Looking Back

It was one year ago today that everything came crashing down.

DH and I were so excited that the day of our first prenatal check-up had finally arrived. I was 9 weeks, 4 days pregnant, and we couldn’t wait to meet our little baby for the first time. While we were in the waiting room, DH joked about what we would do if there was more than one heartbeat. I said that I knew we would make it work, and that I would just be grateful to have one heartbeat. I suddenly got this thought in the back of my mind about how I hoped our situation would be different than the miscarriage scene in the movie “Marley and Me”; we had just watched the movie a few weeks ago. I tried to push the thought out of my mind because we hadn’t had any problems, but it still nagged at me.

When we were called back for the appointment and the nurse was checking me in, I still had that same nagging feeling, but I kept trying to push it away. It was almost like my subconscious was warning me that there wasn’t going to be a happy ending. I remember thinking “what if there really isn’t a baby in there?”

The nurse directed us to a room and had me change into a hospital gown. When I took of my underwear, DH noticed a little bit of something that looked like brown blood. I hadn’t had any spotting at all, so I figured we would just ask the doctor about it during the appointment. When my doctor came in, she decided to start with an u/s. She made a comment about my uterus “being small” and needing to do a transvaginal u/s to have a better picture. She called her nurse back in and started checking things again. Once the transvaginal u/s started, DH and I could immediately tell that there was a problem. I could see her looking at the monitor and checking the baby’s measurements, but she didn’t say anything. Finally, she had DH come around and she showed us what she was looking at. The news was crushing. She informed us that our baby did not have a heartbeat that was visible on the u/s and that it only measured to 6 weeks 4 days. The doctor told us there were two possibilities: the first, and more likely, was that I was having a late m/c. The second possibility was that my dates were three weeks off and that it was barely too early to see the heartbeat. She recommended having blood work done immediately after the appointment and then in two days to see if my hormone levels were sufficiently rising. I agreed to the blood work, even though I knew that there was no way that my dates were three weeks off. How else would I have gotten a BFP when I did? After answering our questions, she left DH and me alone in the exam room. I immediately broke down while I tried to get dressed and make sense of the situation.

I went to have my blood drawn and then headed home. Once we got home, I started crying again. I called my mom to let her know what had happened and DH told his parents. My parents came over that night to bring us dinner and help us cope. I called in to work for the rest of the week, because I knew there was no way I could handle being there. My mom spent most of the next few days with my as I prepared myself for the inevitable. She was GREAT, because she knew exactly what I was going through. My mom has had eight miscarriages, so she was such a big help.

Two days after my blood work, I drove back to the lab. I went home and waited for the phone call that would confirm what we were all expecting. Later that afternoon, I started bleeding. I freaked out and called my mom and DH (they both had to go into work), who both came back to the house as quickly as possible. I believe I passed our baby that next day, which would have been my ten week mark.

Looking back, I would still say that the m/c is the most physically and emotionally painful thing that I have gone through. After it happened, I remember thinking that “at least I knew I could get pg” and that “We should be able to have another baby quickly because I got pg so quickly and easily the first time”. I thought for sure that I would be pg again by the time my SIL had her baby in May, or at least by the time my baby would have been due in August.

Now, it is a year later, and I feel like we are in the same situation. Nothing has changed, and I feel like I am no closer to having a baby of my own. I still don’t understand why we had to lose our baby, and I probably never will. It is just as confusing and frustrating to me today as it was a year ago. I do feel that this experience has changed me in many ways and has brought DH and me closer together, but I am more than ready to move on and begin the next chapter of our family.