The journey of our pregnancy-when the bleeding started til the end

A continuation of our pregnancy journey:

That was fine until two weeks after my prenatal visit. Friday, August 15th, I started bleeding. I was terrified. I actually should say that I started spotting on Thursday, August 14th. When I called my OBGYN office, I explained what was going on. They told me not to panic because this happens to many women early in pregnancy but that they don't like to see it. They sent me to the hospital to get bloodwork done and to check my HCG levels. After going to the hospital, I was told that if my numbers were good, I'd need to go for an ultrasound the next day. I received a phone call Thursday afternoon that said my numbers were good for where I was in my pregnancy and I had an ultrasound appointment at ten AM the next day.

While I was reassured about my numbers, I was still nervous about the ultrasound. We had had so many ups and downs so far and I was now so excited about this baby. My mom and dad knew what was going on and my mom was especially supportive as I was learning how pregnancy worked. In addition to being nervous, I was also personally frazzled because I was supposed to attend (as a leader) a Christian music festival weekend. I was supposed to leave with the group and two other leaders on Friday morning. Obviously that got cancelled! Thankfully, everyone understood.

Friday morning, we went in for the ultrasound. We arrived just a wee bit early and ended up waiting almost two hours (it was an extraordinarily busy day) for what should been a ten o'clock appointment. Just before noon, we headed in. They started with an regular ultrasound (doubting they would be able to see anything because my uterus was tilted and I was only six weeks along) and ended up needing a transvaginal ultrasound (not a terrible experience but definitely unpleasant) to get a close look. As we did that ultrasound, all of a sudden a little blob with a flicker came up. The technician made a few measurements and then she announced that our little baby was 6.7 weeks old and "there is a heartbeat!" Chris and I let out sighs from breaths we didn't even realize we had been holding. Our little Peep was living and her heart was still beating. Her heartbeat, I believe, was 161 which was considered on the higher end of the range (which assisted in us later identifying her as a girl). We were thrilled. We went on our way with joy in our hearts!

The next few weeks were ups and downs. I continued to bleed but it didn't change much. When I went in for a ten week check up, they couldn't find the heartbeat with the fetal doppler monitor. However, the doctor was not at all concerned, saying that it was still early in pregnancy. He gave me the option of coming back in two weeks to simply check for the heartbeat or to wait for the next appointment. I opted to wait for the next appointment because we figured that checking wouldn't really change anything. Sometimes, I wish we'd checked sooner because as the few weeks went on, we had fallen more and more in love with our little Peep. Every day, we became even more excited. We never made it to my thirteen week appointment.

At about the nine week mark, we started telling those family and friends we hadn't told yet, and at ten weeks, we made it public. Around the ten week mark, I started to notice some changes too. My nausea lessened but didn't completely go away and the tenderness in my chest became less too. My moods, however, became much worse. For some reason, I was extremely irritable and mean. I was frustrated easily with Chris and close to tears as all times. I didn't know why but I knew pregnancy could make a woman crazy so I just attributed it to that. By eleven weeks, my symptoms were almost non-existent but my mood was still crazy! Finally, as I hit the twelve week point, I decided my symptoms were going away because I was ending the first trimester. Also, I figured my bleeding would stop soon. While I hoped for that though, there was a nagging thought in the back of my mind that left me wondering why I had bled every day for almost six weeks straight. I was sure that wasn't normal. However, I was hoping baby was fine and maybe if it continued into the second trimester, it was something like placenta previa but something manageable--not a miscarriage.

Monday, September 20th, I went to work like normal. I was feeling pretty good physically and my mood had even been a little better that weekend. The weekend before we had visited my parents in Michigan and enjoyed going to a few baby stores to figure out what we wanted to register for. We had decided not to register until November or so though because we wanted to make sure the pregnancy progressed normally. We also wanted to be very organized and make our registration a quick one trip round already knowing what we wanted/needed to register for. Work on Monday went fine. Around lunchtime, I went to the bathroom. I got a wee bit nervous because I saw that I was bleeding heavier. But not significantly heavier. It wasn't even as heavy as a period. But it was heavier. Yet I didn't have any cramping. So I just pushed it aside. This continued all day.

That evening I shared with Chris what was going on. He told me I needed to call the doctor. I was adamant that I did not need to call the doctor. Secretly, I was terrified that something was wrong. Not that denial would have fixed it but I did not want to go there. We talked about it and I finally agreed to call the next morning. I called before I left the house. Chris was still in bed trying to sleep in as late as possible because he was to work a night shift that evening. When I called and explained what was going on, I didn't have to say much. Within two sentences, the nurse said they were going to want me to come in. I asked when I should come and she told me as soon as I could get there. I woke Chris up and we drove there. I knew if it was bad news, I wouldn't want to be alone and that if it was good news, I was going to need him to drop me off at work after the visit. We arrived at the office and they took us back (no, they did not weigh me...there is now a note on the chart to keep me very far away from the scale!) to an exam room where the medical assistant first, then nurse, then doctor all tried to find the heartbeat. They were not successful. The doctor informed me that this could still be because my uterus was tilted but that I needed to go for an ultrasound at the hospital.

We checked out and headed to the hospital. As we parked in the garage, I asked Chris to pray for us. He did....which majorly comforted and blessed me. I will always remember that. Our wait was short but it felt like forever. We were taken back to an ultrasound room. I got on the table and our technician started the ultrasound. She finally got a good angle at my uterus. My first thought was that "Yes, my baby is in there!" My second thought was "Oh no...that baby is not moving and it's much too small to be a twelve week old baby." Sure enough, the technician quietly informed us that the baby was measuring in at nine weeks and that there was no heartbeat. I burst into tears and Chris tensed up. He put his arms around me on the table and I leaned my head onto his shoulder. I tried to compose myself but was struggling. I was like "I knew this might happen. I had been bleeding the whole time...but it's so weird. I didn't even want to be pregnant at first but then I did! Then I wanted this baby so much....!" She looked at me and said "Many women feel that way. And by the way you definitely didn't cause this...it just happens sometimes."

She left the room to call the doctor and discuss the results. When she returned, she said that the doctor would be calling into this room to give me options. He promptly called. My options were to wait and finish miscarrying naturally, to take a pill to induce and finish the miscarriage, or to have a D&C. Chris and I briefly whispered while I was on the phone, both in agreement that we should go with the D&C. We feared emotional trauma from the pill or natural miscarriage at home. We also knew there was no indication as to how long it would take for me to go through the process. We also knew until I finished miscarrying physically, I couldn't begin to process emotionally. So we went ahead with the D&C.

The rest of Tuesday, September 21st was a blur of phone calls, tears, and lots of hugs. We spent a lot of time talking with family, friends, and church members. Chris's cousin was extremely helpful having gone through this just two weeks before. She explained D&Cs to me and her personal experience. This was a major blessing. Later that day, I also started bleeding heavier and started cramping. It wasn't terrible yet so I figured I'd make it to the D&C. It was disheartening though that as the cramping picked up, I could finally feel my uterus, hard and contracting. Great. I finally felt a slight baby bump and I wasn't even pregnant anymore.

That night was rough. I didn't take a sleeping pill and was exhausted. It was sleep, cry, cry, sleep, wake up crying, sleep, wake up, remember what happened, cry, sleep, toss and turn, all night long. Finally it was five o'clock in the morning and we got up to head to the hospital. We checked in, waited, and then finally was taken back. After giving a urine sample, I met the anesthesiologist, a couple of students, a resident, and finally my doctor. Because my OBGYN office consists of a big group of doctors, I hadn't met this woman yet. However, Chris and I were very pleased with her. She was very empathic saying "Shannon, I'm so sorry we have to meet this way...next time I see you here, I want you to be huge, fat, and totally pregnant--ready to deliver." Chris and I were in total agreement. I was bummed meeting her that way too...She would have been my thirteen week appointment doctor! Anyhow, she answered a few questions, told us we could start trying to get pregnant again as soon as we wanted (some doctors say wait.....she wasn't concerned....) and explained the D&C. She also told us that our children were going to have awesome colored eyes someday. (We both have blue eyes.) The nicest thing was that the anesthesiologist gave me something to relax me and Chris kissed me good-bye. Then the doctor walked with me back to the OR. Chris said that never happens. That made me feel so much better. Even though, I hadn't met her before, she was MY doctor. Unlike the nurses and techs who I felt like belonged to the hospital, I felt as though my case belonged to her and she at least knew what was going on with me. We got back there, I looked around the OR, shifted onto the OR bed and that was all I remember.

When I woke up in the recovery room, I burst into tears. They gave me something for nausea which had started to come on and then they gave me something for pain. I hadn't realized I would hurt like I did. It wasn't terrible but it was bad. However, the pain meds made me feel physically better. However, emotionally, I was a wreck. When I finally walked from the bed to the recliner recovery room, I was really upset. They went and got Chris and when he came in, I was sobbing. He held me. The next few hours were tears, more pain meds (Perkocet which made me itch all over, scalp to toe), and then finally they sent me home. I felt better a couple of hours later but I kept crying "I want my baby...."

So that's the story of our pregnancy and our emotional journey from conception to D&C. It was difficult but we got through it. God was with us every step of the way. It is my hope that you will under us, especially me, better and why this has been such a unique and emotional journey. It is also my hope that you will not judge me. I have revealed more of myself in these two posts but I believe that my transparency will help others to see me as real. I want to be real. I am a sinner who has been redeemed and is held together by the sacred blood of Jesus Christ.

Thanks for reading.

~Shannon