Miscarriage Memories

Although this isn't my normal happy and fun post, it is something that is really important to

me and worth taking a little time to write about and remember how I am feeling.  

In January Ryan and I made the decision to try for a third baby.  We are so thankful for the

two healthy boys we have and want to add even more happiness to our lives.  That very first

month of trying I got pregnant.  I could hardly believe it happened so fast, but we were

happy and figured it was meant to be.  After just a few days I started spotting.  I was still

hopeful because I had spotting with both the boys at some point during their pregnancies,

and thought perhaps that was my norm and everything would be ok.  Unfortunately after a

few visits to the doctor for bloodwork, it was confirmed that I had an early miscarriage.  

To be honest, it was always something I feared when I was pregnant.  My older sister had

three miscarriages and my mom had one, so it was always on my mind.  Now here I was in

the same situation.  I was upset and frustrated, but at the same time somewhat thankful that

it happened so early in the process.  I tried to convince myself it wasn't meant to be and it

was a very good thing it happened before I got too attached.  

A few months later I got pregnant again, although this time I wasn't nearly as excited.  I didn't write in my pregnancy journal, didn't tell many people, and the people I did tell it was

hard to even be excited when I told them.  I was very guarded, but I tried to be as optimistic

as I could.  Then the very thing I was fearing happened, I noticed some blood.  The exact
same thing happened as the first time.  

The spotting started, I went for bloodwork, and it was confirmed it was a second early

miscarriage.  I could hardly believe it.  Two in a row?  What was going on?  Why was this

happening?  I talked to my doctor and the only answer she could give me was that it was

just bad luck.  She said there was most likely something wrong chromosomally...in other

 words, it was simply two bad eggs in a row.  As I did last time, I reminded myself this was a

good thing it happened earlier rather than later, and tried to remember that things happen

for a reason.  We would have a baby when the time was right.

The very next month I was pregnant again.  I took the test when we were at my mom's in WI

and it was a very strong line, much stronger than the last two.  I took that as a good sign

and was trying to feel positive about things.  Since I was home I told my mom, dad and
sisters, but didn't say a word to anyone else.  I wanted to wait until I could be excited about

my news before I shared it with other people.  I passed the first week and there was no

spotting.  This was a good sign.  I started feeling tired, nauseous, and crabby.  All things that

were helping me be more positive.  I counted down the days until my first doctor's

appointment and prayed I would make it that far without any bleeding.

At the 7.5 week mark, the appointment came and my doctor did an ultrasound.  I saw a

heartbeat.  Things were actually going ok!  The doctor mentioned the baby was measuring

about a week smaller, but since my technical last period was a miscarriage that could

account for the discrepancy in the timing.  She wanted to see me in a week to measure

again and confirm the due date.  I was so happy after seeing the heartbeat, but a part of me

was nervous. I remember how strong that line on my pregnancy test was.  Would it really

have been that strong if (based on this new timing) it was supposedly a week before I was
actually supposed to get my period?  Or w as there some reason that the baby wasn't
growing as much as it should be?  I figured I was being nervous like I always was and tried
to stay as positive as I could and push those negative thoughts away.

My next appointment could not come soon enough.  I wanted to see that heartbeat again

and confirm things were OK.  My doctor got called away so she wasn't there initially when I

went back to the room.  A physician's assistant came in to do the ultrasound.  As she looked

for the baby on the screen I could tell something was wrong.  She said the baby was
measuring just a few days bigger than last time.  She mentioned Dr. Bonner was back in the
office now so she was going to talk to her and have her come back in to see if she saw the

same thing.  Dr. Bonner came in and her face said it all.  She did an ultrasound and told me

not only was the baby not measuring much bigger, but there was no heartbeat.  

I immediately started crying.  I was devastated.  I had been trying so hard to be positive this

time around and was actually feeling good about things, and then this.  Thank goodness

Ryan was waiting outside the doctor's office when I came out because I was a mess.  I was

so sad.  I felt like I was in a twilight zone.  Things just didn't seem right anymore.

I went home and went through a range of emotions the next few days.  I was sad, then mad,

then frustrated, then sad again.  It was an emotional roller coaster ride and I wanted to get

off.  They called to schedule my D&C for Thursday.  Because this was my third miscarriage

in a row, Dr. Bonner preferred to do a D&C over letting me pass the pregnancy on my own.

This way she could send the tissue to be analyzed and hopefully get some answers

as to what is going on.  

One of two things could happen, the chromosomes could come back abnormal which

means there was a reason for the miscarriage.  Things weren't right with the growing baby,

so it terminated on it's own.  The other option is the chromosomes come back normal, which

means they have absolutely no idea what is causing the miscarriages.  If that ends up being

the case she will refer me to a doctor she knows of that specializes in recurrent

miscarriages.  The preferable option at this point is the chromosomes come back abnormal

and we keep trying for a good, viable pregnancy.

The day of the surgery I was pretty nervous.  I didn't know what to expect.  Aside from my

wisdom teeth, I had never had any surgery before.  We got to the hospital one hour before

the surgery began.  I got changed into a hospital gown, some nice cozy socks and

answered questions as a flurry of nurses came into my room.  I found out that I was actually

going to be partially awake during the surgery which surprisingly made Ryan and I feel a

little better.  I don't really like the idea of being put under.  I was going to be awake enough

that I could see and hear what was going on, but I wouldn't feel anything.  The nurse that

was going to be administering the anesthesia drugs equated it to a really good buzz.

She was right.  I was wheeled into the operating room in a wheelchair, completely awake.

I got up on the bed, laid back and they covered me with some nice warm blankets.  I heard

the doctor's and nurses introduce themselves and then the nurse told me she would be

putting the drugs in my IV.  She said it would feel cold and take about 10 seconds to kick in.

I looked at the ceiling and started counting.  At about 8 seconds everything seemed to slow

down.  I could hear people talking, but I can't remember what they said.  In fact, even

though I was awake, I barely remember what went on in that room.

The surgery itself took only about 5 minutes and then I was wheeled back into my room.

That's when I realized the anesthesia nurse neglected to give me some very important info.

She talked about the great buzz I would be getting, but failed to tell me about the horrific

hangover I would experience afterwards.  I sat in my recovery room with my head spinning.

I didn't want to eat, didn't want to drink, didn't want to move a muscle.  Any time I moved I

thought I would be sick.  Supposedly the drugs have a bigger effect on people with motion

sickness.  Lucky me.  After a little over an hour we decided we might as well go home

because it was going to take the drugs time to wear off no matter where I was.  

Ryan went down to get the car and a nurse wheeled me down in the wheelchair.  Knowing

how nauseous I was, they gave me a barf bag for the ride down.  Thank goodness, because

after 3 stops on the elevator ride down I had enough.  As he wheeled me through the giant

lobby of Prentice hospital I quietly, and as inconspicuously as possible, threw up into my

bright blue barf bag.   I was embarrassed, but at that point I couldn't care less.

All I wanted to do was get home and lay in bed.

I felt terrible.  I didn't get out of bed the entire rest of the day.  I tried to sleep, but even when

I couldn't sleep I laid still.  Every time I stood up my head pounded and I felt dizzy.  Nothing

from the surgery itself hurt, it was these awful drugs that were doing a number on me.

Thankfully Tim and Val asked to take the kids for dinner to give me some time to relax.

There was nothing that would have been more helpful at that time and I can't thank them

enough.  Ryan and I laid in bed, watched tv and ate popcorn.  It was just what I needed.

Today I am feeling much better.  Still a little nauseous here and there, pretty worn out, but in

a much better place than I was yesterday.  The emotional roller coaster has stopped and I

decided I'm over it.  I can't change it, there is nothing I can do about it and I just want to

move on.  Dwelling on it and feeling sad is only going to make me feel worse.  All I can do is

look forward and know that when the time is right, and if we are so lucky, we will have

another baby.  We'll see how the tests come back and where we go from here, but for now

I'm going to enjoy our family and be thankful we have two awesome healthy little boys.

I also have some awesome friends and family to be thankful for.  They certainly know how to

cheer me up and take care of me.  From Tim and Val watching the kids, the Peros bringing

us dinner tonight, the Elseners dropping off a plant, the Hellebrands sending treats, and my

family sending me the cutest flower bouquet and my favorite bundt cakes,

I felt very loved today.  We have a lot to be thankful for.