My Miscarriage Story

I write this because it serves as a record for me, and also because it might help someone who has to go through the same thing. It really helped me on the day I found out, to read my friend's blog about her feelings and experience, and to know that I wasn't alone. I was really grateful she wrote about it and that I was able to read it, so perhaps this will be beneficial to someone else.

I never told anyone I was pregnant, because I wanted to wait until I was at least 2 months. We tried to get pregnant for a few months, had already been on Aflac for awhile, and I was aiming for the window where Cami and the baby would be about 2 years apart. That time kind of came and went. Finally, on September 24, after waiting anxiously all month to find out if I was pregnant, I took a test early in the morning. I had dreamt about it all night long, and had dreamt of 2 positive pregnancy tests. Each time, I thought it was real and then I would wake up and remember I had to actually still go find out. When I did get up and a beautiful plus sign appeared, I was so excited and went back to bed and waited for Jake to wake up and see the test on the back of the toilet. :)

A few weeks later, however, I started spotting and cramping. I knew it was not a good sign, and thought the pregnancy was in the process of ending. I called my doctor and he told me to go in and take a blood test to see how high the pregnancy levels were a couple days apart from each other. I took the test on Friday, and then before I went in on Monday, I got a call from the nurse saying that my levels were high enough that I could go ahead and get an ultrasound. I set one up for that week, but after talking to Jake we decided that it wasn't urgent because my spotting had stopped. So I cancelled the ultrasound, and the nurse said that was fine and we could play it by ear, no problem. When the spotting reappeared the next day, the ultrasound was rescheduled. Talk about a roller coaster.

We went in on Thursday, October 14 for the first ultrasound, and saw a sac in the uterus which I was relieved about. I had had a dull ache in my right side for about a week, and was afraid it was an ectopic pregnancy (in the tubes). They couldn't really make out much of the baby, however, so the doctor said he was on the fence. It could go either way, and we would have to wait and see. A week of waiting, wondering whether it's a "viable" pregnancy and having to schedule another "viability ultrasound" for the following week is not all that great.

Meanwhile, the spotting and cramping stopped, leaving me hopeful. The next Friday, the 22nd, we went in again (leaving Cami with friends and family each week, telling them I had a dentist appointment). This time, the baby was spotted and there was a little flickering heartbeat. But the baby was measuring smaller than 8 weeks along at this point, and the heartbeat was slow, about the rate of an adult even though it's supposed to be twice as fast. The doctor talked to us and said he's seen babies with slow heart rates that have been born and grown out of it by the time they're 5, and gone on to be healthy adults. He said even though the baby wasn't thriving, it could still go either way and things could change. I was so frustrated at this point, because I felt like "well if the baby inside me is barely living and not thriving in my body, why put it through months of this and possibly a lifetime of problems?" Wrong, obviously. But these are the conflicted feelings I had. I just hated going week to week, wondering and not being allowed to be excited about my pregnancy.

I would see big bellied pregnant women and long to be in their shoes. I was afraid I was failing this poor little baby and doing something wrong to cause it not to thrive. Jake and I had talked about when we would announce to our family that I was pregnant, and we had all the dates and how we would do it planned out. Yet, as these few weeks went on, we became less sure. I didn't have much morning sickness, and would ask myself throughout the day "Is this nausea?" "Am I just lucky this time around?" "Well I'm sure this is fatigue and other pregnancy symptoms that I'm experiencing right now..." But never felt quite convinced. At one point, Jake asked me "Where's your faith?" And I honestly didn't know. I realized I had not practiced much faith up to this point, in actually PRAYing and WILLing this baby inside me to grow out of this phase and go on to be healthy. He had confidence that it would. On Thursday that week, Jake fasted and gave me a blessing. We had hope.

On Friday, October 29th, we went in for our 3rd viability ultrasound. (Let me tell you, I do not like these ultrasound preparations because you have to drink 32 oz. of liquid beforehand so that your bladder is full. So each week, I would stress and guzzle down water as fast as my handicapped throat would allow, since I have swallowing issues, and hope that it would be enough. And then you have to pee so bad by the time you get there and they start pressing on your belly, but it's all for a good cause. For sure). So at 9:00 am Jake and I went in and looked at the picture on the screen. We saw the sac, the ovaries, and a teeny tiny little bean of a baby. But no heartbeat. The flickering activity from last week had subsided to nothing, and the embryo had not grown at all while the sac had. It's called a blighted ovum.

On a side note, every time I get an ultrasound, I have tears come down my right cheek. That's the direction I'm looking at the screen, and I don't know if it's just the air and the gravity pushing tears out of my eye, or if it's always an emotional thing. But each week with this baby, that happened. The nice ultrasound lady said she was sorry when there was no heartbeat found, and led me to the bathroom. I had a short cry, then Jake and I went to another room to talk to my good doctor. He was sympathetic and compassionate. I wanted to hear him say this was not definite...to wait another week and see a healthy heartbeat next week. But obviously, that didn't happen. He told us what our options were for getting the baby out. Either a D&C, which he didn't recommend at this stage because it's more invasive, requires anesthesia, and costs money. Or medication which would help shed the uterus lining and get things going to pass the tissue at home, or the natural way of just waiting for the misscarriage to take its course.

My decision was slightly influenced by the fact that I had a trip to Pennsylvania planned for the following Wenesday...5 days later. I really wanted to go see my parents. So I asked the doctor about what he thought about me going. He wasn't too excited about it, and actually said it wasn't a good idea. But the fact that I would be with my parents and Cami (although away from Jake) helped. He said if I did a D&C, I wouldn't be able to go because it takes longer to recover. So we chose the medication method, using Misoprostol (Cylotec is the brand name). We really only had a minute to decide, and this being my first experience, I did what sounded the most comfortable. Taking some pills at home and passing the tissue over the weekend sounded like the way to go.

Jake had to go back to work after the doctor, so I set off to get my prescription and go home and get started on the meds. It sucked, leaving the doctor and going to the grocery store and appearing to the world as if nothing had happened. Can I just say at this point how grateful I am to have little Cambria. Being able to go pick her up and hug her and hold her made things a little easier. She is truly my little sunshine. That being said, once we got home and I put her down for her nap, the time came for me to take those 4 tiny pills, and it was SO difficult. I read over the medication info, and it referred to the pills as the "abortion pill". Never ever do I want to have that word in my mind, especially at this time when this was something I had to do. I just hated the thought of having to be the one to completely end my own pregnancy, even if the little baby was already not living. I needed someone to talk me through it, and called Jake in tears. He stayed on the phone while I finally swallowed the pills and reminded me that it was what had to be done. The pills kicked in like 20 minutes later, when I suddenly started shivering and couldn't stop. I laid on the couch with a sweatshirt and 2 blankets and shivered for awhile. Bree, my dear sister, came over at that time because she had left work early and wanted to come say hi. What a welcome blessing she was, and she didn't even know it yet! I told her everything that was going on, and cried with her and let out all my pent up emotions. She was the first to hear the news, and probably now knows a whole lot more about pregnancy and miscarriage than she ever wanted to know.

Anyways, the rest of the weekend was pretty hard. I took 8 pills all together on Friday, and they caused me to bleed but not enough to pass the tissue. I took another round of 8 pills on Saturday, because my doctor told me to repeat the process. I thought I passed the tissue on Saturday night, and was relieved that it was "over". Yet on Monday, when I took what I had collected into the doctor, he looked at it and said I had not passed the tissue yet. I thought, "Nooooo you've got to be joking. After all that???" Luckily, he checked me and was able to pull it out himself, and said I wouldn't need a D&C or anything. BUT he did say I needed to take 4 more of those wretched pills to get the rest of the bleeding done. Ugghhh make it stop. Thankfully, within a day or two it was over, and I was in recovery, both physically and emotionally.

So if I were able to rewind time and do this over again (heaven forbid), I would have chosen the D&C. It would have been so much faster and easier on me I think. My experience was long, drawn out, stressful and uncertain. But I'm just glad it's over. And I can move on. I'm so thankful that I chose to not go through it alone, like I thought I would at first. The help and prayers and love of family and a few friends made it easier to bear. And now I've grown....and learned....and have been through something that I never thought I would have to. But I'm grateful, that I'm better prepared to comfort those who have been and will go through the same thing. I'm grateful that my body knew what to do, and that I further understand that things are in God's hands. I'm grateful that I know the plan of our Heavenly Father and that HE knows what He's doing, who I am, what I'm going through, and what life holds for me. And I'm thankful for the knowledge that families are forever and that we will be together again.