I had the best of intentions of announcing our newest addition through one of the cute, Pinterest inspired photos I have seen out there, but I’m currently lacking in time, energy and inspiration, so this will have to do: We are having another baby! In December! Or possibly November if this one takes after his/her brother! It has been a crazy road, and I thought I would share just in case it could encourage anyone out there going through similar events, or if you are just interested in what’s been going on with us! It is a long story though, so I thought I should divide it into 2 parts-but rest assured, the new baby is healthy and very active, but more on that tomorrow….
Let’s back up: I shared here about my first pregnancy that sadly ended in miscarriage in July of 2010. Once we were through all of that, conceived Jude and delivered him, I remember so clearly thinking, “I learned a lot about the difference between what I have control of and what God has control of, it brought Dustin and I closer together, it gives me more compassion and understanding for those who have gone through a similar loss, BUT I do not want to go through that again!” Pretty obvious, I know, but after being able to deliver a full-term baby, I was just hoping beyond all hope that all future pregnancies would be just fine-that it was just a glich as my body geared up for it’s mommy years.
I was one of those crazy women who was ready to get pregnant very soon after having Jude. My feelings were that I would just as soon experience the really exhausting up all night, nursing day & day stuff all together while I was still used to it, rather than wait until I was rested up and used to sleeping all night, etc. Of course, my doctors had recommended that after a c-section I should wait an entire year to conceive, but I just honestly wasn’t that worried about it, so we didn’t do anything to prevent pregnancy. Crazy, I know, but I think after going through a miscarriage I was just so afraid to take any measures to prevent any pregnancies God would give me. But, low and behold, I had a “side-effect” from nursing for 13 months that I completely wasn’t expecting-to put it delicately-my female cycle didn’t return for an entire year, and when it finally did it was very sporadic and spread much farther apart than before I had Jude. It was a huge blessing, don’t get me wrong, but when Jude’s birthday rolled around in July, I was really beginning to feel anxious about wanting to get pregnant again, but it just wasn’t happening with my crazy cycle.
Fast forward to December 23-I finally had a positive pregnancy test, and I actually was thrilled about the timing. My sister was coming home for Christmas that day, and I couldn’t wait to share the news with her. It had taken much longer than I had hoped, but the baby would come just a month or two after Jude’s 2nd birthday, which I was happy about. Because of my history of miscarriage, my doctor’s office wanted to see me pretty early, but it ended up being close to 8 weeks (based on my cycle) that I went to the doctor for the first time. At this appointment we saw a heartbeat, however, the measurement was way off-instead of measuring 8 weeks the baby measured closer to 6 weeks. Surprisingly, my health care professional wasn’t that worried about it. After we discussed my crazy cycle, she said that it simply sounded like my dates were off, and the standard procedure is to be scheduled for a formal sonogram (which is much more precise) and adjust the due date if necessary.
I scheduled the sonogram on Martin Luther King Jr. Day because I had off school that day, and my plan was to drop Jude and day care, have the sonogram, and pick him back up to spend the day together. However, this sonogram that I had will forever be remembered by me as the hands-down worse medical procedure I have ever had. To begin with, I drank all the water they recommend you drink before such a procedure, but the sonogram technician was almost 20 minutes late in calling me back, and I was so unbelievably uncomfortable that I wasn’t sure I could walk back the hall without having an accident. I explained this to the technician but she just told me that she needed my bladder full and I would need to wait. So she started the exam externally, but after about a minute announced that I was too early for her to see anything externally and told me to go to the bathroom. Then she looked around internally for a few minutes and then told me that she didn’t like the sonogram machine in this room, and would I mind moving to another room, which we did. She then proceeded to look around internally again and then instructed me to go to the bathroom again because my bladder was full again and she couldn’t see anything. This would be the moment that the tears came. She assured me that all this didn’t mean that there was a problem, she just couldn’t get at the part she needed to see. I was not comforted, but on with the exam we went. She finally found the corner of my womb she was looking for. I asked if she could see the baby and she curtly replied that she wasn’t able to give me any details. She wouldn’t show me the screen-nothing. And then she started asking questions like, “so you said you had a miscarriage….” You don’t have to be a genius to know what was going on. So I left the office feeling utterly defeated, albeit with no clear information or diagnosis. About 20 minutes later I received a call from my doctor’s office asking me come back in right way. Thankfully because I had been through a miscarriage before they didn’t keep me very long-just reviewed my options, we decided on another D & E procedure which we scheduled for the next day, and that was that. Having been through it before at least meant that I new what to expect with the procedure and recovery, and this time around I had my sweet little boy to comfort me. The only thing to add is that I have some amazing friends and family who saw us through that time-we needed that support and you were there.
A few weeks later a had my follow-up appointment at my OB-GYN and I wasn’t dreading this appointment, in fact I remember being so encouraged at my follow-up appointment after my first miscarriage. It was a lot of “this happens to a lot of women” and “stay positive” discussion. This time was different. Having had a second miscarriage I was now in a higher risk category and instead of a “good luck & keep trying” speech we discussed possible causes, possible medications to try, and instead of trying again immediately, it was recommended that we wait 3-4 months to see if my cycle would even itself out on its own, have a full medical exam, and possibly start medication at that point if necessary. More tears. It was just so much to take in that not only had I endured miscarriage twice, but my chances were now actually higher of miscarrying again and there could actually be something wrong with me causing the miscarriages to happen. Again, so grateful for those who walked beside me during this time. I was also stressed about needing to make decisions about medication. Dustin and I just do not take a lot of medication, and I felt very unsure about it. I spent a lot of time praying during this time that God would make it very clear what I was supposed to do.
I don’t really consider myself to be that much of a rebel, but despite being told to wait a few months, we didn’t really do anything besides watch the calendar to prevent pregnancy (which if you think about it is kind of hilarious because with my crazy cycle, and I don’t know what we were basing any of this on!). My 30th birthday came and went and sometime around Easter I had three mornings in a row where I was slammed with a wave of nausea as I was trying to get Jude and I out the door in the morning. Finally on the third morning it dawned on me that maybe it was time to take a pregnancy test. Which I did on Good Friday, and for the first time since we have been married I had the first result that I thought was inconclusive (and let’s just say that I have taken a lot of pregnancy tests over the years). It was a test where one line is no pregnancy and two lines is a pregnancy. Well my result was the faintest second line you could imagine. I thought it counted, but Dustin was skeptical. So I waited until the next Monday-and there it was two clear lines, two months before we were supposed to conceive =) You would think that after having been through miscarriages that I would be nervous or anxious that I was pregnant again, but I just can’t help but be excited every time. New Life!
And so concludes Part 1, happy ending and all. Tomorrow-my story of this pregnancy, and it has been a doozy!