Motherhood Won and Lost: One Woman's Story Of Miscarriage

At 27, getting pregnant was hard, but staying pregnant was easy. It took 17 months before I got a positive pregnancy test, but from that time on the baby developed perfectly on schedule and arrived one day before the due date. Seven years on, the child is happy and healthy. This is the motherhood story we like to hear and which is told millions of times over by delighted parents.

At 34, getting pregnant was easy, but staying pregnant was hard. We got pregnant the very first month off of birth control, but staying pregnant was… unsuccessful. At my first ultrasound, at 8 weeks, there was an embryo with no heartbeat. This is the motherhood story that we don’t often hear or tell, but happens with approximately 30% of all pregnancies. This is the story that I want to tell, because reading the few stories I could find was a key source of information and solace for me as I responded to the shock of the terrible ultrasound.

As a busy pre-tenure woman, I was thrilled when I got the positive pregnancy test 32 days after the start of my last period. The due date was near the beginning of spring semester, so I would be able to take almost 8 months “off” before resuming teaching. And I wouldn’t have to face months of crushing disappointment of my period arriving unwanted, signaling my failure to procreate. This was off to an insanely good start. But it also felt too good to be true, and, truthfully, a little surreal. It happened so quickly that I hadn’t quite wrapped my head around the possibility of my life changing dramatically in nine months.

Within days of the pregnancy test, I had the classic early pregnancy symptoms, sore breasts, a pulling, stretching feeling at the base of my belly, an aversion to my favorite tea, and the fatigue. Oh the fatigue. I remembered that one from the first time around, and I pulled out my old pregnancy journal to see when it peaked and how long it lasted. I was glad I didn’t feel really any nausea, just as I didn’t with my first pregnancy.

I called and scheduled an appointment with the local ob/gyn practice, something with a midwife in week 7. My husband and I started to toss around names. It started to seem a bit more…likely, but that surreal quality never really dissipated. And I never felt at ease about this thing growing in my abdomen. In the seven years since my first pregnancy, I’d heard a few stories, read some things on the Internet, and grown a lot more circumspect about the possible ways a pregnancy can go. My 27-year-old self seemed naïve to have told family at 6 weeks and my boss only a few hours after the first ultrasound. I was waiting on that first doctor appointment, when I would get to hear the heartbeat on the ultrasound. Then, I told myself, I would feel better and it would seem really real.