Sorry to have been gone so long. I intended to post on the 29th after my ultrasound, but was unprepared for what was about to happen.
I went in for my ultrasound expect, at the worst, to have my date pushed back a couple weeks (given my long cycles, I don’t believe that I ovulated when they expected me to, so my dates may be confusing). I arrived and was given an abdominal ultrasound at first. Unfortunately, having been so constipated for so long, we could not see anything through all the blockages so I needed to switch to a transvaginal wand. It was mildly uncomfortable, but it was nothing compared to the difficult the ultrasound tech seemed to be having. She told me that she was having a hard time finding my uterus (confusing, considering that this woman has been with the practice for 20+ years) and once she did she simply asked “Have you had any irregular bleeding or spotting?” I knew exactly what she was suggesting, and I assured her I had not. I was FURIOUS, you can’t simply tell me nothing and then ask if I may have miscarried. I had no idea what to expect from my ultrasound, so I was not sure what to look for, but from the sounds of things, it didn’t look good. She printed out some pictures and sent me off to the waiting room to talk to my midwife.
I met with a midwife who was a very nice lady. She started to explain a little bit about what was happening. Evidently, they could see a yolk sac, but no baby. After that she told me that we would do some blood work and check my hCG levels to see if everything seemed okay, but that I would have to come back on Tuesday to have another ultrasound and see the OB. The midwife took our medical and family history’s and continued on with the appointment as normal. She gave me an entire tree’s worth of pamphlets on what to do and not do during pregnancy and all the things I could expect in my upcoming second trimester. After that was done and she had completed my PAP and breast exam, she sat down to explain things further.
I was told that there’s a chance that I may not be as far along as I thought, which would explain a yolk sac, but no baby. There’s also a slight risk of ectopic pregnancy, but that’s unlikely given that the yolk sac is growing in my uterus and, to quote the midwife, “things usually don’t grow in two places, but you never know.” The third, and seemingly most likely scenario is a blighted ovum. Mind you, this term was never used while I was at the office. I had to learn most of what I know about this at home on my computer. The midwife said that if that were the case, then I had several options. Either a D&C to remove the tissue from my uterus surgically (as when they do an early abortion), I could take vaginal suppositories to make my uterus contract and help speed things up, or I could wait to miscarry naturally. Up to this point, no one had used the word “miscarriage” to describe what was happening to me. The midwife seemed so nonchalant. I was a little angry, I couldn’t understand why she was so calm when my world felt like it was falling apart. In hindsight, I’m sure she’s seen this a million times, it’s not her body or her baby, it doesn’t affect her. I held back tears until she left the room. Eric rushed over from his chair to hold me while I sobbed and apologized. Nothing seemed real. I didn’t want to be alive. I certainly didn’t feel like going out there to make another appointment and head to the hospital for blood work. Eventually, I calmed enough to go to the front desk. The midwife said that Tuesday’s are surgery days, so if I think that there may be any chance that, if need be, I would want to do the D&C, I should avoiding eating after midnight before my appointment so they could get me in as soon as possible. At first, before we had researched, but while we were on our way to the hospital. Eric and I discussed what we might want to do. We initially agreed that the surgery might be the best option.
When I went for my blood work, we did the normal full panel of pregnancy blood work. Naturally, that meant that the woman who drew my blood new that I was pregnant. She congratulated me and talked to me about her own children. I wanted to die. I hoped I would bleed out right then and there so I wouldn’t have to hear anymore of this. I went home, did some research, visited my mother, and cried.
I stumbled upon misdiagnosedmiscarriage.com It was full of stories of women who, like me, were told that they may have an inviable pregnancy and they were even pushed to D&C despite the nagging feeling that something was not right about it. These women waited weeks, some even a month or more, before finding out that they were, in fact, having a healthy, normal pregnancy. There are disclaimers on the site stating that this is not the norm. In fact, blighted ovum is responsible for 50% of early pregnancy loss. My first thought was to educate myself as much as possible so that I could hope and pray that my baby was okay. As time went on though, I’ve been realizing that I’m likely giving myself false hope and preparing myself for misery.
As of yesterday, I’ve realized that my symptoms are fading. I have not been sick (save for anxiety nausea) and my breasts are no longer unbearably sore. Last night I slept comfortably without a bra on. I’m trying to convince myself that maybe I’m just getting far enough into my pregnancy that my discomfort is subsiding, as it sometimes does, but part of me feels that that is simply not the case.
I’ve been devastated by this. Two nights ago, I cried for 3 solid hours. Inconsolable. I simply wanted my baby back. I didn’t want this to all be for nothing. As I’m just wrapping my head around the idea of actually enjoying being a mother, it’s being taken from me. I don’t know how you get over that.
Fortunately I have a wonderful mother who has 4 children with 2 miscarriages in between. Although it’s different as she already had children when she miscarried, she has been a wonderful source of support and information. Unfortunately, Eric and I had to have a big fight over this before we were able to get it out in the open and discuss how we both feel about it. He’s seemed so unconcerned and it kills me. Then, last night, I found out that he had told his friend Matt (whom I have a strong distaste for anyone and have specifically requested that Matt stay out of anything involving me). We had already agreed that we would tell no one except my mother until we knew more. I was livid. He thought I was crazy. I told him that if he wants to talk about it then at least let me know because I am thoroughly lost on the fact that he seems to not care. He said he can’t share this with me because he’s afraid to upset me, he doesn’t want to see me cry for hours on end when there’s nothing he can do about it. I understand the logic, but I tried explaining that I would feel much better if he were to seem like he cared, so I didn’t have to be so alone in this. I explained that I feel like a failure, I’ve been so afraid for so long that I would never get pregnant. Now I have and I failed. I don’t want people to know that. At least not yet. He was sympathetic. He cried with me. He admitted his fears and we held each other. I felt much more at peace. As of today, at 7:12pm, I have yet to cry over this again. It’s confusing, but knowing that I’m not going through this alone, and being able to talk to my partner about it makes it less scary. I don’t feel like I have to dread what comes next.
I’m still terrified. I’m filled with guilt and fear and worry. Monday I get my hCG levels checked again. With any luck, they’ll continue to rise and things will be looking up. Tuesday is the ultrasound. I refuse to D&C. I realize how slim the chance is that, if they find nothing on Tuesday, I will still end up with a baby, but I cannot let them take that from me through force. If I were to have any medical intervention to speed up the process, I would forever be wondering if maybe, had I waited just I little longer, would I have had my baby after all?
I’m starting to lose hope. I don’t want to yet. It’s hard to convince myself to keep taking my prenatals and to take care of myself as though I’m confident in my pregnancy. I want to drink and cry and let go, but I can’t let myself do that yet, no matter how hard it is. I’m afraid that if I lose hope, then the baby is gone for certain. I’m also afraid that, even if they find nothing and I’m just waiting to miscarry, I’ll be trying to treat myself as though I’m pregnant in hopes that maybe I won’t miscarry after all only to be further destroy when the day finally comes. I plan on getting a second opinion and a new doctor, no matter what happens. I cannot just sit back and wait for something that I’m not sure of.
My updates may be few and far between, but I assure you I will keep going with this. I plan to update on the status of my baby, body, and psyche. The idea of this blog was to let people know what to expect. That doesn’t stop just because things get hard.