Gina’s Story

We had two losses in between our children.  Our first, we had no real issue getting pregnant.  Maybe three months of trying, one of which we didn’t really get a chance due to the military.  So, really only two months. 

I was really early on when we found out we were pregnant with our daughter, so my HCG levels were really low and I had to get repeat tests to ensure I wasn’t about to miscarry.  Although, a few years later, this idea that there is something we could have done to prevent a loss this early seems almost laughable in a sad way.  It turned out that I was just not as far along as I thought I was with her, and had ovulated late in my cycle.  The HCG levels were doubling, and I went on to have a fairly comfortable pregnancy and birth. 

Around her first birthday, I finally got my period back and we decided to start trying for our second.  My sister and I were less than two years apart, and I wanted our children to be close in age.  But this time around, it did not seem as easy to get pregnant.  Month after month of pregnancy tests, and big ole negatives.  I was driving myself crazy with monitoring my fertility each month, to be disappointed in the end. 

My sister was pregnant during this time, and we had started to create this mini shrine for her.  We would add an item each week to honor another week with the baby in her pregnancy.  I had heard of a woman doing this after two pregnancy losses, as a way to connect with her third pregnancy.  She wanted to honor each week with her baby, even if she didn’t get to meet them in the end.  I thought this was a special way to honor a pregnancy.  Little did I know this would be my own story in the next year.

In November, after about 7 months of trying, we finally had a positive!  We were due in August the following year, and our babies would be 26 months apart.  Perfect!  I was having all the pregnancy symptoms; trouble eating, fatigue.  But then in December, I noticed some really light brown spotting.  I sent a request in an anonymous question to a local facebook group asking if anyone had experienced brown spotting and what it meant.  I brushed it off as nothing; must be normal.  I was sick, maybe that was it.  But now I feel better.  All good.

But I felt anxious; I didn’t want to tell anyone that I had spotting that one time, as if not telling anyone would make it not real.  I googled forums, “brown spotting during first trimester,” and only read the positive stories. 

Around the 9 week mark, I just felt a lot of anxiety.  I needed an ultrasound to make sure everything was okay.  My sister worked on a labor and delivery floor, so a midwife offered to give me a scan.  She started the scan, but was having trouble finding the baby.  She called in an OB resident to see if she could see it; said the ultrasound machine up on their floor was not as good as the ones down in the clinic so maybe that’s why we can’t see anything.  The resident scheduled me for an appointment the following day in the clinic to use a better ultrasound machine. 

We went to the appointment the next day, and it was the same image: no baby.  Gestational sac, and a huge yolk sac, but no baby.  I was confused and in denial.  No, the baby was there, we just didn’t look hard enough.  The baby was hiding.  I’m not as far along as we think I am.

I obsessively read forum after forum of mistaken missed miscarriages.  Countless stories of women who were about to go in for a D&C and had a last minute ultrasound, just in case, and suddenly there is a baby.  This will be me.  I was sure of it, but also deep down I knew I was setting myself up to be disappointed.

Week after week, we went in for another follow up ultrasound.  We did a total of three appointments, and on the final one, it finally set in that there was no baby and we were not going to find one.  Each week I just felt more and more numb to the experience; I just didn’t really know what to feel.  We opted to miscarry at home with the help of medicine and pain killers.  I just felt numb the entire weekend.  The actual miscarriage was not as eventful or physically painful as I had imagined; yet another disappointment in my expectations.

There was no baby, so I felt confused on what to mourn.  Do I mourn the pregnancy?  The life I thought I was going to have?  Was there ever a baby for me to mourn?  I was at a loss, and confused on how to even direct my grief.

We were told to wait a few months before trying again; but my husband was preparing to deploy so we opted to start trying right away.  But it didn’t really matter because we didn’t get pregnant again until August, six months later. 

The greatest thing I did for myself during those six months, and the weeks leading up to the miscarriage as we navigated the inevitable loss, was share my story.  I was fortunate to be surrounded with other women with amazing hearts that listened to me as I shared the same story over and over again; and I worked through my emotions and experience with them.  I was fortunate that most of them just listened, without trying to minimize my pain and grief, and allowed me to be heard.  Then they would share their own story of loss, and I suddenly felt so much less alone in this experience.

There were a few that were less helpful; the just keep trying and you’ll have one; or just relax and you’ll get pregnant.  I had one ER doctor tell me that his daughter had four miscarriages and she has a bunch of kids now, as if it were some sort of competition.  Ultimately, he was uncomfortable with my grief and wanted to minimize my situation by sharing his own experience with loss.  This sort of comforting may appear to be connecting through a shared experience, but it takes away from what I am feeling right now and brings the conversation back to them.  Fortunately, this kind of response to my loss was fairly minimal.  And for that I am thankful.

In August, we found out we were pregnant again.  I immediately went to go get a blood test to confirm, and scheduled my OB intake appointment when we had a positive result.  I felt anxious, but remembered that telling others about our previous pregnancy was a gift in the end even though it ended in loss.  I decided that I wanted to share both the joy and sorrow with others, should this pregnancy end in a loss also.

This time of joy was short-lived.  A few days later, I wiped and saw bright red blood.  I immediately headed to the ER, as if they could do something to stop this.  I was actually pulled over for speeding on the way, and cried as the police officer asked where I was going and told him to the hospital because I was having a miscarriage.  He thankfully let me go, so my day wasn’t just that much worse.

They took my blood, and registered me into the ER.  When I was asked how many pregnancies losses have I had, I answered two in tears.  The nurse comforted me that just because I was bleeding didn’t mean I was miscarrying, and to count this as a pregnancy still.  It gave me the smallest glimmer of hope, but I knew it was not in my best interest to have faith as I was bleeding all over my pants. 

After a few hours of waiting, we were called back to see a doctor.  The doctor asked why I thought I was here.  I was confused why he needed to ask me that, but replied because I am possibly having a miscarriage.  He replied that on Friday my pregnancy blood test was positive and now its negative.  He then stated that he didn’t think he needed to do an internal exam, but would check my abdomen externally. 

I was at a loss for the complete lack of compassion.  As he touched my abdomen, I began to cry.  And this is where he pulled back and told me his daughter had had 4 losses.  At no point during my appointment with him did I feel any sort of genuine compassion or empathy to our loss.  I left feeling angry and furious at this man, and even more angry that I didn’t call him out on his bullshit.  But in retrospective, I was in no place to call anyone out on anything.  You’re not supposed to have two losses in a row; it’s supposed to only be that one time.  It’s unheard of to have it twice in a row.

I wasn’t sure how to feel this time.  Was there a baby this time?  I was barely pregnant, and the loss was so sudden.  I didn’t have the weeks lead up like last time to process.  Did I even have time to consider what life would be like with this baby in our family?  I was unsure of how to mourn, and if I even should.  But I shared my story again with others, and found comfort in that. 

We found out we were pregnant the next month with our rainbow baby.  This pregnancy was filled with anxiety and concern.  Is the baby okay?  I made it all the way to 9 weeks the first time before we even found out anything was wrong, and that was only because I had an ultrasound.  I scheduled an ultrasound at 6 weeks with the clinic.  They saw a flicker!  This was good; only a small percentage of pregnancies end in miscarriage after you see a heartbeat.  But this was just a flicker…

I scheduled an ultrasound at a private clinic at 8 weeks.  Heartbeat.  Okay, this was good.  I checked my toilet paper every single wipe my entire pregnancy.  Any blood?  Nope.  I always turned the light on to pee so I could check the toilet paper for any sign of loss. 

Had another ultrasound at 10 weeks.  Still a heartbeat.  Again at 12.  Still looking good.  Still checking my toilet paper.  Still feeling disconnected from this experience.  Uncertain and afraid to commit to the reality that I am pregnant.

It wasn’t until I felt the baby moving that I began to feel more sure of the pregnancy.  But I still refused to connect with the experience and imagine our life with this baby.  How sad this was!  I wanted to connect and be a part of it, but I just knew I couldn’t’ do a third loss in a row.  I don’t know if I could handle it again.  To go through all this again!

I expressed my sadness of not feeling connected due to fear to a friend who had suffered loss later in her pregnancies.  She told me that she never regretted bonding with her babies even though she lost them.  That she only had that short period of time with them, and she was glad she loved them.  And that really resonated with me.  That was the moment I accepted that I was pregnant and imagined my life with this baby. 

In my third trimester, I finally bought him some clothes.  I had avoided it all pregnancy.  But now, here I was, buying him a onesie.  This was a huge step for me mentally.  And then I began to connect more and more, and felt less and less anxious.  He was coming and this was real.

He was born June 16th in our home next to a table filled with the items from his pregnancy shrine.  And he was meant to be with our family.