There is something about blogging that makes me feel
overwhelmed. I haven’t quite put my finger on it yet. It might have to do with
the fact that I don’t think I ever have anything interesting to say. It might
be that I usually wait months between blog posts and then feel like I have too
much to say. Or maybe it’s the fact that so many of my friends have such cute
blogs and mine is kinda blah. Whatever the reason, I have been trying to talk
myself into getting into the habit of blogging lately now that we are having a
baby because I know that I am going to want to remember the moments of this
sweet baby boy’s life and the journey that we took to get him here. In an
attempt to make a start, I finally have decided to blog about one of the most
difficult experiences of my life. The reason that I feel like its important is
because I feel like its something that not many people talk about, but more
people have experienced it than you’d think.
The story starts back in October. Me and Patrick had talked
about it and decided it was time for us to start a family. We started trying
and I got pregnant on our very first month of trying. It was very surreal. We
were ecstatic. We started making plans, talking about names, and told a few
family members that we were expecting. I made an appointment with a new doctor
because I didn’t have an OBGYN at that point. We had to wait 12 weeks for our
first appointment because that was the standard procedure at this particular
doctors office. Everything felt like it was going great. I was getting bigger.
I was nauseated all the time. I had all the classic pregnancy symptoms that I
was told were good signs. We waited anxiously for the day of our appointment to
come. I kept telling my husband and the family members that knew I was pregnant
that it didn’t feel real. That I had this irrational fear that I was going to
go to the doctors office and he was going to tell me I was never pregnant.
Everyone laughed and tried to make me feel better.
Finally the day of my appointment came. We anxiously waited
for the doctor to come in. She went over the normal “new patient” information
and asked about my symptoms. I was given a bag of books and baby freebies. Then
she said “Now for the fun part! Lets do the ultrasound!” I nervously got up on
the table. She turned the screen on and moved the probe around. Nothing. But a
big empty sac. I didn’t know what I was really looking at or what to expect
since this was my first baby. She looked concerned and asked if there was any
way my dates could be off. I told her we were pretty certain about our dates.
All she said at that point was “Well, we don’t really know what’s going on. You
might be pregnant and just be earlier. You might not. It might just be an empty
sac. We will just have to wait and see. Ill see you back in about another week
and a half and we’ll go from there”. I was so confused! I might be pregnant. I
might not be pregnant. HUH!? She left me to put my clothes back on and I cried
in my husband arms. When I went up front to make my return appointment the
receptionist went back and talked to my doctor and then came back up front and
said “We will call you if you need to come back in”. I felt like I had been
written off.
I went home, broke
the news to my family, and started furiously googling to find out for myself
what my diagnosis was, since my doctor obviously wasn’t telling me. My cousin
found a good possibility called blighted ovum. Its where the eggs gets
fertilized but never grows. But your body still thinks that it is pregnant and
displays all the same symptoms of a normal pregnancy. The gestational sac still grows, it is just
empty. I prepared myself for the worst.
In my heart, I knew that miscarriage was eminent and I started to wish that if
it was going to happen, it would hurry up and get over with. Three days later
it did. I wont go into the details, but at one point I was in so much pain I
felt like I was literally dying. My husband put his hands on my head and
commanded the pain to leave my body using priesthood power and as soon as he
said the words, I was flooded with relief. We called the on call doctor and
told her our suspicions that it was a blight ovem. She checked my chart and
confirmed that my doctor had written that down as my diagnosis. She didn’t
bother to tell me that. I was furious. I felt like I had been lied to by my own
doctor. I had to google my own diagnosis and prepare for the chances of
miscarriage on my own. The next few days were a blur. A lot of tears,
heartache, and prayers. Although technically the egg never grew and there never
was a baby, it felt real to me now.
As we tried to pick up the pieces, we knew we wanted to try
again for a baby right away. But the fear set in. I felt like having a normal
healthy pregnancy wasn’t in my future. Even though multiple people reassured me
that it was common to have a miscarriage with your first baby and that
thousands of other woman had experienced what I was going through, I felt very
alone. I think the reason I felt alone was because its something that most
people that have experienced it just don’t talk about. For me, I felt slight
embarrassment as well. I felt like my body had failed me and that I was broken
in some way. I remember reading two friends posts on their blogs about
miscarriages they had had. It helped a lot! I didn’t felt so alone. So although
its difficult to talk about and think about, I hope that this post can help
someone else that is going through what me and Patrick went through. You are
not alone. The pain will go away. Happiness will be achievable again.
Now on to the happy part of this story! We were able to
conceive again right away. My miscarriage happened at the beginning of January
and by the middle of February I was pregnant again. I was so happy! I remember
taking the test while Patrick was at work and when those words popped up
announcing “pregnant” I squealed and jumped around the room. Although we were
so happy to have a second chance, we were also scared to hope that it would
turn out any different than last time. We didn’t want to get our hopes too
high. I made an appointment with a new doctor (yeah, I wasn’t going back to the
doctor who didn’t even tell me what to expect) to be seen around 8 weeks. I
didn’t want to wait until 12 weeks to be told it was another empty sac.
Then around 5 weeks, the fear we had been holding at bay
became a reality. I was getting ready for work when I felt a rush of blood.
Patrick was already gone for work. I couldn’t believe it was happening again. I
called the on call doctor at my new office and they had me come in for a blood
test. They called me the next day to tell me my levels were high enough that
they could do an ultrasound. When we went to the ultrasound, everything looked
right and was measuring fine, but they couldn’t find a heartbeat. They assured
me that everything looked fine and that it was normal to not see the heartbeat
yet. They sent me home and said to call if the bleeding got worse. I didn’t
have any more problems after that, but in my back of my mind, I tried to
prepare myself to go to my 8 week appointment and have them tell me my dreams
of becoming a mom were put on hold again.
I don’t think I slept at all the night before the
appointment. I was excited and nervous. When the time finally came and the
ultrasound popped up on the screen, there was my baby. It didn’t look like a
baby, but he was there. His little heartbeat looked like a blinking light. It
was strong and fast. I breathed a huge sigh of relief and I remember exchanging
glances with Patrick. He squeezed my hand tight. Our baby was there. He
measured great. The doctor said everything looked perfect. Even though I heard
her say those words, each time I visited the doctor after that, I felt a little
pang of worry as im sure every mom does, hoping everything is still going
great.
Just 2 weeks ago, we had our appointment to find out the sex
of the baby and to make sure everything was developing properly. We were both
convinced that it was going to be a little girl. All the old wives tales seemed
to point in that direction and we both just felt it was a girl. To our
surprise, it’s a healthy little BOY. He’s our little fighter. Atleast that’s
the way I see it. He was strong enough to make it past the initial scare of a
miscarriage and or course handled all the stress im sure I put him through
because of all my stressing like a champ! We couldn’t be happier.
And so, this is the beginning of our little family of three.
Looking forward to camping trips, mud fights, and football games with our
little man. I know that my husband will be an amazing father and I must give
him props for how he dealt with the trials we went through to get where we are
today. While I was falling apart at the seams, he held our family together and
was exactly what I needed. I don’t know that this is the end of our trials and
of course there is still a chance that there will be complications further on
down the road. But for now, I am done stressing and worrying and am going to
spend more time picking out cute newsies hats and baby boy suspenders.
