When I was pregnant with Piper, it was my first pregnancy. Other than the typical first timer fears of “OMG, is this pregnancy going to stick? Is everything all right?” I was okay. I waited the weeks until our first appointment, a little panicky but overall okay. After all, I had no reason to be suspicious. I peed on various tests, watching that test line gradually darken, knowing hormones were kicking in, thankful for the nausea and the boobs that were so freaking sore I couldn’t go without a tight bra.
The second time I got pregnant, I was still nervous. I was excited but okay. Then my temp started dropping and I got a little scared. I stopped temping to avoid the stress. My tests didn’t get darker- at all. I had no nausea, no sore boobs, nothing to tell me everything was okay. Still, I made that appointment, hopeful everything was going to be okay. Then I saw brown on the tissue. I called the doctor, fearful but knowing brown spotting = old blood, and we all know old blood isn’t the kind to be scared of. “Watch for bright red blood and cramping, back pain. Even then, a little spotting isn’t bad, it’s normal.” Luckily, the spotting had ceased. The next morning I had to drop Piper off at school, Paul had to leave early. I was getting her ready and went to the bathroom. There was red on the tissue, and my heart stopped. Still, I had to suck it up, I was in charge of Piper. As I continued the morning routine, I repeatedly went to the bathroom, red, red. I was starting to cramp. I was scared, so scared. Before we left for school, I sent Paul a text saying, “It’s red blood now. I think I’m losing the baby.” I put on Piper’s music in the car and let her sing along while I was deep in thought. How we didn’t somehow die on that trip I’ll never know, my mind was not there at all. I remember walking up to the door, saying hello to the teacher. The whole time thinking, “I’m probably miscarrying and there is nothing we can do about it.” I kissed Piper goodbye and headed to the office. The spotting turned to bleeding. I called our nurse crying. It was the beginning of the end.
“Next time”, I thought, “next time- it there IS a next time- I will go in early for betas. I will stop temping, I will do whatever I can.”
There was a next time. It was a very, very unexpected next time. Still, I did everything right. I kept temping a few days, until it all went haywire and I freaked out and threw it into Paul’s nightstand. I kept taking my vites, I kept testing and seeing the line get darker and darker. Everything was moving as it should. I called my doctor to get my betas done- at 15dpo it was 258. Then, at 17 dpo, it was 817 or something equally high. Things were really good. There was no instance of spotting, not one speck of red or pink. My boobs were hurting, but that was it. I was worried, but not overly, as I had the betas done, right? I was scheduled for an early ultrasound at what should have been 6ish weeks or so. We saw two gestational sacs, one with a yolk sac. It was measuring a few days small, which isn’t a big deal- I have a tilted uterus. I went back, and it had grown but not that much. And well… you know how it turned out.
I’m going over all this because I am not sure what I have left to do. We did the “wait and see” approach, and it didn’t help. We did the cautionary way, and nothing helped. Everything was looking great this last time. We had no reason to be suspicious. Now, we have no safety nets. I have nothing to turn to in order to ease my fears. Betas have proven nothing is concrete, and early scans are just a window to a chain of events that will break your heart.
Where do you turn when you have no more options left to keep you sane? I have two options for the next time- if there is a next time, and I’m not sure there will be-, I can just be an outright fucking mess from that first positive test until I get to 14 weeks (or the baby is born, depending on what we determine the issue was) , or I can just let go and do whatever I can personally (baby aspirin and whatever else is an option) to ensure I will feel no guilt should something happen again, but otherwise just have faith.
Gotta be honest, neither one of those plans sound particularly awesome. I’m trying so hard to be optimistic, and happy that it appears I am ovulating today or ovulated yesterday (based on cervical mucous and opks and ovulation pain), which means the hcg is low enough to ovulate. I’m working really hard at being hopeful that the next pregnancy will be the success and thus, the last. But right now I am being inundated with pregnancy news. Left and right people are announcing pregnancies, and I am foolishly taking joy in being happy that I have an appointment on Tuesday for a scan to make sure my body expelled the last of the baby I lost. It all seems so unfair when I look at it that way. They get to be happy knowing they have no reason to be afraid. I envy them. I wish so badly that I could get that feeling back, that feeling of being scared for the future, but knowing deep down the odds are great that all will be well. At least, for me, the odds didn’t make one spit of difference. I was still the odd loss out. I know no matter what, I am going to be absolutely terrified. I don’t know if I will be able to experience a pregnancy without fear now. I’m terrified right now, and there is no reason- no pregnancy to worry about.
I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I’m trying so hard to not try to envision it as a total black hole of despair and fear. Very hard.