The decision to have a baby is so momentous for a young couple. My
husband and I were nervous at the thought of having a baby, but we both
felt ready. I stopped taking the pill, and we were surprised to find
out I was pregnant after only one month of being off the pill. Part of
me was reluctant to start telling people so early, but excitement won
over and we began telling people right away. I took an official test at
my doctors office and confirmed that I was indeed pregnant, and I
scheduled my first OB appointment.
A week or so later while I was at work, I noticed a small amount of
blood on my underpants. I tried to remain calm, but looking back I knew
in my heart what was beginning to happen. I asked my doctor to let me
go home, where I called my doctor's office. The nurse tried to reassure
me that a little bit of spotting was no big deal, especially since I
was not experiencing any cramps or any other symptoms.
I knew better.
Within hours of that call, the cramps started and only got worse. By
that evening I was not only severely cramping, but the spotting had
turned into heavy bleeding. I knew what was happening, but I still was
hoping I was wrong so I called the advice nurse again, she made an
appointment for me to come in first thing in the morning. Then she took
a pause, and said, "I don't mean to upset you more, but you probably
are having a miscarriage. Just to be honest."
At the time, I was a
little annoyed with her lack of faith, but deep down I knew what she
was saying was the truth. In the morning an ultrasound showed nothing.
No fetus, no sac, nothing. The doctor sadly said, "Well, we can see
here that you were pregnant, but aren't now. When we asked her why, she
said that she believes most women have at least one miscarriage in
their life, whether they know it or not. It's very common, and that we
could start trying again after one menstrual cycle.
We were devastated. I stayed in bed for three days and then surfed
the net to learn all I could about miscarriages. Everyone I talked to
had stories of having "a miscarriage" and that they went on to have
healthy children. At my follow up appointment my doctor said I'd be
fine and back in there in no time. For some reason, I had a feeling a
trip wouldn't be quite so easy.
I put on a smile anyway, and after the
one menstrual cycle, we began trying again. After a couple of months,
we were pregnant again. This time we tried to tone down our hope and
joy. My doctor ordered me to come in and start tracking my betas ASAP.
This meant a trip to the lab every other day for about a week to make
sure the numbers were doubling as they should be.
We kept the news of
our pregnancy on a "need to know" basis. My boss, and our parents were
pretty much the only ones we told. To our hesitant relief, my beta
numbers were tripling, and though it was early, there had been no
spotting or cramping. I was sick, exhausted, and craving Taco Bell all
the time. These were all good signs.
Then one morning I woke up and I
felt...fine. I didn't feel sick, I wasn't tired, and I wanted nothing
to do with Taco Bell all of sudden. I knew in my heart what these
sudden changes meant, a drop in hormones. The next day I got a call
from my doctor that my betas had suddenly dropped, the day after that
the bleeding & cramping began. There were still no answers, no
reasons, just apologies.
We decided to wait a few months before trying again. Once we did try
again, we were pregnant again instantly. Again, it was very early, and
we decided not to tell ANYONE. The only person I told was my boss, and
the only reason was to explain the almost daily trips to the doctor to
monitor my betas.
This time my doctor also prescribed progesterone.
This is a daily treatment that basically helps boost those betas. It
also increases all the basic pregnancy symptoms. My betas were tripling
every other day as they should be, and my doctor had me scheduled for
an ultra sound at 9 weeks. My husband and I began growing cautiously
optimistic as the date of the ultra sound approached. We still didn't
tell anybody.
The day came and we went in with our fingers crossed. The
doctor brought us in and began the ultra sound. We could see by the
look on her face that it wasn't good. She showed us the sac, but there
was no fetus in it. We were so upset that all we wanted to do was go
home. The doctor explained that it wasn't over. I was going to have to
schedule a DNC to remove the sac. In a daze, we made the appointment
for a few days later. The day before the appointment I began to
miscarry the sac naturally, and that was the end of pregnancy number
three.
By this time I was suffering. As a woman, there are certain things
we know we can do. Having a baby is one of them. I couldn't figure out
what I was doing wrong, or why I couldn't carry a baby. It sounds
strange, but I felt the very essence of my womanhood was shattered. Our
doctor was still not ready to send us to a fertility specialist. So we
made one more stab at it.
Pregnancy number four was a repeat of the
first two. I was so angry and confused. I felt like God was punishing
me for something. I remember during that time catching Steel Magnolias
on TV. The classic scene where Sally Field loses it after the death of
her daughter caused me to cry hysterically for an hour. My doctor
finally gave us a referral to a endocrinologist. We decided to be
positive, and look at it as a battle waiting to be won.
The endocrinologist was very kind and very honest. He reassured us
that the miscarriages were not the cause of anything we were doing
wrong. He then explained that many people that experience reassuring
miscarriages go on to have healthy children, never knowing the reason
for the miscarriages. Some, on the other hand, are never able to have
children naturally, and again are never able to find a reason why. What
he could guarantee was he was going to do everything in his power to
try and find a reason why, and if a reason was found, find a way to fix
it.
He sent us both in to have our blood drawn for a number of tests. I
was also scheduled to come in for more blood tests as well as a special
type of ultra sound, on the first day of my next period. The
endocrinologist told us that it was important we used protection, so
that we wouldn't get pregnant during this time. The special ultra sound
I was scheduled for would ensure a miscarriage, if I was pregnant. So
we were careful, or so we thought.
The day I was supposed to start my period came and went. The next
day I found a pregnancy test in the bathroom and took it. When I saw
the little blue line appear I started laughing and then began crying. I
sat on the bathroom floor holding the stick, crying hopelessly. This
meant that all the testing would have to wait until after I miscarried
this pregnancy. Assuming of course that this pregnancy was going to end
like all the others. I didn't want to go through another miscarriage. I
was just starting to feel like I was getting some control back of my
body, and now everything was back in fates hands.
The endocrinologist was out of the office, so I called my regular
OB, who had me go to the lab for another round of beta tests. This is
where things got tricky. The lab still had the orders from the
endocrinologist for the extensive blood work needed to complete the
fertility testing. They also had the orders for the beta tests from my
OB. It wasn't until they began filling tube after tube with my blood,
that I asked what they were doing. I shrugged off the mistake, and
figured the endocrinologist would call me and talk to me when he
returned to the office. A couple days later he called with some news.
The endocrinologist had found a problem with my chromosomes.
Apparently I was suffering from a balanced translocation of the 3rd and
4th chromosomes. He actually laughed and said, "you're pretty lucky,
most people never get a reason for their miscarriages, but you've got
one in black & white". I began to cry on the phone. I asked him if
that meant I was never going to carry a baby. He said no, it meant I
would always have to face a game of Russian Roulette. Sometimes the
pregnancies would take, sometimes they wouldn't.
I asked if that meant
this one would take. It was only then that it became clear, the Beta and pregnancy results had only gone to my OB, the other test results
had gone to him. He apologized for the confusion. The next step was for
me to come back to his office for an ultrasound, and if it showed a
viable pregnancy, the next stop would be a genetic counselor.
A few days later we found ourselves back at the endocrinologists
office and facing another ultrasound. We waited with baited breath as
the picture became clear on the screen. The first words were from my
husband who pointed to a little movement inside something that looked
like a peanut on the screen. The doctor said, "that's your babies
heartbeat."
This was the first time we had seen a fetus on an
ultrasound, let alone a heartbeat. After we explained this to the
endocrinologist, he said "well than, we should consider that a pretty
good sign."
We now had a live fetus, a heartbeat, and I was quickly approaching
the end of my first trimester. Three milestones we had never reached in
any of our previous pregnancies. Now, because of the chromosome
disorder they had found, we were being referred to a "genetic
counselor." She explained to us about my chromosome abnormality and
that the translocation had caused each previous pregnancy to be
expelled from the body.
Now the risk we faced was that the viable
pregnancy I was now carrying could somehow have ended up with another
variation of the abnormality. My variation was balanced, meaning it had
no real impact on me physically or mentally. The risk was that I could
pass the abnormality to the baby in a different variation. Depending on
how it translated to the baby it could cause anything from mild
learning disabilities later in life to being born with severe psychical
and mental disabilities. The only way to know for sure was to have
amniocentesis performed once I reached 17 weeks.
By this time I was only just beginning to show, so we decided it
would be best to keep the news within our immediately family only,
until after the amniocentesis. The amnio was an aggravating procedure.
It's a very big needle that they put into your stomach to extract some
amniotic fluid. The doctor uses an ultrasound to avoid hitting the
baby. Though this procedure is done all the time, it can be difficult
to watch.
They told my husband he wasn't allowed to stand. When we
asked why, they said because many husbands tend to become faint while
watching this procedure. The worst part of having an amnio is that it
takes two to three weeks to get the results. Those two to three weeks
tend to feel like an eternity. We wrestled with all the horrible
possibilities. We hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst.
Finally one day, while at work, I got a call from our genetic
counselor. She was so happy for us that she was fighting back her own
tears as she told me that there everything was fine with our son. That
was how she told me the sex of the baby as well.
My husband and I were
finally able to enjoy our pregnancy like any normal couple. My
coworkers were all surprised to find out that I was not only pregnant,
but I was already halfway through my pregnancy! A simple lift of my
shirt to reveal my growing stomach was all it took to prove it to my
friends & coworkers. A few months later my 10 pound, very healthy,
very handsome boy was born.
Since then we have been pregnant again twice, one ending in another
miscarriage, one ending in the birth of my daughter. During those years
we were suffering through the miscarriages, I saw a number of friends
and acquaintances get pregnant and have children. It was very
frustrating to me, that for everyone around me motherhood came so
easily. I didn't understand why for me it was such a struggle.
Today, as my son approaches his 5th birthday, and my daughter
approaches her 3rd, I realize it's because it made me a better mother.
All the nights I spent crying and pleading with God to let me have a
baby, made all the nights I would later spend attending to late night
feedings, ear infections, nightmares, wetting the bed, all much easier
to bear.
Every rough moment I've spent as a mother has never once
compared to all the rough moments I spent struggling to become a
mother. As our children get older we'll tell them how hard we tried and
how much we wanted them. They'll always know that their mommy &
daddy prayed to God every single day for them to be born. And then one
day, they were.
Thanks so much for sharing your personal story. I'm not even the weepy type, and I was tearing up!
I am so glad it had a happy ending! I'm sure you really think about your struggles when you see your beautiful children. I also hope your story helps other moms going through something similar while trying to conceive.
Stages 
I'm sure you really think about your struggles when you see your beautiful children. I also hope your story helps other moms going through something similar while trying to conceive.
