That’s how I’m feeling at this point. Three strikes…. I’m out. A reality I was not really ready for, yet… ready for. If that can possibly make any sense. So the story starts last fall. We so elated to have found out we were pregnant. It was about week 5 when I took a home test, and just because I am me and like to double check everything, I opted to take another test a week later. The second was negative…. that quickly. A reality we were shocked by because well…. It had never happened to me before. Four amazing, beautiful, quite healthy pregnancies… never had we experience a ‘glitch’ quite like this one. After speaking to a few friends, I had gathered this was what was medically called a “chemical pregnancy.” Something not even really recognized by medical professionals as a miscarriage. A pregnancy that never really existed? Is there really such a thing?
I, for one, knew I was quite pregnant. A woman knows long before she is given conclusive scientific evidence that she is pregnant. Whether she is open to accepting and owning of the knowledge her body is lending her is one thing, but the signs are there long before she knows for proven fact. I knew I was pregnant. We were elated, and crushed all in the matter of a single week. It was hard to take.
After some healing and sole-searching we opted to try again. We were pregnant in January 2013. A little birthday present for me ; ) We waited a little longer this time and even took a few pregnancy tests at home. I went for a check-up with an OB and all looked great…. Till later that same afternoon when I received a call from her saying that my blood work came back telling her that my hCG level was significantly low for how far along my dates would otherwise suggest I should at that point. We had an ultrasound scheduled already for later that week so she said to go ahead and do the ultrasound, and then repeat the blood work afterwards. Well….. we went to the ultrasound at the point at which I should have been about 7-8 weeks along. Our little wee-one was visible with no heartbeat. When the technician measured, the outcome suggested he or she stopped developing at about 4.5 weeks. We were devastated. We repeated the blood work to be sure what we saw via ultrasound was really so, and unfortunately it had dropped drastically. I miscarried by that very next weekend. (That whole story can be read here.)
That was in an incredible process to go through. I was devastated and mad. We all were really. SBJ and the kids and I all equally took this very hard and it took much healing process and gumption to try again….. but alas we did. We found out we were pregnant August 4th. Yippee!!! This time I felt certain that all was well. Things were feeling wonderful….. wonderfully pregnant. No signs or symptoms I had had previously (with the miscarriage). I waited a bit longer this time to go in for a check –up. I needed to love and dote on this notion of being pregnant and I was feeling so good that I really did not want too much medical intervention as it was. This time around, I went straight to my midwife and she issued an ultrasound prior to our first check-up. At our US appointment, September 3rd, we should have been about 8-9 weeks along. The ultrasound tech was the same we had previously with the miscarriage in March. She remembered us, but could not remember what happened the last time we were there. It was quite insulting, the mannerism in which she treated us. She glanced around and came to the conclusion that we had a 7.5 week gestational sac… that was empty. No fetal pole. I was in disbelief. This was not news I was willing to take lightly. I did not feel she was trying very hard and really did not appreciate much of how she handled us, the news, the diagnosis, etc. I received a call from my midwife suggesting the same….. we would miscarry.
Well, after I had given it all a ton of thought and lots of research I found by medical standards, this diagnosis is called a “blighted ovum.” I read dozens and dozens of different scenarios, from that which women were convinced to have a D&C and the Dr. ended up yanking out a perfectly healthy heart-beating fetus, to those who chose to miscarry naturally at home and carried a full-term healthy baby. I, at this point, feeling as healthy and pregnant as I am/was, choose that we needed to do some more fishing around. I reached out to my midwife and asked if we could to an hCG test series to see if it was indeed going up or down. And depending on that, we would see what to do next.
Well, last week we did that series and our first read was at 53-thousand something, and our second read was at 50-thousand something. A drop, but not significant enough to declare miscarriage. It could have just meant that we were 10-11 weeks (as per the calendar) and hCG drops naturally by this point. Or…. well yes, it could mean that my body was just reacting quite slowly to a blighted ovum. Either way, this mode of diagnosis had not really clarified anything just yet.
We went in for our 2nd ultrasound today. I choose a much better facility that I felt was designated and trusted in maternal and fetal health. She did a very thorough search…. I felt. This time, much pressure was given, lots of search and investigating and we saw a deflating gestational sac. We were looking at our original diagnosis, but this time…. somehow… more acceptable. We have given all that we can give to scientifically “prove” what I have been feeling. I still feel it even though we are at the same point we were in the first place. I feel healthfully pregnant, and I my mind has been told that I am not. My body would like to suggest differently. This time, the diagnosis feels like a reality to brace for. We had done the science to attempt to figure it all out, and for some reason, the universe has really wanted me to experience this experience. It is really quite hard to accept and grapple when you feel the way your body is telling you to feel. When the reality hits in scientific format (in repeated formats), it makes it no easier to accept if your body is clearly functioning and telling you something quite contrary.
And all that being said, I feel at peace. I feel I’ve listened soundly to my body and entrusted its process. I have never quavered from my sole feelings, even when I had been told (several times) to, “not to hold out hope.” I was enraged and angered to hear these words repeatedly. I don’t quite understand how people can say this to someone when hope is all they really have at this point? Hope , love, gratitude, abundance….. it is all that brings us to where we are in our lives. Without hope I would be mourning….. for months at this point! And without hope, this process would be even harder to accept and get through. And as I come to accept the reality to come, I am saddened… and peaceful. It is complicated to live in a limbo. To want to share this people but not really have anything to share. To be excited about something that just may not ‘be.’ And to constantly question and wonder what it is your body is trying to teach you. Clearly this experience has happened for a reason. Empowerment? Character building? What is my mission or lesson to take from this? I shall soon completely understand I am sure.
Till then, I await and attempt to grapple the reality to come. I digest and regroup. I hug my amazing hubby and we whisper in each others’ ears….. “we are so blessed.” My life is truly abundant.