Long Post/Vent

It started with a pain on my left side shortly after I got a positive pregnancy test. After three miscarriages I thought: oh no, it’s ectopic. We were ordered to go to the ER and there on the ultrasound was a perfect gestational sac, right on target where it should be. So we breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t ectopic. One hurdle down.

A week and a half later I began having terrible pains in my abdomen, like someone was tearing a red hot knife through my gut, and I began to spot. I just “knew” it was over. I went to the ER again. They couldn’t see inside my womb via a trans abdominal ultrasound as I was too early still, but my HCG was looking good, really high. They sent me away with antibiotics for a bacteria found in my urine. I followed up with my doctor three days later expecting the worst and there it was on the screen: a beautiful almost 7 week old embryo with a strong beating heart. I was told all the cramping and spotting was just further implantation of the embryo. I breathed a small sigh of relief as I felt it was still far too early to relax.

I kept telling myself anything can change in a matter of seconds.

I waited patiently for my 8 week appointment. 8 weeks came and we had yet another successful ultrasound with a beating heart and growth. I was floored, and happy, but still not convinced.

Life went on for another two weeks, almost uneventful. My pregnancy symptoms raged on in unbelievable fashion. I had never had so many with any other pregnancy: morning sickness, headaches, constipation, sore breasts, insomnia, exhaustion, vivid dreams, smell aversions, diarrhea, severe acid reflux, acne, dry skin, even a visit from the ocular migraine fairy - which hadn’t visited but once my whole life five years back – was adding to the misery. The spotting and cramping persisted, though not as bad until one evening at about 1 a.m. I got up to use the bathroom and a gush of blood suddenly began pouring out of me. I thought to myself: OK, NOW this is it. At least you don’t have to worry anymore. At least it’s done and over with.

Another trip to the ER and we left with the news that our baby was a week ahead in growth – moving and kicking around like crazy – but I had acquired a sub chorionic hemorrhage. Only trace, but enough to cause more doubt and more worry. I was put on pelvic bed rest which made life even more unbearable now that intimacy between me and my husband would be on hold.

A week later we visited my new doctor and after a quick look, things had healed up nicely and we were still on track. Normal life could be resumed.

Nearly a week later into “normal life”, and I coughed…just coughed…and felt a gush. The gush turned out to be a fairly large clot. I put it in a ziplock bag and headed to the doctor’s office with James hoping they would just examine me there. I wasn’t bleeding at all it seemed. It was almost like a scab had fallen off inside me and had come out after the morning’s “activities”. We arrived at the doctor’s office and were turned away immediately, without a glance or a chance to explain. They heard “blood” and shooed us away to the ER, AGAIN.

Seven hours later the ER doctor came in with our US results. “Baby looks good, heart rate is strong, growth is on track, BUT…” If I hadn’t already expected the worst my heart might have sank just a little bit. He then went on to explain that while there was no sign of internal bleeding at all, not even inside my lady bits, the baby was sitting very low. This could be bad if the baby didn’t shift in the coming weeks. In his final report, “…spontaneous abortion is expected due to history of bleeding. Careful monitoring is advised.”

I remember thinking: why bother monitoring at all at this point if it’s all so up in the air and doomed? Why bother caring?

So, today, I am officially no longer taking my progesterone supplements. Doctor said at 13 weeks I could stop. And the funny thing is, I’m not as scared as I would have been a few weeks ago if I had stopped taking it. Not just because I’m nearly out of the 1st trimester – that doesn’t seem to matter anymore with all that’s happened and all that may still happen. But I suppose there is only so much craziness you can go through before you break and decide to throw your hands up in the air and let God or the fates decide what the future will bring.

I’m 40 years old. I’ve had four pregnancies in the last year and this one has made it the farthest. My two living children, who are 10 and 14, a boy and girl, are fantastic. I am happy, I am grateful. But through all this gratitude and craziness I’d LOVE to feel some joy. I’d love to start picking out baby clothes and buy maternity pants and start seeing a future with a little baby to hold in it at the end of this rainbow.

I see a lot of ladies in the forum that are due in April dropping out because of missed miscarriages or loss, and I feel for them. That was me two months before…and five months before that…and another two months before that. I know how crazy it feels to get that positive test and then it all goes away in a matter of days or you find after weeks of waiting to see your little one on screen for the first time but instead of joy there is emptiness because they are simply gone, never to be.

Perhaps we’re redefining normal with this pregnancy? Or maybe I’ve been worried for nothing because this pregnancy never stood a chance and is just taking it’s time reaching an end? The ER doctor literally said we have a 50/50 chance. Well…there it is.

I feel grateful, happy, sad, scared, anxious, worried, terrified, angry and numb all at the same time every day. I just want one more shot at this…that’s all. And I truly don’t know how to feel or what to feel or when to feel anything anymore.

[post edited by Glow]