If you have been wondering where I have been, here is a little update. A little warning, this post discusses pregnancy loss. So for anyone who is struggling, please proceed with caution.
I was pregnant. Key word: WAS. This is almost a little too fresh for me to be quite ready to talk about, but if I can reach just one girl who is going through the same experience, it will have been worth it.
We have been trying to get pregnant since June 2018. When we first made the decision to go off birth control and start trying I had jokingly said to Bobby “I hope you’re ready, because the second we go off the pill, we will be pregnant.” Then a month went by, two, three…and we weren’t getting pregnant. I wasn’t prepared. You see, we got pregnant with Lincoln when we were actively trying NOT to get pregnant (thank you, God, for that miracle). I had figured that it would be much of the same. That we would be pregnant in no time, but it wasn’t happening. After six months, I made an appointment with my OB to talk with her about some other symptoms I was having. Since I had gone off my birth control, my hair had been falling out in droves. Not in chunks and I wasn’t having any bald spots, but I was losing a considerable amount of hair during my shower and when brushing. Very similar to when I lost my hair postpartum. We saw her in the end of November. She ran a a few general labs and checked a couple hormone levels and everything was normal. Nothing was “wrong.” This was a good sign! However, I was still just overall kind of sad that we weren’t getting pregnant. She discussed what the process was to move forward with checking for infertility and it legitimately scared the crap out of me. She gave me the option to wait another 6 months to see if we could get pregnant in that time. I walked out of that appointment feeling somewhat defeated. I am a fixer. If something is wrong, I want it fixed stat. And I felt like something was wrong with me. However, it is completely normal for it to take 6 months to a year for a couple to get pregnant.
I was completely in the mentality that we were not going to be getting pregnant any time soon. So, when I woke up one morning with my boobs super sore, I just thought I was going to be getting my period soon. On December 16th, I decided to take a pregnancy test just to check. I pee’d on the stick and didn’t get an instant positive (like I had when I was pregnant with Lincoln) so I set it on the counter and hopped in the shower with the “knowing” I wasn’t pregnant again this month. I got out of the shower and went to toss the test in the trash when I noticed a faint second line. As in, I was squinting REAL hard to see it. “My mind is now playing tricks on me” I thought. So, I snapped a picture of it and sent it to a girlfriend to see if she could see it. “YOU’RE PREGNANT!” was her response. I was shaking. There was no way. I wasn’t convinced. There was a part of me that wanted to wait until I got a raging positive to tell Bobby, but I am the WORST at keeping secrets from him. I legitimately can’t. He was over the moon. I was over the moon. FINALLY!
Do you ever get that “feeling?” That feeling that something just isn’t right? That’s how I was feeling. Literally from that first super faint positive until the end. I took a pregnancy test every. single. day. for the next week. And they weren’t getting brighter. They were all still very faint. Then…a week after my first positive, I started spotting. The next day, it was more than spotting and I had cramping. It just didn’t feel right. Bobby was out of town and I told him what was going on. He did his best to say that spotting in pregnancy can be totally normal and to just not think about it. Not think about it?!? That’s all I could think about. So, I reached out to a friend who is a doctor in the ER to ask if I could sneak in the back and have him do a quick ultrasound. He agreed. I went in and he put the ultrasound on while he explained that it’s very likely that he won’t see anything because it’s so early in pregnancy. He was right. He couldn’t see anything in the uterus…but he saw something else. He saw something on my right fallopian tube, but he couldn’t confirm if it was a cyst or ectopic, so he asked me to go get checked in so that I could go down for a formal ultrasound. Again, I was told that it’s likely too early to see anything and I needed to wait for the radiologist to take a look…and he saw a fetal sac! My HCG levels were low, indicating that I may be earlier in pregnancy than I thought, but the “thing” on my fallopian tube was just a corpus luteum (a structure that shows up after ovulation but will dissolve on it’s own). So, I did what I was told and followed up with my OB. They drew my blood every other day to keep an eye on my HCG levels and they looked good! (my arms, however, did not look so good) Maybe I was in fact pregnant despite my nagging feeling that something wasn’t right.
Then, on New Years Eve day, I woke up to some mild cramping again and bleeding. I called my doctor to just let them know that the bleeding had started again and they sent me in for a stat ultrasound. We had to wait at the doctors office to get our results from the radiologist instead of going home to wait. I went to the bathroom and as I walked back to the waiting area at the office the clerk says “Chelsea, the doctor is on the phone for you.” My heart sank. I know enough to know that the ultrasound tech is able to give you good news, but the doctor has to deliver bad news. Sure enough, she says that they no longer saw a fetal sac and it looked like I was in fact having a miscarriage. She wanted me to continue to get my blood drawn to monitor the levels. I made it back to Bobby in the back of the waiting room before I broke down. I just nodded my head, because he knew. We walked out of the office to go get my blood drawn and went home. There was a part of me that was relieved that I finally had an answer. And of course that was the part of me that was mourning the loss. We went out that night to celebrate NYE and I guiltily drank my glass of wine.
The next morning it began. Cramping got pretty bad and I started bleeding a lot. Thankfully, Bobby had the day off and I was able to stay in bed for the day. That evening I passed the sac. Again, a wave of emotions. Relief that I felt like my body was doing what was needed and that this roller coaster ride was over, and of course sadness. The next day I called the doctor again to let them know that I was done bleeding and no longer cramping and they said that since I had passed everything that I could wait a week before getting my next blood draw. I was relieved that I didn’t have to get my bruised arms poked again.
Fast forward to January 8th. The night before I had had a little bit of spotting, but just attributed it to the miscarriage. Same thing that morning. A little spotting. I got up that morning and got ready to take Lincoln to gymnastics. Bobby was just coming home from work (night shift) and getting ready to go to bed as I was coming downstairs to get shoes on and head out the door. I bent to put on my shoes and holy moly. It was one of the worst cramping pains I have felt. The only other time I have been in that kind of pain was during labor with Lincoln. I tried to fight through the pain, but I couldn’t stand up straight. Bobby could tell something was going on (I am the type that is pretty silent when I am in pain). He asked if we should go to the ER and I said told him no. To just give me a minute and it will pass. It wasn’t I wound up on the floor of the bathroom when Bobby told me that he was taking me to the ER. We rushed to get in the car and I vomited on the way from the pain. It was not letting up. We got to the ER and immediately put an ultrasound to my belly where they saw free fluid. A sure sign of a ruptured ectopic. I was bleeding internally and in so. much. pain. I was rushed into surgery where I lost 2 liters of blood and my right fallopian tube…and our baby. Going into surgery, and even coming out, I was in so much pain that I couldn’t wrap my head around the gravity of it all. I’m not even sure that I have yet. We lost our baby so that I could live.
I’m a pretty realistic person. I recognize that there is nothing that could have been done. That that tiny little baby inside me would not have survived. I want to take comfort in that, but it does little for me. I lost my baby. During a pregnancy loss, no matter how far along, there is no wrong way to feel. I would say that I am likely in the middle of road in aspect to the way I feel. I have my moments where I break down and wonder how in the heck did this happen? Will I be able to get pregnant again? Will this happen again? And at this point, the thought of getting pregnant again is terrifying. I couldn’t be more thankful to have the amazing support system that I have around me. Family, friends and of course my little man have really stepped up to lift me up. I am still working through all of this and I am sure it’s going to take a lot of time. I definitely recognize and am so grateful to be alive. I know that someone up above was watching out for me when all this went down. Lord knows that if Bobby hadn’t been home, I likely would have gone and laid down in bed and unknowingly bled out. The timing of it all was definitely in the works from up above.
If you have been here before, bless you. This is not an easy feat. If it’s something you’re going through right now, please CLICK HERE. I have found so many answers to my questions here. And most of all, talk. When you’re ready, talk to someone about your experience, about how you’re feeling. Your feelings aren’t wrong no matter what you’re feeling.