This summer, MacDad and I experienced a few situations that left me thinking: why have I never heard of anyone else going through this? In an effort to help others realize that these events are more common than suspected, I'm going to share.
In mid-July, I found out I was pregnant. The first few weeks developed similarly to my pregnancy with MacBaby. I was hungry and proceeded to eat constantly. Two weeks after confirming the good news, I felt nauseous all the time. Because I had two early miscarriages before MacBaby, my lady doctor monitored my HCG levels, which progressed as expected. Also because of the previous miscarriages, we went in for an early ultrasound.
Miraculously, I went into the doctor's office right on time, but MacDad was running late. I had an preview of my uterus, which appeared empty except for a placenta. He explained a phenomenon I had never heard before, the missed miscarriage. At this early stage, it would have meant that the pregnancy did not take, but my body proceeded as though I were pregnant. He suggested we continue monitoring my pregnancy hormones, then scheduled a follow up ultrasound for the next week. He gave us a 10 percent chance that perhaps I was pregnant, and that, for some reason, the fetus was not yet visible by ultrasound.
MacDad went home immediately to Google, alerting us of another trend, the misdiagnosed missed miscarriage, a topic recently covered in Babble. Trigger-happy doctors impatient to wait until the next week (or weeks) to determine if the pregnancy is indeed viable abort fetuses based on the immediate diagnosis. We learned of one woman who didn't see her baby on the ultrasound until her 12th week!
Needless to say, I was not in the mood to write about any of this. We had told a few people about the pregnancy, but didn't continue sharing. Meanwhile, my stomach grew and I continued to feel like crap.
Determined to wait a reasonable length of time before deciding our next steps, we went to our appointment a week later (MacDad was on time for this one). Hopeful to end our anxiety, we were relieved to see a tiny bean with a heartbeat on the screen.
That weekend, I swapped my maternity gear for my regular clothes, continued trying not to vomit, spread the good news and proceeded as expectant parents. MacDad traveled for work almost every week, I let the laundry pile in heaps.
With MacDad on the road and my mom watching MacBaby, I ventured to the doctor solo for my 10 week visit. In the car, I remembered feeling excited for my appointments during the previous pregnancy, but now I felt, anxious, almost dreading going to the office. Later, my doctor shared that maybe my body was trying to tell me something.
My feelings, it turned out, were justified. On this ultrasound a heartbeat was absent. The baby measured only at 7 weeks. It had died only days after our last visit.
My parents met me at the doctor's office and we looked for a more hopeful result on a secondary ultrasound. Unfortunately, the diagnosis remained. I arranged for a D&C, not wanting to spend more time looking and feeling pregnant with no positive outcome. MacDad drove home at 3 a.m. from out of town to be there for the procedure.
The doctor assured me that I suffered only from bad luck and nothing I did caused the miscarriage. But you still have to wonder. Did my anxiety make the baby feel unwanted? Was it the glass of wine I had before I knew I was expecting? If 20 percent of pregnancies turn out this way, why didn't I ever hear anyone talk about it happening to them? No celebrities who announce their pregnancy have to say never mind. It didn't make sense. Why did it seem like the only person who suffered miscarriages?
It's not that I wanted everyone I know to have the same experience, but if it happens to two out of ten pregnant women, then they must be out there. Within a week, I learned of two other women who had miscarriages the same week that I did with a D&D to follow. And then, there were celebrities talking about similar issues.
With these events six weeks behind us, I'm left with an extra ten pounds and the annoyance of having to answer questions about my due date. One particularly sensitive fellow asked if I was sure when I told him there was no baby. I'm pretty sure, dude.
MacDad and I have done a pretty good job of keeping the miscarriage in perspective. Yes, it was sad, but it could have been worse. Not to mention, we have our good egg at home who's eager to hang out with us. Even at 5:45 a.m. I welcome his first "mama" of the day.
With a little distance, I've realized that it might help me to write about it. And, it may help others who have also had miscarriages to realize they're not the only one. We'll probably try to conceive again, but this time I'll probably keep the news to myself for awhile, even if a baby bump is obvious. When the time's right to share, I will.
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