Let me say it: 2014 has been kind of a jerk (and yes, that is an edit of the original word I chose).
IN SHORT: Last year, after having no luck in the fertility department, I began to search for WHY. Turned out I had a benign pituitary tumor that was causing a whole lot of hormone imbalances. When my husband returned home from Afghanistan we found out we were pregnant! JUST like that! We rang in the new year with our eyes glossed over, happy as can be, things were starting to work out the way we wanted them to. But then I miscarried a little over a week into the new year. We’ve been going to counseling, we’ve been trying to look to happiness, we’ve been trying to not let it get us down.
When it came time to try again, I was not entirely confident I was ready. Although the truth is that we both want a family and we are not getting any younger. When we got a positive reading on an at home pregnancy test on Mother’s Day, I could not help but feel like it was a sign. We were going to have our rainbow baby! (Side note: Rainbow baby is a term used for a baby that is born after miscarriage. Like in the real world, a rainbow follows a storm: a symbol of hope.)
This time around we kept the news to ourselves. We wanted to know what was going on, what we needed to do, and what we were to expect before letting the outside world in on it. As soon as the OBGYN office was open that Monday morning, I was on the phone trying to get in to see someone. Turns out that whether you are high risk or not, the head of the clinic does not give a damn. After many calls, many tears, many reminders that it is their job to take care of my baby and to give it the best chance at life, and not to mention the previous doctor I had seen there (who has since left, go figure) said there were several steps that needed to be taken once I became pregnant again, they agreed to see me at what we thought might be my sixth week (the following week). They also put me on a progesterone supplement (the hormone that dropped significantly before my last miscarriage). We crossed our fingers and toes and tried to relax.
The next Tuesday I started noticing symptoms that had occurred towards the beginning of my last miscarriage. Five attempts at drawing my blood, two IVs of fluid, an inconclusive ultrasound and pelvic examine, and six hours later, we left the ER knowing just about as much as we did going in. The symptoms I had correlated with side effects of the hormone supplement, so we tried to think positive. The following Thursday, an hour before my OBGYN appointment, it became evident that I was having another miscarriage.
Turns out my replacement doctor is quite the compassionate guy. He did what he could, which wasn’t much, but he was able to make us laugh. He did raise the concern that my pregnancy could be ectopic (a pregnancy that forms outside the uterus that if it continued to grow – could cause a slew of other problems). I’m still not sure how we’re feeling about that matter, really, but my pregnancy hormones began to drop and have done so significantly since.
Here I am. Again.
I am a mother to two baby angels. My children were born with wings.
Que sera, sera. Maybe we’ll have rainbows one day, but the future’s not ours to see.
After the last miscarriage, I know who will be there for us and who won’t. I’m thankful for the internet because I’ve spoken with so many lovely people who know exactly what it’s like – and without them, this would have been so incredibly difficult.
It’s devastating. We’ve been here before. I’ve had all this happen to me, taken all the same pain killers, and had all the emotions that those pills cannot dull. Part of me says it was not as bad this time around, but I know that probably has a lot to do with the fact that I’m used to the lingering emotional pain.
Think what you will, but miscarriage is not something you get over. It’s not a pain that just goes away with time. It’s a scar left on me, two times over now, that will be with me forever. Those were our babies, and we will never get to hold them, kiss them, watch them grow and have families of their own. No, that’s not something you just get over. Miscarriage is a pain that you get used to.
I lazily posted on Facebook that we had two angels watching over us now. There’s so much happiness and things to celebrate back home in California that I hate to even attempt to distract away from it. Although, friends and family, if you’re reading this, we could use a little “thinking of you” our way. Kansas feels that much further from home these days.
I’m so jealous of the women who get to start sentences off with “When my baby is born-” because I will never have that comfort. If I ever have a baby. It will always be “If my baby is born.”
We will not be defeated, not yet. We will try again. We will be making our way out to Kansas City again to see the endocrine and fertility specialist soon.
Keep your fingers crossed for us please. We could use all the good juju, baby dust, hopes, wishes, prayers, all of that. ♥
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