Here We Go Again

First comes love, then comes marriage, then come the babies and the miscarriage.  I'm really glad those aren't the real words to that little ditty.  That makes life sound a bit bleak.  But they are the words that make up my song.  I was incredibly excited when Harper joined our family, thrilled to find out when we were having twins, crushed when Maddox and Sampson didn't make it, and then anxious for the day I would find out we're pregnant again.

It didn't happen immediately, and that freaked me out a bit.  Harper and the twins weren't any trouble at all, and then after the 6 months after delivering the boys like my doctor had recommended waiting (even though we cheated), still nothing was happening.  A couple months after that, I went in for a sonohysterogram to see if there was any scar tissue from the delivery of the twins (I was worried the struggle to scrape the placenta out and the emergency curettage might have left some damage).  This procedure is basically an ultrasound where they fill the uterus with dye to check to see if I had scar tissue buildup that was preventing me from getting pregnant.

As soon I as walked into the office, the nurse had me take a pregnancy test first to make sure I wasn't pregnant ("Oh good, looks like you're NOT pregnant!"), and then I was led into the room.  During the procedure, the fertility specialist said everything looked good.  There was no scar tissue and he didn't see anything that looked wrong.  He gave me some fertility pamphlets and papers, and as I prepared to leave the office, he said "A lot of people get pregnant the month they have this procedure, because it kind of flushes and clears everything out, so..."  Finally, a reason to have some hope!

In a weird way, I was almost hoping that the doctor HAD found some scar tissue so that I would have some possible explanation as to why I wasn't getting pregnant yet so I could actually do something about it, but it was also reassuring that they couldn't find anything that looked to be preventing me from getting pregnant.  And I was excited that my odds were up this month and we might finally see the double lines on the stick again.  And what do you know...a few weeks later and we were prego!  Happy day!

It is a totally different experience finding out you are pregnant after you've had pregnancy loss.  You want to feel excited, but at the same time, the anxiety and nervousness seem to sweep over you, and any time that excitement creeps in, the worry overpowers it and completely squashes it.  At least that's how it was for me.   I think it's a defense mechanism.  I didn't want to have that overwhelming joy that I had when I was pregnant with the twins because I didn't want to feel the complete heartbreak if something happened again.  I needed to keep some sort of wall up this time so I would be somewhat prepared to deal with any non-welcome surprises.   It's unfortunate really, because it should be an exciting time.  I wish I had the desire to start putting the new baby's room together.  I wish I wanted to start figuring out what names I love and how it sounds with our last name.  I wish that I wanted to run into Harper's room and tell her she is going to be a big sister (I had actually bought her a shirt earlier that said "big sister" on it because I was convinced she would be able to wear it within the next year).  But I didn't.  I couldn't.  I was too scared that it would all be for nothing again.  So I decided to wait.

No 'Big Sister' shirt just yet, so the Ute jersey had to do

Not a week had gone by when I started to bleed on and off.  And it was the day my family was headed out of town for Labor Day weekend.  The timing was awful.  I called my doctor's office and the nurses had me hurry in for a Rhogam shot because of the RH factor in my blood.  After discussing my symptoms, they determined it was possible I was having a miscarriage (or I could just be spotting) but I could still go on my trip and then take another pregnancy test the day I got back to see if it still showed I was pregnant.  I tried to enjoy our vacation as best as I could with the question of my pregnancy always on my mind.  We all had a great time, but as soon as I got back, I anxiously took the test and saw 'positive' again.  I was so relieved!  I called the doctor's office again and they scheduled my first official OB appointment with my doctor for a couple weeks later.

Our ham and cheeser heading out on our trip

Again, I didn't want to get too excited, especially now that I had some doubt planted in my head.  My doctor found out that I was scheduled for the appointment and he had heard about what had happened, so he called me and told me to just sneak in and see him for a quick ultrasound before I came in for an official visit so we could take a look and just make sure everything was ok.  I was babysitting my sister-in-law's kids for 10 days at their house around this time, so I arranged to have my husband come over early in the morning to take over and I headed to the hospital where my doctor was going to meet me.  I was nervous the whole drive in.  I had butterflies (not the good kind) and my hands shook a little bit as I walked into the dark ultrasound room.

I sat staring at the monitor as my doctor moved the ultrasound wand around, and when he finally found something, I knew again that it wasn't good.  My doctor showed me where my baby was (or should have been), but he said it wasn't measuring where it should.  I was 7 weeks, but it was only measuring at 5.  He said there should have been more development at that point.  I released a huge sigh as tears once again filled my eyes as he said the words, "I don't think this one is going to work out."  My doctor put his arms around my shoulder and told me how sorry he was as I walked out into the empty halls.  He wanted me to come back for one more follow-up ultrasound a week later because he wanted to be 100% sure before we went forward with removing it from my body, which I appreciated.  I still wanted to believe that there was a tiny chance something might change in the next 7 days, but deep down I knew...I was having a miscarriage.