Lately I’ve been thinking about my miscarriage I had last year a lot.
2008 started off with my 21st birthday. I didn’t go out and party, had in fact only had maybe 2 or 3 drinks in my first week of turning 21. I didn’t feel good, but just put it down to a stomach bug going around at the time. But when it continued for several days when everyone else only had it for 24 hours I began to get worried. A day before my first missed period I took a pregnancy test. I was too scared to take it at home (because we were living with my parents) so I waited until I got to school, called my best friend and we skipped our morning classes and went to Starbucks. When we got there I went into the bathroom and took the test. I was sure it had to be wrong, so I talked my friend into also taking one, shocker of all, her test came back positive too. This just seemed to reaffirm our beliefs that they were wrong. We decided to take the rest of the day off from school and we went to Wal-Mart bought digital tests, went into the store bathrooms and took them, this time getting in no uncertain terms “pregnant.” You would think we’d have been happy, I mean what’s better than finding out that not only you are pregnant, but your best friend is too? We each had our own reasons to be upset. John and I had been talking about the possibility ofmore children, but not yet or anytime soon, and my best friend had already suffered two miscarriages, one only 4 months before.
I told John the next day and he was very angry, as if maybe it was my fault. He suggested maybe we should have an abortion and I told him no, not only was it against my beliefs, but after having the boys I could never see how anyone could do that. It was the only time in our marriage so far that we’ve gone to bed angry with each other, and we stayed angry for several days. I was sick and depressed. John came to me a few days later and said he wanted the baby too that he was just so scared and worried about how we would afford another child. I told him it was ok, God knows what he’s doing. I called my doctor and made an appointment, so did my friend, both of our appointments were for the beginning of March. She was still very nervous, hadn’t told anyone at all, and I had only told her and John.
March came and she was feeling more optimistic so was I. We were both sick as dogs, but mine was starting to get better. We went to my appointment first, hers was the next day. They took my blood, asked all the usual questions, did a quick peek “down there,” and then told me I could get my friend because they would be doing the measurement ultrasound to get a better idea of when I would be due, my calculations told me October 10th. The ultrasound technician was nice, asking questions and chatting with us as she started the ultrasound. She got quiet and focused more on the monitor and asked me again when my last period was, I told her, and she looked at the monitor again and asked if I was sure. I told her yes, I was positive that was the last day because I kept close watch on my period. She stepped out for a minute, then came back in, turned on the lights and said the baby was measuring at 7 1/2 weeks, not the 10 it should be, and that yes, there is a heartbeat, but it’
s weak. I didn’t know what to think. I held my friend’s and my friend asked her what this meant. The technician said they couldn’t tell yet what it meant exactly, but they would schedule me for more tests. My friend took me home and I called John and told him. They had given me an ultrasound picture, but only because I asked for it. The technician hadn’t felt it was a good idea and had to go ask the doctor first.
We told my parents that night about the pregnancy and that there might be something wrong with it.
My friend’s appointment was normal, but neither of us could bring ourselves to be happy. The next two weeks were hell. I had to go for blood test every 3 days. At first my numbers not only continued to rise, but they were incredibly high. Then, they dropped. Not much, and they stayed at that level. I still was getting sick, but it wasn’t as bad, until it dropped down to just a slight queasiness. The nurses kept telling me there was no reason to be overly worried yet, they had picked up a heartbeat. True it was slow, and just a little irregular, but still it was a heartbeat.
I started spotting. I was at school in my last class of the day, and I didn’t need to pee (I had gone right before class) but I knew I needed to go to the bathroom. I was spotting. I called the doctor freaking out, he told me since the blood was more brown than red to calm down, to rest all the next day, and that he would order a vaginal ultrasound for the next day. The spotting continued getting more and more and redder and redder. By the time John got home I was in our bed crying. I couldn’t sleep that night so I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. I stood up and felt a trickle go down my leg. I was no longer spotting, I was bleeding. By morning I was in horrible pain and bleeding a lot. My doctor told me to come in. It was the first time I actually saw him. The nurse led me straight to a room, no waiting in the waiting room for those miscarrying, and the doctor came in. He searched for a heartbeat and found none. He told me I was miscarrying the baby, that these things “just happen and only God knows the reason why.” I didn’t cry. We agreed I would still go in for the ultrasound later as a confirmation, and that I was to come in a week later for a D&C. I still did not cry. I got to my mom’s van (she took me), my mom looked at me and said “Oh baby” and I started crying and didn’t stop for the rest of the day.
I went into the ultrasound later that day with my mom. John didn’t want me to go alone. The ultrasound showed a beautifully formed 10 week baby. You see the baby had continued growing. My baby slowly was dying, while the doctor kept telling me not to worry. It had no heartbeat and it did not move. The nurse told me I needed to start watching when I went to the bathroom to see if the baby passes, because if not I would need to come in for the D&C. My mother told her no, that it was not something I needed to try to look for and that my body would know how to handle it.
The next week my friend lost her baby too. Neither of us had any reason for why.
I don’t know why I’ve been thinking of this recently. I try not to, but lately everything’s been making me think of it. Its one of those things I want to forget, I pray to forget, but at the same time I don’t want to. I have a beautiful baby girl now, who thanks to how fertile I was after the miscarriage was conceived 4 months later. But it still hurts.