Miscarried at 9 weeks 2 days

on December 23, 2010

Leominster, MA


My husband and I married right out of college but gave ourselves a good 3 years to get our feet on the ground and enjoy being a couple. In January of 2009, after years of fighting recurrent ovarian cysts, mood swings and just feeling plain ole crazy, I decided to go off the pill. We threw caution to the wind and left it to fate. We never focused on getting pregnant, but deep down hoped it would happen. There were months when I would see a faint line that would disappear days later. (I now know I was having chemical pregnancies.)

After a year of disappointing periods, we knew something must be wrong. Seeing as I had had two surgeries on my ovaries in college for numerous cysts, I assumed my ovaries were uncooperative and that I should be tested. My OB insisted we also check my husband’s sperm count.  The dye test was complete, and I was given the a-ok. My husband was asked to have a follow up specimen to be sure the numbers were accurate. His percentage of normal sperm was 7% at best. He was referred to a urologist and told he had bilateral vericosele. Surgery was the only answer. It took us a month of contemplations, but we decided to seek a second opinion from a fertility specialist.

Another month of waiting to hear surgery would not help. IVF would be the only way we could conceive. We trusted our doctor and followed their normal protocol to begin the process. I again, was given the a-ok after very little testing. I began the shots and was lucky enough to create 19 follicles, 11 of which continued to grow once ICSI was complete. We had 8 embryos, 8 little souls waiting to grow. 5 days passed, Nov 2010, we inseminated 1 as directed by our doctor because of our age.

I remember days after feeling that little soul digging its way in, growing inside of me. The nausea began right away along with the nonnegotiable afternoon nap. I was monitored each week to be sure my HcG levels were increasing properly. On Nov 20th, my husband’s grandfather passed away. Having lived with and loved this little man, we were devastated. The day before his funeral my nurse called to say my levels were not elevating properly and she was concerned. I was to go in the following day for an ultrasound to check the placement of our baby, the day of the funeral. That morning we awoke, showered and was ready to walk out the door to our appointment when we received word my husband’s uncle had passed away quickly after being diagnosed with cancer. We somehow managed to get to the ultrasound and patiently waited to see our baby.

And there it was, 6 weeks 2 days, a strong heart beat. Our child was growing and was perfectly healthy, measuring right on schedule. Tears began pouring from my eyes. We had been open with our family throughout our IVF process and knew this would give a glimmer of happiness in a devastating time. We headed out, and arrived right at the end of the funeral.

Black Friday we packed and headed to Florida for his uncle’s funeral. I remember asking the nurse if it would be safe to go, and they assured me flying would not be an issue. The entire week we were there, the nausea was constant. Always reminding me that I was finally pregnant, getting me through this heart breaking time.

Sometime later, I remember everything stopped. I woke up one morning, no longer nauseas. Foolishly I believed maybe I was that lucky girl whose nausea subsided well before the 12th week. I know now that it was a sign. It wasn’t until week 9 I noticed a very light pink spotting. I remained calm, knowing my sister had spotted throughout her most of her pregnancy. I called my husband who insisted I phone the doctor. We had already been referred to our OB, whom we chose a new one once we found out we were pregnant. They scheduled an ultrasound.

I knew something was wrong. I knew deep down inside me that I should be worried, but my optimistic husband kept my thoughts positive. I remember asking the technician, who kept the screen pointed away from us, if she could see a heartbeat. Her response “I promise you will have all your questions answered before you leave this room.” She finished her images, and left to follow up with the radiologist. We were told to wait and they would phone to inform us of the outcome. Seconds seemed like years. Time passed so slowly while my mind flooded with thoughts of our child.

The technician came in and asked that we go up to our doctor’s office where they would review the images. More waiting, more unknowing. We were escorted into a room. The doctor came in, her face gave everything away. “It’s not good news” she said. The flood of tears over took my body, and I began convulsing. I was miscarrying. We were losing our child. 2 years of trying, and in one moment, all hope left. On Dec 23 I went in for a D&C. That morning I began clotting at home prior to the procedure. I couldn’t look, I would blindly clean myself up and flush away the pieces of my pregnancy. Crying every time.

The drive to the hospital was torture. The cramping became intense and the clotting continued. By the time we arrived, I was ghostly white and keeled over in pain. The nurses were amazing, quickly escorting the anesthesiologist to my side to make me more comfortable. My husband waited alone, I can only imagine how long those minutes must have felt for him. I awoke to grasping my empty womb sobbing “My baby”, knowing he was gone. (I knew from the first moment it was a boy.)

The following days were filled with endless tears. I tried to retain my composure and get through the holidays. It helped that my family knew, they were supportive and allowed me to bask in the full extent of my emotions. Comforting me and assuring me I would be okay.

With two remaining frozen embryos, we attempted to conceive again in April of 2011. Only one survived the unfreezing process. We inseminated again. No nausea, negative blood test. Heartbroken, we decided it was time for a break. I remember hearing stories of couples taking time away from IVF and never understanding why. I now know how emotionally draining it is, affecting every aspect of your life. I lost hope. How could I go through this again. What if we lose another child. It was then my cousin informed me of NaPro Technology. A technique that trains OB/Gyns to fully understand the female’s cycle. They work with The Creighton Model of family planning to look into markers and indications of infertility.

My NaPro doctor determined I had undiagnosed endometriosis, hypothyroidism, and a very low immune system.  We’ve endured surgery, vitamins, nutrients and prescriptions. All have allowed me to truly see the spectrum of fertility and know how my body is working. We remain hopeful that with the help of our NaPro doctor we may be able to conceive naturally one day. But not a moment goes by that I don’t think of my son. My first child that was born on Dec 23, 2010. The first hope in becoming a family who was taken too early.

You can reach Celia at eatscreamcry@gmail.com

You can also view Celia’s blog at www.eatscreamcry.blogspot.com


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