February 23, 2011
June 24, 2011
My husband and I decided in October of 2010 that we would try to start our family in January 2011. After talking to my Sister-In-Law on January 23, I realized that I was able to take an HPT. I was 5 days out from my next period and I was almost shaking as I took the test. PREGNANT! My husband and I stared at in in disbelief. We both started laughing and crying and hugged each other. “It actually works! Making a baby actually works!” we were saying. We were so cocky. Looking back I feel so embarrassed about how overly confident we were.
When we started to tell people right away, I started to grow increasingly uncomfortable as we were telling them. In my head I kept thinking “we shouldn’t tell this early”, but I was so excited I couldn’t keep my mouth shut!
When I went to my first OBGYN appointment I found out I wouldn’t get an ultrasound until 12 weeks. I remember casually saying to the nurse, “wow. I wish I had one earlier, I feel like I need to know the baby is growing right”. She must have mentioned something to the doctor because he went ahead and scheduled one for 9 weeks.
My husband and I celebrated Valentine’s Day the weekend after on February 19th. My calendar still has our plans from that day on it. We went to see Kathy Griffin. Before the show I went to the bathroom and noticed a red spot in my underwear. One. Red. Spot. I obsessed about it the whole night. The next day, I called the 24/7 nurse line when I noticed some brown spotting. They told me to call my OBGYN on Monday. Monday rolled around and I went to work. All of the sudden the brown turned to pink turned to red. I knew it was over. I called my OB and they told me not to panic, they upped my ultrasound to that day. My mom met me there (husband works in a city an hour away) and I had the ultrasound done. It took a long time and I was starting to panic. FINALLY! I saw the sac and our little baby. I cried. The ultrasound techs were very quiet and kept clicking their mouse. They called to the radiologist and said “we are doing a viability scan….7.5 weeks” and hung up.
They told me I could get dressed. They met me in the hall and said, “you can go see your OB now”. They never handed me the picture of my baby. I knew, but still held on to a small bit of hope.
“You date your pregnancy at 7 weeks 5 days and the fetus is measuring at 5 weeks 5 days”, the OB told me. It took me a minute to process what he was saying. “Let’s hope for the best, but prepare for the worst”. I completely broke down. This wasn’t happening to me.
At 8 weeks and 5 days I had contractions and then on 8 weeks 6 days I passed my baby on February 23rd.
I hurt, but I knew we were going to wait the prescribed cycle and try again. Avoided in April, tried to nothing in May, tried in June. We had given up on June when I had a bit of spotting. I thought it was my period and had a one day bleed on a Saturday. One day? That was odd. I called my OB and they ran my blood on Monday. Beta of 25! I was pregnant?!?! Wednesday, Beta of 71! My beta tripled, the nurse congratulated me over the phone. Friday, Beta of 23. Blighted Ovum.
If you would have asked me in October of 2010 if I knew recurring miscarriages was a possibility I would have looked at you like you were crazy. I knew the odds of one miscarriage, but still didn’t connect that it was a real possibility even though the first pregnancy never felt “right”. No one talks about pregnancy loss out loud. I had no idea what a miscarriage was emotionally or that multiple ones could happen. Until it happened to me.
Angie can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org.