The Beginning

This is my very first blog post. How exciting?!? I never really considered myself a "blogger", and it wasn't until recently that I have been so moved and touched by other blogs that I have read that have inspired me to write my own blog. Ultimately, this isn't for anyone else, but for me. I have so many thoughts swirling in my head most days that I thought this would be a great outlet for me to express my opinions and beliefs.

I was thinking about what would be a good start to my blog, what would I write? Well, as it turns out, I thought maybe I would share the birth story of my son, Noah.

My husband and I started trying to conceive (TTC) in September of 2008. We had always wanted kids, and we knew we were ready (I had been bitten my the baby bug big time). So, in September we had an "oops" moment, and from then on, we decided it was time to try. The beginning was so much fun and exciting, the idea of "making" a baby, sometimes just thinking about it blows my mind. So, we tried and ended up getting pregnant in December. The weird thing was that I have very regular periods each month, so when I missed it in November, I just knew that I was pregnant. However, a pregnancy test came up negative. So, I tested again the following week, negative. I ended up calling my OB, and she said it was probably "stress" from the upcoming holiday's, but I just knew it wasn't. She told me I could go get some blood work done, so I happily accepted that offer. It ended up that I went to get blood work done on Christmas Eve, December 24th 2008. Of course, this was a Wednesday, and the OB offices wouldn't reopen until that following Monday -- that was a tough few days. While we waited for news, we enjoyed the holidays with friends and family. That following week I had some time off with my husband. He is teacher, so he gets off during holidays. That Monday we were eating at Chic-Fil-A (I am sure I will mention Chic-Fil-A a lot in this blog, because my husband and I eat there quite often, and it has somehow made its way into major life events). The nurse called me, and she said, "you are sorta pregnant". Now, I consider myself fairly educated, but I didn't know how I was "sorta" pregnant. She went on to explain that my HCG was just barely detectable (but the presence of it alone meant I was pregnant), and that it was so low that pregnancy test would just barely register it. She wanted me to get more blood work done just to make sure my numbers were doubling appropriately. So, off we went from Chic-Fil-A directly to get some blood work done. We were ecstatic, and I just couldn't help but revel in the thought of a tiny seed growing inside of me.

The following day I found out, indeed my numbers had doubled! How exciting, I guess you could officially say I was "PREGNANT"!! I went in for more blood work the following week, and again my numbers looked great. I scheduled my first ultrasound and my first OB appointment, it seemed like a lifetime away though. The days passed by very slowly. During this time I was a pharmacy resident on rotation at a local children's hospital in their cardiac intensive care unit. I know, not a great place to be when you are newly pregnant. But I loved it there, loved watching the preemies and full term babies have success over their diseases. Of course, I worried, but who wouldn't? In fact, my husband had a sister who died at birth from a cardiac abnormality, so it ran in the family.

I was only a few days away from my first ultrasound when I was going to a UPS store to get fingerprinted for the children's hospital I was working at. One of the students came along with me, because she had to do the same. We walked in the cold, chilly January afternoon about 1 block. We waited in line, and talked to the people there, apparently we didn't have the right information with us. Needless to say after talking to the UPS people, calling the HR department and trying to get everything straightened out we were there for a little bit. As we were waiting there I felt a small "gush". Then I felt wetness in my pants. I felt seized, my body was numb, what just happened?!? I was scared, I thought to myself that I was imagining it, that I was just sweating because of all this nonsense to get my stupid fingerprints taken. The idea of a miscarriage swirled through my mind, but I wouldn't allow it to take hold, I told myself that it wasn't happening. As I stood there, I can't even begin to tell you the million of thoughts going through my mind (and honestly they are all kind of vague now), but I was anxious and scared. I told the person I was with that I needed to go back to the hospital. She followed along as we made the trip back. I remember making small talk with her along the way, trying to not think about how I felt "down there".

As soon as we got back, I went straight to the ladies room. There I was in hospital basement in a public ladies room staring down at my underwear. The tears came in full force, without reservation I started weeping. I felt so alone and scared. I knew in my heart that it was over. There was so much blood everywhere. I later thought about what other people must have been thinking, because I knew there were others in the bathroom. I am not sure how long I spent in the bathroom, but after a bit I managed to get my cell phone and call my husband at work. I had to talk to the secretaries, who had to call him in his room. I told him that I had a miscarriage and that I needed someone to come pick me up. (I take the train into work everyday). I put myself together, and with tear stained eyes exited the bathroom. I called my OB office, and I remember pressing "1" for emergencies. It is funny how looking back you remember odd details. In fact, every time since I have called the OB and they say press "1" for emergencies, I think back to that moment -- where I was standing, trying to avoid looking any passersby in the eyes. I talked to the receptionist and explained I think I had a miscarriage. She asked me details about what had happened and put me on the phone with a nurse.

The nurse was very sweet to me, and again asked me details. In my heart I knew it was over, but she gave me false hope (which in retrospect I wish she wouldn't have). She explained that it was too early for an ultrasound, but I should go get some blood work done. Ughh..more blood work. I cried some more, then had to go into the office to let the people I work with know that I needed to leave, it was an emergency. I can't remember if I told anyone that day that I actually had a miscarriage, I am pretty sure I said I had an emergency and that I needed to leave.

I walked up into the lobby of the hospital and waited. There were parents and lots of kids playing near by, and sat there and cried quietly to myself. I was waiting for my husband to come pick me up, but in the meantime I called my mom to let her know what was going on. She told me that she was sorry and not to worry, she said that these things happen and it will be okay. These were not the words I needed or wanted to hear, but my mom has a way of always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. I was angry with her, but still so upset that I couldn't muster up anger in my heart, so instead I cried some more.

Finally, my husband arrived. I stood up to walk outside to get into his car, and as I looked back at the bench I was sitting on I remember seeing a bit of a blood smear from my pants. I was a sad sight to behold, but he told me he loved me and let me cry in his car. The car ride was a bit long, I remember making some small talk, telling him what the nurse told me about getting blood work done. I also remember it was Inaugural day for President Obama. This was a pretty historic day, and I felt guilty for pulling my husband from his job as a history teacher to come help me. I also felt guilty that this is how that day will forever me marked in my mind (and pretty sure his as well). He offered me comfort, let me cry, listened to me, tried to offer me supportive words -- but I couldn't find comfort or solace in anything that day.

You know, it's funny, but we had just told some good friends that past weekend that we were expecting. We didn't tell everyone, and we sure as heck didn't announce it on Facebook. But we told a few select people to revel in our excitement and to pray for a healthy pregnancy. After I told my good friend, the first thing she said to me was 1 out of every 4 pregnancies ends in miscarriage. Honestly, this was the first thing that she said?!? I couldn't believe it! I just stared at her, like, why are you telling me this information? The evening went on, but I just couldn't push that out of my head. I will digress a little here for a moment. When you first find out your pregnant, you have such a feeling of sheer excitement. My husband and I couldn't wait to go buy, "What to Expect When Your Expecting". I loved reading week-by-week what was going on with that precious seed inside of me. I would often just place my hand on my belly and think about it. I also remember reading about how big my 5 week old baby was on a website, I think it was babycenter.com, and something caught my eye. It was about miscarriages. Now, I knew about miscarriages, and I knew somewhere in the back of my mind it was a possibility, but I didn't want that thought to enter my head -- yet here it was attacking me via the Internet. I didn't want to read about the possibility, let alone even think about it, I wanted to remain in my blissful bubble of pregnancy joy. Instead, curiosity got the best of me, and since I wanted to read everything, I read about the chances and when its likely to happen. Days passed, and that word, "miscarriage" kept haunting me, it would pop up in unexpected places, and I tried to ignore the fact that it followed me around like an unwanted guest. I later thought about this and wondered if somehow God was trying to warn me or prepare me somehow for what was to come. I don't know if that was it, or I was just sensitive to it, but I do think about that to this day.

The following morning, I called off of work for the rest of the week. I just couldn't bare going back to that place. I was still extremely sad, and unsure, I mean, the nurse did give me a glimmer of hope. She explained that it is very common to bleeding during early pregnancy. Needless to say I went to get more blood work done the next morning. I had to wait 24 hours for the results, I continued to bleed, however, it had turned more into brown spotting (which was supposedly good), my optimism, along with my anxiety grew. Besides getting blood work done on that day, I pretty much stayed in bed. My husband stayed home, but I couldn't be comforted. I put up a wall, I didn't let anything in or out. I cried, slept, cried some more. I started to get angry and bitter, why was this happening to me? Why did I have to wait so long? Why couldn't they just do an ultrasound and let me know for sure?

Finally, I had some results. My HCG level only went down 2 or 3 points. This was rather confusing to the nurses, she thought for sure, based on what I had told her that it should either be way lower, or if it was a viable pregnancy, be going up. So, I was at a stand still. What is it you may ask she wanted me to do? Get more blood work! Argghh...so I was off again to get my stupid arm poked. I hated it, I hated waiting, I hated the not knowing part, and at that point I was starting to hate all of those around me. I felt myself being pulled deeper and deeper into a dark place that I didn't want to be. I continued to cut off those around me that loved me. I was embarrassed that this was happening and I just didn't want to exist anymore.

After another round of blood work, in which my HCG remained fairly constant, the nurse decided to fit me in for an emergency ultrasound. I was relieved to finally know some answers. Plus, she thought that I may be having an ectopic pregnancy because my numbers weren't changing. She told me to drink about 60 oz of water and then go ahead to the hospital to get the ultrasound done. Thankfully my husband was home with me and we were able to go together. (I don't really remember the circumstances why he was home that day). So, after waiting in the waiting room (mind you with other pregnant women), I finally got my ultrasound. The tech was very sweet, she tried to look externally first, but my bladder wasn't quite full enough to get a good picture, so she did a transvaginal ultrasound. It showed nothing basically, I had a complete miscarriage. There was nothing left but some thickening of the uterine walls where my precious child used to be. The good news is that it wasn't ectopic and that I finally had closure (after 7 days of torture) to what I knew deep down in my heart was a miscarriage.

The following month was a blur. I scheduled a follow-up appointment with the OB/GYN, who basically told me these things happen and that I can try again after 2 cycles. I felt deflated, broken, and depressed. Before I got pregnant I worked really hard and had lost about 50 lbs, I worked out and felt great. After all of this happened I spun into a mini-depression. I stopped my work out routine and starting gaining weight back, making me feel even more depressed. I still cried for weeks after that. I had delete all those accounts I signed up for on the websites so they would stop sending me those emails saying how big the baby is this week, or what developmentally the baby was doing. I ended up seeking comfort and understanding from a message board on thebump.com. I found peace in having others who were going through something similar offer comfort.

Looking back, I wonder if I caused the miscarriage myself (even though I know this isn't true). My husband and I had a HUGE fight the night before, and I was loud and belligerent. I don't even know what the fight was about, probably one of my stupid idiosyncrasies that make me anal and a type A personality. But I regret that fight regardless.

The healing took a long time, and in the end we only waited 1 cycle before TTC again, it ended up taking 2 months, but I got pregnant again, and now I have a beautiful baby boy.

Wow, so that was long. And, it didn't end up being my birth story at all. I'll save that for another post.