It's funny how much things can change or stay the same in one year! Last year about this time, since I am such an avid blogger (ha! I blog in my head. I just don't always have time to get it HERE!) I was writing about celebrating CHD awareness. Well tomorrow we are celebrating Raileigh's heart spreading awareness and collecting items or money for It's My Heart. That part is the same!
But if last year you would have told me that in a year you would have a miscarriage, I probably would have not believed you. That's how much has changed in a year. I went from a female with zero miscarriages to a female with one. I became a statistic. My doctor sees one to two miscarriages a week, I was her one or one of her two. Chances are you didn't even know I was pregnant. That's the reason most people don't tell you they are pregnant, they don't want to have to go back and say hey, I'm not pregnant anymore or I miscarried or according to my paperwork at the doctor's office, my threatened ABORTION became a complete ABORTION. I wish it had said miscarriage. I know my body aborted the baby, but it gives a very unsettling feeling reading ABORTION when you know you didn't drive to a clinic and have it, that you lost it because your body knew something was wrong with the baby. But there's light, there's an 80 percent chance I will have another successful healthy pregnancy one day.
People are so nosy. It's just in our blood to be nosy. You date someone, they want to know when you are getting married, you get married they want to know when you are having kids. You have one and they want to know when you are going to have another one. I am guilty of all of that as well, but I will say that Monday, I learned my lesson in this. Because most people don't tell they are pregnant until after 12 weeks, most people don't even realize when someone has a miscarriage unless they have told you. So my guiltiness of asking people when they are having more will hopefully not happen again because of what we experienced Monday.
Let me back up to say this: Jaunary 25, we found out we were pregnant. February 2, I went to the doctor and confirmed that we were pregnant. Our little Peanut would have been due on September 29th. We were not 'trying' to be pregnant. I had finally just given it to God. If it was meant to BE, I would get pregnant.
As many of you know, football season is not the best time to have a baby for a band director because of all the away games and the marching contests. With that being said, we were happy. What my Mom doesn't know is that I was going to kidnap her, I had said a month, but I was sure I'd grind her car keys into the pavement and hold her hostage to not let her leave. Because football season is a very busy time for my dear hubby and having an active three year old and a newborn is exhausting.
However, I never really quite felt right with this pregnancy. I can count on my hand twice where I felt nauseous. I was praying for morning sickness. Yes you read that right, I wanted to PEWK! Because with Raileigh, I had the 'perfect' pregnancy, I had awful morning sickness but it felt normal for me and honestly other than that I didn't have any issues being pregnant. It was an easy pregnancy.
By the way, if you don't like details, you might want to leave this article now because I am still hormonal (haha as if I am ever NOT) and I may just place it ALL out there.
So the spotting began. At first it was the same as with Raileigh at eight and thirteen weeks, so I was calming myself by reminding myself that I did this with Raileigh; however, I just felt different. Then the spotting started becoming pink and bright red. So February 16th, my hubby called and talked to the nurse. Yes you read that right, but I was working and keeping myself together for my kiddos so my lovely hubby called in.
They wanted to do a HCG test to check my levels all by 4:30. I told my lovely little diva that she was not going to dance because Mommy didn't feel well. Let's just say that she is very scheduled oriented and threw a whopping fit about dance so let's just say she went. She got to go because Debbie rushed to our house to get her, while Patrick rushed the kiddos to their Mom, and then came back and rushed me to the doctor because driving myself wasn't possible because of the amount of 'pressure' I felt.
The weekend was tough. The pressure became more intense. I like to think of myself as having a high pain tolerance and you will not catch me taking medication unless i just HAVE to have it. With that being said, when you are pregnant, they don't want you to take anything in the first trimester and I knew I wouldn't take anything even if the ER doctor told me I should. Stubborn much? Maybe but I still have a child to take care of. So I have the bloodwork drawn and found out on Thursday that I would know Friday. Friday my levels were 6000 something. Fast forward to Monday.
Monday at 2:00 am I woke up and felt like I was in labor. I told the hubby and went to the couch. I could feel the cramps and contractions begin and I was in a lot of pain. I had to go in at 8:00 to have my levels rechecked so I knew that I could just pass time before I saw the doctor. At 2:45, I began bleeding and passing 'tissue' and until 5 o'clock am, I was COMPLETELY MISERABLE. I didn't want to go to the ER because I didn't want them to dope me up on medication and I didn't want to possibly leave with a Staph infection. I knew in my heart it was better for me to be home. So at 7 o'clock Debbie comes to watch Raileigh and Patrick and I head to the doctor. I signed in and told the receptionist that I was in a lot of pain and needed to see the doctor. She took my co-pay so I assumed that after labwork, I would see the doctor.
I have the blood drawn and then the nurse calls me in. I of course am quite emotional and can't talk so my lovely hubby (after what felt like he was starring at me for five minutes as the nurse held her breath) told her what was going on. He starts by saying Jamie has a high pain tolerance. I know they hear this alot but I feel like I do. He told her what was going on and since the doctor was in surgery until two, she gave me the very supporting talk about how we would compare my levels and sometimes there's just blood behind the sac. I was scheduled for an ultrasound Tuesday but I knew that the pain was too much to wait until Tuesday. Not just the physical pain, but the emotional pain. So I gained control and told her that I could feel my uterus shrinking back and the toilet was full of blood and clots and I really needed to see the doctor. (See I told you it may get gross!) She told me that since doctor was in surgery until two, she would call and leave her a message and send her an e-mail. I was then sent on my way home.
I got home and sent Patrick and Debbie back to work and then within ten minutes, around 10:00 am, the nurse called to tell me that their very full ultrasound schedule had a MAGICAL SPOT and that I could be seen at 1. Okay I am normally a very positive person, but I knew that this appointment wasn't going to be a very good appointment. So at 12:00 Debbie and Patrick came back and off to the doctor we go.
I get there, have a completely full bladder and I know I will have to pee in a cup, so I have to hold it, cramps, pressure, bladder full, and contractions, I am MISERABLE, but I hold it for what seems like an eternity and they call me back. After about five minutes, they ultrasound lady calls me back.
Because I am that person, and I always like to be 'warned', I told the ultrasound lady what was going on and she said that she would go about the ultrasound a different way then. So the ultrasound starts and I can see my uterus and no baby. What seemed like an eternity, with a million different 'angles' of my insides (knowing that I was eight weeks today) she confirmed that the baby had already passed through and she went to get the doctor. So of course the waterworks turned on and my doctor comes in and I do love my doctor. She is the most gentle calming person and although she confirmed what we already knew, she told me that we would move to another room to talk. I go to the bathroom and Patrick follows me, I come out, and because Patrick is still in the bathroom, the ultrasound lady looked horrified that Patrick wasn't in the room. Maybe they see crazy situations where the husband or baby daddy run out of the room, I don't know, but mine just had to Pee. No more drama from the Flans today!
So we went in to talk to the doctor and she said that she felt like the type of miscarriage that I had was a blighted ovum which caused it to pass so quickly. My HCG levels had already dropped to 3000. She felt like my body would finish cleaning itself out so no D&C for me which is a good thing because I have really negative feelings about having one unless it is a medical emergency. I have to go back on March 5th to take a pee test to see if I am reading negative and if I am not then I have to have more bloodwork done. I go back and see her in a month to make sure everything is 'back to normal' and then she said we could start the process all over again.
I guess I am writing this blog to say life is all about choices, life is all about the way you view things. This situation royally sucks and I am not going to say that it doesn't. But Monday, I had a choice to make. I could go to bed and wallow in my self pity or I could pick myself up and be thankful for the daughter I have already been blessed with. I could live all week complaining and complaining about how no one tells you have physically painful a miscarriage is or I could just suck it up and deal with the pain and go on for my daughter. What I never thought about before was this. Having a miscarriage was very much like giving birth. It's all the same physical pain and what is obnoxious is the milk leakage because that's another reminder that there is no baby. September 29th will be a bittersweet day for sure, but I also know that something would have been wrong with the baby and I wouldn't want the baby to be born into this world suffering. I am not opposed to adopting one day. As a matter of fact, I think there are LOTS of children out there that need loving Mommies and Daddies and Sisters and Brothers to comfort them and find their forever family. Patrick and I had already discussed adopting one day no matter how many children we can have on our own because it is something that I have always wanted to do.
The blessing in this is that Raileigh didn't know nor do we want Raileigh to know. Raileigh prays every night before she goes to bed for a brother or sister. Raileigh woke up this morning talking about how she wanted a brother AND a sister which is a big deal because for a while she only wanted a SISTER because she wanted to teach them to crawl and to walk and she wanted to teach them about love and feed them and just be a big sister. That's the part that sucks in all of this. She wants it so bad. My response to her is baby girl one day God will grant you with the most wonderful sister or brother, he's saving the perfect one just for sure. Giving this situation to God is what helped pull me through this. Having faith knowing that everything happens for a reason and that I am surrounded by awesome family or friends. I don't understand why this happened, and only time will tell what our future holds. If you pray, keep us in your prayers. Miscarriages are just as tough on men as they are on women and I am blessed with a wonderful husband who I will continue my journey with to see what our future holds!