and there's still so much I want to learn about pregnancy and babies until I have my own. Seeing other people successful at what I want is inspiring and makes me hopeful that I will have that too. I had a great time at the baby shower and I'm glad I went. I'll have more on that later.
Anyway, I think I'm ready to get back to more of my regularly scheduled programming ;)
Before the miscarriage, I had started the following post on salads, but hadn't hit publish. Here's the post.
I've been eating quite a lot of salads lately. I guess it's normal that in summer, you want that light refreshing bite of leafy, healthy goodness.
A couple Sundays ago, I met up with Katie for a stroll around her new neighborhood, with Clyde in tow.
Clyde didn't last long walking in the heat, so we decided lunch was a better idea, and Katie introduced me to Crisp, a salad place I've been wanting to try!
They have a good amount of outdoor seating, and it's dog friendly too!
I ordered a build your own salad with four different kinds of greens, tomato, carrot, cucumber, chick peas, and artichoke hearts, with chicken and balsamic dressing. It also came with a little crostini bread.
Hit the spot!
Katie in food blogging action with her new camera.
It was a great salad and meet-up with Katie.
A few different times I've made this next salad. I think it's pretty much the perfect summer salad, and I will probably eat it a bunch more times this summer if I can still find beets, as I hear they are really a spring root vegetable.
Orange slices, roasted beets, goat cheese, and toasted walnuts over arugala and spinach.
My mom and brother turned me on to this Trader Joe's Orange Muscat Champagne Vinegar and it goes perfectly with this salad as a dressing.
I used the roasted beet technique I learned at The Liberty, washing and drying the beet (skin on), then cutting off the top and bottom off, drizzling with olive oil and salt and pepper, then folding in a foil packet and roasting at 375 for about 45 minutes.
Delicious....
Make it! You will love it.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Nine Weeks
You may have wondered where I've been lately. I haven't fallen off the planet, but there's been a lot going on in my life that I hestitated to share on the blog until I knew for sure what was going on. I'm finally ready to share it with you, but I warn you, it might be kind of tough to read. This is probably going to be the hardest thing I'll ever post on the blog. I'm not quite sure how to even write this since I'm still processing it myself, but I'm really going to try and tell you everything with all the ups and downs. This is going to be a long, somewhat sad post, so if this isn't your thing, feel free to skip this one. It's a part of who I am now though, and I can't see moving forward without putting it out there.
On June 2nd, 2011, I found out I was pregnant.
I had just been to dinner with my husband and Book Club. I got home and was feeling really bloated. I really had no reason to think I might be pregnant that cycle, because I had realized early in the cycle that we were probably missing our "window" of when it could happen, since I had ovulated earlier than expected.
Anyway, I'm not sure what made me want to take a test that night, but through out the process of TTC I pretty much took tests at random and this night was no exception. I first took an "internet cheapie" as we like to call them. A while back I had ordered a bunch of these cheap HCG strip, no frills tests, for about $5 for 10 test or something, for moments like these when I wanted to take a test, but not blow $7 on ONE test. I took one while getting ready for bed and set it on the sink while brushing my teeth, washing my face, etc...
A few minutes went by, and I took a look. OMG... is that a faint line I see??
![]()
It's really hard to see, but I'm holding it upside down, and the faint line is over to the right of the control line.
So I did what any hopeful person would do and took another, better test.
![]()
![]()
![]()
They set my first ultrasound appointment for about two weeks later, which we realized was pretty early in the pregnancy, and we worried a little that it would be too early to see a heartbeat, but went with it.
In the meantime, I enjoyed mocktails when I was out...
![]()
I daydreamed about nurseries...
![]()
I ate lots of healthy stuff.
![]()
I bought and read pregnancy books and journals and diligently filled them in.
![]()
![]()
I eagerly read pregnancy blogs, taking in what I might expect to feel and look like in the coming months.
![]()
![]()
I took the obligatory belly shots. Around 6 weeks.
![]()
![]()
I fell in love with the idea that I was pregnant and going to have a baby, FINALLY.
I really didn't have a plan about whether or who I would tell I was pregnant. I know a lot of people wait til the end of the first trimester, til you're more "out of the woods", but I am not that great about keeping this kind of secret, and ended up telling some people along the way.
![]()
![]()
When I told my parents and told them when the first ultrasound was scheduled, my mom wanted to come with us and see her future grandchild on the screen. We agreed it would be cool for her to come and after a couple weeks of anticipation, our appointment on June 24th was upon us. My parents were so cute when they showed up. They brought the baby's first present.
![]()
At the doctor's office, Greg, my mom, and I went into the ultrasound room, where I changed into my sheet, got on the table, and the technician began the ultrasound. Soon my uterus popped up the screen and the tech asked how far along I was. I said I was about 6-7 weeks, and she said my yolk sac looked to be 5 weeks and 1 day, a little behind where we thought I'd be at that point. Confused, we next met with a nurse midwife, who went through the results with me.
Basically, the doctors considered me to be about 7 weeks pregnant at that point, since they go by the date of your last period. Even though I knew that my baby should only be about 5 weeks from the date we conceived, the ultrasound should still have shown me further along according to the tech and nurse. Still, I tried not to freak out, and asked about doing a Beta HCG test, to see if my hormone levels were normal or not. They agreed to do it, and I had the first test that day, with results in the 7,000's, good for 5-7 weeks pregnant. The way the test works, is that you take a second test about 48 to 72 hours later and you want your level to double if your pregnancy is normal.
Slightly uncertain, but not too worried, I went on with my weekend with my parents. We went to the mall, and Greg, knowing that I love the lamb themed nursery, bought me a lambie mobile, saying that we would need it, no matter what. I love him :)
![]()
Out of all of us, I think I remained the most optimistic and least worried all weekend. I felt like the ultrasound was explainable with the baby's size matching the date I believed we conceived. I was probably fine, it was just too early to conclusively know much. I was scheduled for a second ultrasound on July 11th, and knew that that would be the defining moment of my pregnancy, either we'd see a heartbeat or we wouldn't, and we would know if everything was okay or not. In the meantime, I would try to hang in there and stay positive.
Then Monday came, and I went in for the second Beta test on my way to work. A few hours later I received the results. My level didn't double, but it rose to 11,412. I didn't know what to think. More "gray" results. The number had climbed, but not doubled. That could mean things were okay, or it could mean bad news. I started to worry more than I had been with only the first ultrasound results. To make matters worse, I started having a little bit of bleeding later in the week, some brownish discharge.
I tried my best to remain “cautiously optimistic” as my nurse midwife had advised me too, but it was hard. Part of me still wanted to research cribs, and part of me googled miscarriage symptoms to see if I fit them.
I felt it could go either way. More than once I said that if I found out everything was normal, I would just think it was all explainable. If I found out there was something wrong with the baby, I would think these were all the signs. I had good days when I was completely optimistic and bad days when I wasn't sure it was going to be okay. It was a rough couple weeks, wondering and not knowing.
![]()
About a week out from the second ultrasound I had a meltdown. Maybe in hindsight it was intuition. Work was stressful and the lack of knowing what was going on with the baby was starting to kill me. I was scared and crying and I knew I couldn't wait til the 11th for an answer. We had originally scheduled our appointment for the 11th, partly because Greg was definitely off then and I needed him to be there with me. I realized he would be home by the morning of July 8th, and decided to call my doctor's office and see if I could move our appointment up to the afternoon of the 8th so that we could have our answer sooner. I also wanted the weekend to either celebrate or cope with whatever news we were given. At first they weren't sure if they could fit us in, but I explained everything going on to the person on the phone at my doctor's office and she agreed to somehow make it work and get us in for the afternoon of July 8th.
After changing the appointment, I left Greg a shaky message explaining that I had changed the appointment and that he would NEED to be home the morning of the 8th to come with me. He called me back and was great, sensing my anxiety and told me something wonderful. He said, “I’m one hundred percent sure we will be parents, so you don’t need to worry”. He said if it didn’t happen now, he knew it would still happen. It was comforting to hear him say those words.
Now, I have to tell you that during that week, I had to do something. I had to prepare myself for bad news. Everyone kept telling me to be optimistic, and I really did try to keep hope alive, but at the same time, I knew I had to prepare the possibility that I might get bad news. When I was cop, my training officers taught me to prepare for any situation that might occur: a person whipping out a gun on a traffic stop, guys running out of a bank after just robbing it, an accident occurring in front of me. They taught me that it was good to run through scenarios of things that might happen so that you would be prepared for how you would react. I learned to do this to prepare myself for possible outcomes. If I only prepared for good news, how I would I deal with it if I got bad news? I had to think about the receiving bad news, at least a little so I could prepare myself.
Friday finally came and Greg arrived home that morning, which was a relief, since sometimes he doesn't make it home when he think he will due to the nature of the airline industry. I left work early and we headed over to our appointment. It had been exactly two weeks since our last ultrasound, and this was the day we had waited for, we were finally going to get our answer. I was called back from the waiting room and changed into a sheet on the lower half of my body for my ultrasound. I climbed up on the table and the ultrasound tech got working to check me out. I soon saw a similar sac to the one we'd seen a few weeks ago on the ultrasound screen, but it looked bigger with a little something more inside this time. I was a little bit hopeful. But soon the ultrasound tech said she didn't detect any fetal heartbeat activity, and that I was only measuring at about 6 weeks and a few days. I knew...
Numb, I changed back into my clothes, then came out and hugged my husband, feeling the tears start to well up just as the tech opened the door and led us down the hall to an examining room. Our doctor came in, and we asked questions. She went through our ultrasound pictures with us and showed us why our pregnancy wasn't viable. Our yolk sac was too big, our baby was just unformed tissue. She wasn't sure that our baby ever had a heartbeat, since it would have been right on the cusp of being at that point when it stopped forming/growing around the 6 week mark. She was 100% sure that I had miscarried. I knew from my prior research, that I'd had a "missed miscarriage", where basically I'd had a miscarriage, but it wasn't expelling itself on its own.
Then came the hardest part for me in the process, deciding how I wanted to proceed. My options were:
1. Do nothing and let the miscarriage happen on its own if/when my body ever realized it was supposed to expel it, which obviously wasn't happening yet.
2. Take drugs to induce the miscarriage.
3. Have a D&C, to surgically remove the pregnancy.
I REALLY struggled with this decision. It was the thing that made me cry the most. I talked it over with Greg and thought about the options, and eventually decided to go the drug route (#2). It was obvious to me that my body was not in a hurry to expel the pregnancy, so the first option was kind of out, and surgery made me nervous. I didn't want to do anything that would prevent me from being able to have a baby in the future. Drugs seemed to be the logical option, since I could start the process of miscarrying non-invasively. The biggest con seemed to be that it might take a while, since the bleeding might not start right away and once it did, it could last a week or two. Also, the doctor would have to kind of monitor things closely to make sure everything was expelled as it was supposed to, because if it didn't, I could still have to have a D&C in the end to remove whatever didn‘t come out. I still thought the drugs seemed worth trying if it meant preserving my fertility, and walked out of the office with a prescription and a hollow heart.
![]()
I took my first dose of the Misoprostol around 6:30pm on Friday night, with some delicious Donato's pizza. In an hour or so I felt some cramping coming on, but nothing major. I popped a prescription strength Ibuprofen once I could feel the cramping more. Then it got worse, and I decided to take a Tylenol with Codeine, my other pain prescription. Basically, the Misoprostol induces labor. We're talking full on contractions. While I was advised of this by the doctor, I had no idea it would be so painful and severe. I started with a heating pad on my abdomen, and then things went downhill from there. After a while, I ran the bathroom and spent a bunch of time sitting on the toilet. It was getting ugly.
Then I started cramping, contracting, and shaking uncontrollably, and decided to climb into a lukewarm bathtub and run the Jacuzzi jets to see if that would ease the pain at all. It helped a little, but it was obviously I was in bad shape. I started to heave and Greg grabbed me the trash bin and I threw up. It was not pretty. I was crying, shaking, and terrified. It was literally the most pain I have ever been in. Side note, if and when I do get pregnant and carry to term, I am getting an Epidural!
I told Greg to call the doctor and he couldn't reach anyone. I told him he should take me to the hospital. I dressed myself in sweats, we threw together some stuff, and we were out the door headed to the hospital within a couple minutes. We arrived at the ER and checked in and I was still shaking and moaning. I expected to be rushed into to doctors waiting to check me, give me pain meds, and help me. Instead I sat moaning in a wheeled chair for what seemed like forever, while Greg continuously begged them to see me and insisted I was in severe pain. Eventually, I was checked by a preliminary nurse to got my vitals, and seemed relatively unconcerned with the fact that I was ready to die. She mostly seemed annoyed that I wouldn't stop shaking to give her a steady reading on her thermometer. After she checked me, I was returned to the lobby to sit and wait to be seen by a doctor. Somehow, the contractions finally started to stop, and after a while I actually felt like a somewhat normal human being again.
![]()
Finally, after about an hour in the lobby, our name was called, and I was admitted into the ER. I was seen by a great nurse and doctor, who listened to my whole awful story. I told them I could not handle the drugs, the contractions, and the pain and that I wanted a D&C so this would be over. They were able to reach my doctor group and schedule me for the D&C that morning- Saturday. I was so relieved.
Around 1:30am, I was discharged from the ER with paperwork to come back in the morning for my surgery. I went home and ate the best peach I've ever tasted, drank an ice cold glass of water- my last food and drink til after my surgery, then went to bed.
Saturday morning, we got up and got ready, on about 5 hours of sleep each, and headed to the hospital again. I was checked in and prepped for surgery by a great nursing staff, and my doctor came in to chat with us before the surgery. He was the same doctor we had for our first prenatal appointment, that had answered all my silly questions, and Greg and I both really liked and trusted him. He assured me the surgery involved no sharp instruments and would be as minimally invasive as possible. He understood our wish to conceive again and said in two menstrual cycles, we would be cleared to try again. I held back tears as he reassured me and squeezed my foot through my sheets.
I remember nothing after they wheeled me in to the hallway to go to the OR. I woke up in the same room where I was prepped and was given the best ginger ale and Saltines I have ever tasted.
The rest of the day was kind of a wash. I got my new prescriptions for bleeding and infection prevention, and Greg and I ordered some take-out Chinese, because I love wonton soup when I’m sick. We both took a 5 hour nap on Saturday afternoon and later I talked to my mom for a while when I woke up.
I wasn’t in pain at all from the surgery. At least not physical pain. Emotionally, I guess I have felt the same ever since I received the news on Friday: Sad, frustrated, worried, angry, jealous, numb, hollow, uncertain… Thoughts swim in my head. Why? Will we have trouble conceiving/maintaining a pregnancy again? Why do some people not have problems? Sometimes I feel like I just returned to the person I was before I got pregnant, but I know I really haven’t. This has changed me forever, and now when I look in the mirror, I see a sadness now that wasn’t there before. Something is missing now. I feel kind of apathetic. I noticed yesterday that I just didn’t care about things that might have bothered me before: my husband driving too slow, which sandwich to eat at lunch, whether the radio was on or off. It all seems completely trivial now.
My heart is broken.
I understand the mother/baby bond, even if I only got to experience it for a short time. I would rub my tummy and say, "Grow baby grow" to it all the time, hoping it would. I miss that already.
I need to mention that my friends and family have been great. My mom calls to check on me daily, and I've received countless texts, emails, phone calls, invitations for froyo and drinking binges, and even cupcakes from my friends. You guys are awesome, I love you, and thank you.
![]()
I do think we will conceive again. I have to keep that hope alive. I do think I will be a mother and hold my baby in my arms in the near future.
In the mean time, I told Greg that we need to take a trip, so as soon as he gets his August schedule, if we can swing it, we are hoping to leave the country for a few days.
On June 2nd, 2011, I found out I was pregnant.
I had just been to dinner with my husband and Book Club. I got home and was feeling really bloated. I really had no reason to think I might be pregnant that cycle, because I had realized early in the cycle that we were probably missing our "window" of when it could happen, since I had ovulated earlier than expected.
Anyway, I'm not sure what made me want to take a test that night, but through out the process of TTC I pretty much took tests at random and this night was no exception. I first took an "internet cheapie" as we like to call them. A while back I had ordered a bunch of these cheap HCG strip, no frills tests, for about $5 for 10 test or something, for moments like these when I wanted to take a test, but not blow $7 on ONE test. I took one while getting ready for bed and set it on the sink while brushing my teeth, washing my face, etc...
A few minutes went by, and I took a look. OMG... is that a faint line I see??
So I did what any hopeful person would do and took another, better test.
See the faint line, on the left?
Telling Greg ended up being completely anti-climactic since he was home when I took the tests, and my telling him involved yelling for him to come see the tests and confirm there was actually a line on them. It was a bit unfortunate since I'd been hoping all along he'd be gone on a trip and I'd wrap up a test or a "Daddy" onesie or something to tell him. He was skeptical when he saw how faint the lines were, but I explained that nothing shows up unless you are actually pregnant, and I went to bed pretty excited that this seemed to actually be happening finally.
The next day Greg left for a trip and I went to work, nervous and excited. I really never had a plan of who I would tell and when. I realized quickly in all my effort to get pregnant, now that it appeared I actually was, I had no idea what to do. I emailed Jen, who as many of you know is somewhat of an expert on pregnancy because of her job and personal experiences with it. Jen had just announced her own pregnancy, and when I emailed her that it appeared I was pregnant, she was thrilled for me. She told me to call my doctor and immediately schedule an appointment. I made an appointment for the following Tuesday, June 7th. The only other person I told the first day was my friend Alison, a fellow TTC buddy that I pretty much talk to on a daily basis about our TTC journey. I knew it would be hard not to tell her, and she shared in my joy. It was fun :)
Over the next few days, I took more and more tests, and watched my lines get darker.
I took a digital test, and got to see that beautiful word appear on the screen.
Finally, Tuesday came and we went to our first prenatal appointment. I'd been sure to schedule it when Greg would be home so he could join me. They performed a pregnancy test on me and confirmed that I was pregnant, then did a pelvic exam, and we talked to the doctor armed with a list of questions about everything from self-tanner, to flying, to migraines. He was great and answered all my questions. My due date was set for February 14th, Valentine's Day, which seemed fitting, since Greg and I were already in love with our little lentil.They set my first ultrasound appointment for about two weeks later, which we realized was pretty early in the pregnancy, and we worried a little that it would be too early to see a heartbeat, but went with it.
In the meantime, I enjoyed mocktails when I was out...
I ate lots of healthy stuff.
I bought and read pregnancy books and journals and diligently filled them in.
I eagerly read pregnancy blogs, taking in what I might expect to feel and look like in the coming months.
I fell in love with the idea that I was pregnant and going to have a baby, FINALLY.
I really didn't have a plan about whether or who I would tell I was pregnant. I know a lot of people wait til the end of the first trimester, til you're more "out of the woods", but I am not that great about keeping this kind of secret, and ended up telling some people along the way.
Luckily everyone I told shared in my joy :)
We told our families and they were over the moon with excitement for us, knowing how long we'd waited for this. The most fun was telling my brother and sister-in-law, who are expecting a baby in September. We told them together on Skype. I told Ashley that I might want to borrow some of her maternity clothes when she was done with them. :) We all were excited at the fact that our kids would be cousins only five months apart in age. How cool.
When I told my parents and told them when the first ultrasound was scheduled, my mom wanted to come with us and see her future grandchild on the screen. We agreed it would be cool for her to come and after a couple weeks of anticipation, our appointment on June 24th was upon us. My parents were so cute when they showed up. They brought the baby's first present.
At the doctor's office, Greg, my mom, and I went into the ultrasound room, where I changed into my sheet, got on the table, and the technician began the ultrasound. Soon my uterus popped up the screen and the tech asked how far along I was. I said I was about 6-7 weeks, and she said my yolk sac looked to be 5 weeks and 1 day, a little behind where we thought I'd be at that point. Confused, we next met with a nurse midwife, who went through the results with me.
 |
| Not my ultrasound, but it looked similar to this. |
Basically, the doctors considered me to be about 7 weeks pregnant at that point, since they go by the date of your last period. Even though I knew that my baby should only be about 5 weeks from the date we conceived, the ultrasound should still have shown me further along according to the tech and nurse. Still, I tried not to freak out, and asked about doing a Beta HCG test, to see if my hormone levels were normal or not. They agreed to do it, and I had the first test that day, with results in the 7,000's, good for 5-7 weeks pregnant. The way the test works, is that you take a second test about 48 to 72 hours later and you want your level to double if your pregnancy is normal.
Slightly uncertain, but not too worried, I went on with my weekend with my parents. We went to the mall, and Greg, knowing that I love the lamb themed nursery, bought me a lambie mobile, saying that we would need it, no matter what. I love him :)
Out of all of us, I think I remained the most optimistic and least worried all weekend. I felt like the ultrasound was explainable with the baby's size matching the date I believed we conceived. I was probably fine, it was just too early to conclusively know much. I was scheduled for a second ultrasound on July 11th, and knew that that would be the defining moment of my pregnancy, either we'd see a heartbeat or we wouldn't, and we would know if everything was okay or not. In the meantime, I would try to hang in there and stay positive.
Then Monday came, and I went in for the second Beta test on my way to work. A few hours later I received the results. My level didn't double, but it rose to 11,412. I didn't know what to think. More "gray" results. The number had climbed, but not doubled. That could mean things were okay, or it could mean bad news. I started to worry more than I had been with only the first ultrasound results. To make matters worse, I started having a little bit of bleeding later in the week, some brownish discharge.
I tried my best to remain “cautiously optimistic” as my nurse midwife had advised me too, but it was hard. Part of me still wanted to research cribs, and part of me googled miscarriage symptoms to see if I fit them.
I felt it could go either way. More than once I said that if I found out everything was normal, I would just think it was all explainable. If I found out there was something wrong with the baby, I would think these were all the signs. I had good days when I was completely optimistic and bad days when I wasn't sure it was going to be okay. It was a rough couple weeks, wondering and not knowing.
About a week out from the second ultrasound I had a meltdown. Maybe in hindsight it was intuition. Work was stressful and the lack of knowing what was going on with the baby was starting to kill me. I was scared and crying and I knew I couldn't wait til the 11th for an answer. We had originally scheduled our appointment for the 11th, partly because Greg was definitely off then and I needed him to be there with me. I realized he would be home by the morning of July 8th, and decided to call my doctor's office and see if I could move our appointment up to the afternoon of the 8th so that we could have our answer sooner. I also wanted the weekend to either celebrate or cope with whatever news we were given. At first they weren't sure if they could fit us in, but I explained everything going on to the person on the phone at my doctor's office and she agreed to somehow make it work and get us in for the afternoon of July 8th.
After changing the appointment, I left Greg a shaky message explaining that I had changed the appointment and that he would NEED to be home the morning of the 8th to come with me. He called me back and was great, sensing my anxiety and told me something wonderful. He said, “I’m one hundred percent sure we will be parents, so you don’t need to worry”. He said if it didn’t happen now, he knew it would still happen. It was comforting to hear him say those words.
Now, I have to tell you that during that week, I had to do something. I had to prepare myself for bad news. Everyone kept telling me to be optimistic, and I really did try to keep hope alive, but at the same time, I knew I had to prepare the possibility that I might get bad news. When I was cop, my training officers taught me to prepare for any situation that might occur: a person whipping out a gun on a traffic stop, guys running out of a bank after just robbing it, an accident occurring in front of me. They taught me that it was good to run through scenarios of things that might happen so that you would be prepared for how you would react. I learned to do this to prepare myself for possible outcomes. If I only prepared for good news, how I would I deal with it if I got bad news? I had to think about the receiving bad news, at least a little so I could prepare myself.
Friday finally came and Greg arrived home that morning, which was a relief, since sometimes he doesn't make it home when he think he will due to the nature of the airline industry. I left work early and we headed over to our appointment. It had been exactly two weeks since our last ultrasound, and this was the day we had waited for, we were finally going to get our answer. I was called back from the waiting room and changed into a sheet on the lower half of my body for my ultrasound. I climbed up on the table and the ultrasound tech got working to check me out. I soon saw a similar sac to the one we'd seen a few weeks ago on the ultrasound screen, but it looked bigger with a little something more inside this time. I was a little bit hopeful. But soon the ultrasound tech said she didn't detect any fetal heartbeat activity, and that I was only measuring at about 6 weeks and a few days. I knew...
Numb, I changed back into my clothes, then came out and hugged my husband, feeling the tears start to well up just as the tech opened the door and led us down the hall to an examining room. Our doctor came in, and we asked questions. She went through our ultrasound pictures with us and showed us why our pregnancy wasn't viable. Our yolk sac was too big, our baby was just unformed tissue. She wasn't sure that our baby ever had a heartbeat, since it would have been right on the cusp of being at that point when it stopped forming/growing around the 6 week mark. She was 100% sure that I had miscarried. I knew from my prior research, that I'd had a "missed miscarriage", where basically I'd had a miscarriage, but it wasn't expelling itself on its own.
Then came the hardest part for me in the process, deciding how I wanted to proceed. My options were:
1. Do nothing and let the miscarriage happen on its own if/when my body ever realized it was supposed to expel it, which obviously wasn't happening yet.
2. Take drugs to induce the miscarriage.
3. Have a D&C, to surgically remove the pregnancy.
I REALLY struggled with this decision. It was the thing that made me cry the most. I talked it over with Greg and thought about the options, and eventually decided to go the drug route (#2). It was obvious to me that my body was not in a hurry to expel the pregnancy, so the first option was kind of out, and surgery made me nervous. I didn't want to do anything that would prevent me from being able to have a baby in the future. Drugs seemed to be the logical option, since I could start the process of miscarrying non-invasively. The biggest con seemed to be that it might take a while, since the bleeding might not start right away and once it did, it could last a week or two. Also, the doctor would have to kind of monitor things closely to make sure everything was expelled as it was supposed to, because if it didn't, I could still have to have a D&C in the end to remove whatever didn‘t come out. I still thought the drugs seemed worth trying if it meant preserving my fertility, and walked out of the office with a prescription and a hollow heart.
I took my first dose of the Misoprostol around 6:30pm on Friday night, with some delicious Donato's pizza. In an hour or so I felt some cramping coming on, but nothing major. I popped a prescription strength Ibuprofen once I could feel the cramping more. Then it got worse, and I decided to take a Tylenol with Codeine, my other pain prescription. Basically, the Misoprostol induces labor. We're talking full on contractions. While I was advised of this by the doctor, I had no idea it would be so painful and severe. I started with a heating pad on my abdomen, and then things went downhill from there. After a while, I ran the bathroom and spent a bunch of time sitting on the toilet. It was getting ugly.
Then I started cramping, contracting, and shaking uncontrollably, and decided to climb into a lukewarm bathtub and run the Jacuzzi jets to see if that would ease the pain at all. It helped a little, but it was obviously I was in bad shape. I started to heave and Greg grabbed me the trash bin and I threw up. It was not pretty. I was crying, shaking, and terrified. It was literally the most pain I have ever been in. Side note, if and when I do get pregnant and carry to term, I am getting an Epidural!
I told Greg to call the doctor and he couldn't reach anyone. I told him he should take me to the hospital. I dressed myself in sweats, we threw together some stuff, and we were out the door headed to the hospital within a couple minutes. We arrived at the ER and checked in and I was still shaking and moaning. I expected to be rushed into to doctors waiting to check me, give me pain meds, and help me. Instead I sat moaning in a wheeled chair for what seemed like forever, while Greg continuously begged them to see me and insisted I was in severe pain. Eventually, I was checked by a preliminary nurse to got my vitals, and seemed relatively unconcerned with the fact that I was ready to die. She mostly seemed annoyed that I wouldn't stop shaking to give her a steady reading on her thermometer. After she checked me, I was returned to the lobby to sit and wait to be seen by a doctor. Somehow, the contractions finally started to stop, and after a while I actually felt like a somewhat normal human being again.
Finally, after about an hour in the lobby, our name was called, and I was admitted into the ER. I was seen by a great nurse and doctor, who listened to my whole awful story. I told them I could not handle the drugs, the contractions, and the pain and that I wanted a D&C so this would be over. They were able to reach my doctor group and schedule me for the D&C that morning- Saturday. I was so relieved.
Around 1:30am, I was discharged from the ER with paperwork to come back in the morning for my surgery. I went home and ate the best peach I've ever tasted, drank an ice cold glass of water- my last food and drink til after my surgery, then went to bed.
Saturday morning, we got up and got ready, on about 5 hours of sleep each, and headed to the hospital again. I was checked in and prepped for surgery by a great nursing staff, and my doctor came in to chat with us before the surgery. He was the same doctor we had for our first prenatal appointment, that had answered all my silly questions, and Greg and I both really liked and trusted him. He assured me the surgery involved no sharp instruments and would be as minimally invasive as possible. He understood our wish to conceive again and said in two menstrual cycles, we would be cleared to try again. I held back tears as he reassured me and squeezed my foot through my sheets.
 |
| The nurses gave me a cute stuffed monkey to hold. |
I remember nothing after they wheeled me in to the hallway to go to the OR. I woke up in the same room where I was prepped and was given the best ginger ale and Saltines I have ever tasted.
The rest of the day was kind of a wash. I got my new prescriptions for bleeding and infection prevention, and Greg and I ordered some take-out Chinese, because I love wonton soup when I’m sick. We both took a 5 hour nap on Saturday afternoon and later I talked to my mom for a while when I woke up.
I wasn’t in pain at all from the surgery. At least not physical pain. Emotionally, I guess I have felt the same ever since I received the news on Friday: Sad, frustrated, worried, angry, jealous, numb, hollow, uncertain… Thoughts swim in my head. Why? Will we have trouble conceiving/maintaining a pregnancy again? Why do some people not have problems? Sometimes I feel like I just returned to the person I was before I got pregnant, but I know I really haven’t. This has changed me forever, and now when I look in the mirror, I see a sadness now that wasn’t there before. Something is missing now. I feel kind of apathetic. I noticed yesterday that I just didn’t care about things that might have bothered me before: my husband driving too slow, which sandwich to eat at lunch, whether the radio was on or off. It all seems completely trivial now.
My heart is broken.
I understand the mother/baby bond, even if I only got to experience it for a short time. I would rub my tummy and say, "Grow baby grow" to it all the time, hoping it would. I miss that already.
I need to mention that my friends and family have been great. My mom calls to check on me daily, and I've received countless texts, emails, phone calls, invitations for froyo and drinking binges, and even cupcakes from my friends. You guys are awesome, I love you, and thank you.
I do think we will conceive again. I have to keep that hope alive. I do think I will be a mother and hold my baby in my arms in the near future.
In the mean time, I told Greg that we need to take a trip, so as soon as he gets his August schedule, if we can swing it, we are hoping to leave the country for a few days.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
