My Journey with Recurrent Pregnancy Loss

Here we go. I posted recently about sharing with you all my story about recurrent miscarriages and pregnancy loss. There are two motives here. One, to hopefully look back on this tragic series of events and be even more grateful for where I am. I am hoping to read this one day while holding my second child and thinking wow, this is why. The second reason is to help even one woman out there feel less alone. When I was going through this, all three times and the days in between, I would stumble across a post, a story, a blog, and I would feel like I wasn't on this island by myself. I realized that unfortunately there are so many women out there who have very similar experiences. The timeline may change, they way they are going about their infertility, how many weeks along they were, but what the sad underlying commonality we all have is that we are experiencing or have experienced loss. We had the hopes of holding that baby in x amount of months and that was all suddenly taken away from us. Now, some of you reading this may think, what's the big deal? You weren't even really pregnant. As much as I want to scream at the very ignorant statement, I am here to say, no sir/ma'am we were in fact very pregnant because pregnancy isn't just about the positive reading you get on a stick. It's so much more. It's the tracking the days of when you ovulate to when you think you may be ovulating, to testing to see if in fact you ovulated, it's the hoping it worked, and then waiting the two weeks after to find out if in fact you are. The longest two weeks ever by the way. If you know you know. What I call TWWH (Two Week Wait Hell). It's the first doctor's appointment to confirm that you are pregnant, but not really knowing until you get that second HCG reading (pregnancy hormone indicator). It's the follow up ultrasound appointment confirming whether in fact the embryo implanted in the correct place. Some positive pregnancy readings can be a false positive because you've implanted elsewhere like an ovary or fallopian tube. It's the appointment after that to make sure they see a gestational sac and yolk and then the one after that to verify that there is in fact a heartbeat. Oh and if you're lucky i't's the one after that to make sure there is still a heartbeat all while waiting wondering, worrying, and hoping. I would be remiss if I didn't mention the beautiful warrior women who aren't even at this point. They might not even get to the positive test result because they are on a completely other path that I can't even pretend to know about. I can only imagine. The shots, fertility appointments, and years of disappointment news that they can't even get pregnant on their own. This my friends is the rollercoaster of emotions that some women have to endure when getting pregnant. So commentary about not actually being pregnant is just plain dumb and hurtful. I will post later on, "Things Not to Say to Women Who Have Endured Loss". Something we need more awareness and education on as well. So here I am. Open, vulnerable, and ready to share what has transpired these last six months that has shaped the person I have become and my future self.

April/May 2020

This was our first pregnancy of the three that ended in loss. We decided as most probably have during the Covid Era that it would be a good time to have another baby. I mean why not? We're in lockdown, bored, and well honestly it just made sense. Our daughter would be turning two in August and we figured why the heck not. So we went for it. I in all honesty don't test for ovulation, but tried this time. I got nothing on the testing strips, so I just went with what my Glow App was telling me and how my body felt. I can kind of tell when I'm in that ovulation window just based of of symptoms. So we did the deed, sorry mom and dad if you're reading this, and low and behold two weeks later I found out I was pregnant. I didn't pee on a stick, but went to the doctor for a visit and based on blood-work there was HCG in my body which was indicate that I could be pregnant. I followed up and the numbers went down. After an ultrasound, the tech told me that I probably was at some point pregnant, but it never implanted, which in turn means a chemical pregnancy. I didn't know what that meant. Still confused on the matter to be honest. What I've gathered is that your body recognizes that you are in fact pregnant, but something goes wrong along the way, a chromosomal abnormality maybe, that it implanted in the wrong place, or that your body just rejected the embryo for whatever reason. I guess I'll never know, which is saddening itself. I got my period a week later and just knew. I wasn't as hurt by this one because I thought...that's okay wasn't meant to be and I never really got into the attached phase when finding out you are expecting.

May/June 2020

This one hurt a little more. Physically and emotionally. We decided to try again because the doctor gave us the green light and even the ultrasound tech said, "You are actually more fertile after you miscarry". For the record a chemical pregnancy does count as a miscarriage. Ask any woman in the pregnancy loss community. It's real and it's still a loss. Anyway, we tried again and you guessed it. We were pregnant. This time I did test and I received a positive reading. I remember running into the my daughter's room crying saying, "You're going to be a big sister!" I couldn't wait to tell my husband and family. And that's what I did. Amateur mistake. I had my almost two year old daughter bring the pregnancy test to my husband and the look on his face was priceless. Part excited part scared. Couldn't blame the guy. We jumped right in. Calculating the due date, thinking of clever ways to tell our parents. Rookie mistake number two. Wait until you're far enough along to tell relatives and close friends. I was just so excited and beaming with joy that I wanted to tell the world. Glad I didn't and kept it to a minimum. I did run to Target and get that cliche big sister t-shirt. My mom noticed it the second we walked in one day. I thought to myself, okay this is it. I will have my family of four and I am beyond elated. If I could shake that woman....don't count your blessings until you can actually count them. Trigger warning....we got pregnant so fast with our first that I just assumed it would be the same with the second. I assumed the previous month was a fluke and this was the real deal. Shortly there after that my husband and I had a quick weekend trip planned with our daughter. A few days prior I started getting some really painful cramps and some light spotting. I called the doctor and they said to come in. The doctor there that day told me it could either be totally normal or that I was in the very early stages of a natural miscarriage. Oh cool...awesome...thanks...I came home and told my husband. I asked him if we should still go on our getaway and we decided that yes, to take my mind off of things it would be good. Later that evening the cramps got worse. Comparable to mild contractions, which again if you know you know. Not normal in my eyes, but I was hopeful and thinking maybe this is something else. We left that Thursday morning for our trip and when we got there the bleeding picked up. I knew deep down that this was in fact a miscarriage. I googled my brains out and needless to say the relaxing getaway was not going to happen. I tried to appreciate the time with my daughter and husband, but kept thinking why is this happening and what's to come? The next evening we went out to dinner and as we came back to the hotel, my cramps got worse. I mean I thought I was having a baby. I had to get to the hospital, so I did. My husband got me an Uber so he could stay with our daughter. She was sound asleep. Little angel baby...How terrifying right? To think you are miscarrying, take an Uber to an unknown hospital in an unknown city in the middle of a "pandemic" and I put that in quotes for a different reason that may or may not be elaborated on at a later date. I get to the hospital and the woman working behind the plastic screen says, "Ma'am are you okay? Can you tell me why you're here?" I vividly remember, "I think I'm miscarrying." Exchange of insurance and information and I am seen relatively quickly, which was a positive. After a couple of hours I finally go bak to the ultrasound room and the woman says you have a sac measuring about 6 weeks but no baby and no heartbeat. She told me she thought I was miscarrying and to just ride it out. That my body would naturally absorb everything else. She said I could take extra strength Ibuprofen and hopefully be okay within a few days. She was right, well physically anyway. I called an Uber back to the hotel and the guy was creepy. He passed my entrance to the hotel and I thought for sure, 'm done. The story ends here. Thank God he was just an idiot with his GPS and missed the entrance and socially awkward which is why he was creepy, but I did make it back okay around midnight. I barely slept and woke up a few hours later. We left and headed back home. I bled pretty bad, but physically felt better. Eventually, the pain subsided and the cramps went away. What I learned over these last couple of months was that I was giving birth. Those "cramps" were actually contractions and I was passing an embryo. Graphic, but truthful. If this makes you uncomfortable, imagine how I felt. We came home and I had to break the news to the people I told. That was heartbreaking. I also had to follow up with my doctor for weeks to make sure I was no longer pregnant. So while in the office seeing all the cute pregnant women, I was waiting to be called to remind the nurses that I am at this appointment to solidify that my HCG numbers are dropping and I am in fact no longer with child. Awesome. Oh and did I mention solo? Oh yeah, because #covid. Something positive that came out of those appointment was a very sweet ultrasound tech lady saying, "Natalie, you are very fertile after a miscarriage and everything looks good so try again and hope for the best." So I ignorantly listened to the woman and tried again. Hey...take 3 is always good right?

July-September 2020

So I took the woman's advice and we tried again. Why not right? Clearly we could get pregnant. We tried again around late June early July. In mid July we decided to go out of town, yes amidst a horrific pandemic. I had to get away. Glad we did. For the record we survived and everyone is okay. The beach, the seafood, the White-claws lol, it was all very therapeutic and healthy. I enjoyed every minute of it. Thankful for what I had. There was a part of me of course that was wondering how far along I would have been with the previous pregnancy and what life would have looked like. It's okay because it wasn't in the cards right? We came home very late one night from the trip and I just felt pregnant. You know, sore breasts, tired, bloated, nauseous. I just had a feeling so I decided to test that night. We put the baby down and I showered/tested. I remember testing before I jumped into the shower because waiting to the results is brutal so I figured might as well distract myself. When I came out of the shower I saw pregnant on the #clearblue pregnancy test. I couldn't believe it! I mean really!? Again?!!! I wrote Tom a cute note with the pregnancy test inside, saying this was our baby. I just felt it. I left my phone next to the note and when we were downstairs I asked him to go upstairs and get my phone. He seemed annoyed, but happy when he came back. I truly honestly thought this was it. Finally, third time's the charm? More like three strikes and you're out. I followed up with the doctor and everything looked great. Numbers were good, symptoms were normal. I was in the clear no? Even still, there was and probably will always be that little voice that says, but what if? I remember stalking my portal just waiting for my HCG numbers to come in and praying that they were high enough. They were. Progesterone was good, everything looked normal. I went in for an early ultrasound due to my history of miscarriages and the woman said she saw a sac and a yolk, but no baby, but not to worry that it might have been super early. So, I left feeling defeated, but still somewhat hopeful. I had a follow up ultrasound a week later. I remember driving to that ultrasound so nervous and anxious. I got there and they took me right away. Like they knew. The ultrasound tech had such good energy. She told me within 30 seconds, "There's your baby and do you see that flicker? That's the heartbeat." I cried instantaneously. How could you not? I could finally breathe. Not for long though. I went on for the next four weeks thinking everything was fine. My follow up appointment wasn't until about 12 weeks. Nothing to worry about. J/k as the kids say. One night I went to the bathroom and noticed some brown discharge coming out. I was worried, but not petrified like before because it was brown and brown blood is indicative of old blood so I thought I was okay. Well I started to get some mild cramping, nothing crazy and decided to call my doctor. She was no help. Said if you feel like going to the ER then go, if you don't then stay home. Oh, cool, thanks. How's that paycheck by the way? I knew myself and knew that I would drive myself mad if I didn't go. So I got in the car, without my husband or a friend or a family member, because you guessed it...Covid...and drove to the ER. I remember checking in being so scared and worried. The woman was so nice, she said hunny, you're fine. You don't have any extreme pain so you're good. We'll get you in and out. Five hours later. It took awhile for the doctor to see me. He said I am going to send you to get an utlrasound and we'll go from there, but was reassuring that I was probably fine. I finally get to the ultraound room and the woman who came in was super soft-spoken. She asked why I was there. They always do right? Like does no one fucking look at a chart? Anyway, I digress. I told her why. She did an external exam and said she didn't see anything. I was about 11 weeks at this point, so thought maybe it's too early. She then did an internal. I knew it the second she went in. I said, "do you see anything?" holding back tears. She said, "I can't say anything." I said, "bullshit, of course you can, of course you can, you're just choosing not to." I asked her kindly please, can you give me something, from a mother to a mother. I have to know. She said, "Hunny, I'm so sorry, but I can't find a heartbeat." My legs started to shake, I felt like throwing up. I was so sad, scared, and angry. So angry. How the f' did I get here again? The doctor said a few weeks ago everything was fine? I got dressed and was wheeled back to my room where the ER doctor confirmed that was I was experiencing was a missed miscarriage. That the baby stopped growing around 7 weeks. How devastating. He told me that my body would most likely reabsorb the baby/tissue and to follow up with my doctor. I did just that the next day. My doctor was on vacation, but met with an associate. The doctor advised me to have a D and C based on the fact that my body was not miscarrying naturally. After speaking with my husband that's what we decided to do. I couldn't do the pill. I guess for some women it doesn't work and you have to wind up having the procedure anyway, plus there is an increase of getting an infection. So I left and awaited the call to scheduled the surgery. A woman called me on my way home and told me she could get me in later that week or early the following that I would have to have a Covid test done prior to surgery and it takes 4-5 days to get the results. This will be graphic, but it's what happened. I told her I wasn't going to walk around with my dead baby inside of me because of fucking Covid. She got me into emergency surgery early the next day. Magic. My husband was allowed for this surgery and we went together. I cried, I think he did too. Especially when we had to sign the fetal death certificate. It was awful, but I wanted it over. I wanted to move on and heal. I eventually came to after the surgery and the doctor said everything went well. I came home and rested. The next few days I still felt off. Like my back hurt, I was sore, I was bleeding a lot, and just felt ill. I decide to call my doctor and they saw me right away. They said, "Oh you just had surgery, give your body time to heal." I did that. About a week after that I still felt the same, I went back in and the ultrasound tech said she saw some remaining tissue, meaning they didn't get all of it. That there was still some product left in my uterus. They told me I had to have another D and C contingent upon my Covid results. I told them I was negative, we argued, after me being very persuasive and justifiably indignant, they got me on the schedule for later that day. The miracle of voice. This time Tom was not allowed in. Interesting. Apparently Covid is only prevalent in certain surgical centers. I was alone and scared, but was finally, I toss around this word so freely, ready to be done. I do recall having the most kind nurse that hugged me and said, "Oh my God woman, this is unheard of." She did, however, give me strength. I remember getting wheeled into the operating room and one of the nurses being about 7 months pregnant. Like taking a bullet.

I again came home to rest and felt better, but not 100 percent. My follow up with the doctor indicated that I did have an infection that needed three different rounds of antibiotics, but that the tissue was in fact all removed.

September/October 2020

I can't even begin to tell you how discouraging and disheartening all of this has been. Not because we are going through Covid stuff, but because I just assumed everything would be easy and flawless as it was for Madalyne. During these last few months I have gone through every emotion, emotions I didn't even know existed. There have been good days and bad. I think the hardest part is the "what ifs." The wondering how many weeks I would be, what this baby would be, how the holidays would have been pregnant with a toddler. The sadness that accompanies the disappointment of telling your friends and family that you miscarried yet again. It's hard when your daughter kicks you in the belly and says, "No kick, baby in there, baby bye bye, boy or girl." We used to say to her, "No kicking because there's a baby in there, do you think it's a boy or a girl." Crazy how 2 year olds remember everything.

Am I sad? Yes. Am I agitated when people say, "Oh God has a plan, be thankful for what you have, or it wasn't meant to be"? You bet your ass I am. It hurts. Loss sucks. It's like if you lose a parent and people say, "Oh they're in a better place." Actually they're not. They were good here seeing their grandkids grow. If I get any point across, please don't dismiss loss in regards to pregnancy/miscarriage. Ask the person what you can do. Say, "it fucking sucks", bring them food, or just let them cry. And PSA, not for a day. For weeks after because as holidays approach and baby announcements surface on the social media platforms, women will be triggered. It will bring back moments and pain that has been quieted inside them because you only get a few days to be sad and then you have to move on. We need to stop allowing that to happen. I have learned through his process that it's okay to be sad, angry, and bitchy for no reason. I lost three babies in 2020 and that fucking sucks. No positive spin on that one.

Moving forward I hope to be in a better place and to look back on all this and say, "It sucked, but it got you here." I'm not there yet, and don't know when that day will come. I do hold and love on my baby girl a little more though, thats for sure. So if you're a mom that has gone through this, going through this, or if you do go through this, know that so many women are in your corner and we are here for you. You are not alone and do not have to grieve in silence. Sending lots of love, light, and baby dust to those who need it your way :-)

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