After my first miscarriage the comments from the doctors' were very similar. The consensus was: Bad luck. Since miscarriages are very common, the assumption is that when you have one, it's simply bad luck or nature running it's course, etc. It doesn't make it easier to deal with, but that's the general rule of thought.
After my first miscarriage I was dying to get pregnant again. Could. Not. Wait. It only took two months until my 2nd pregnancy. This was in October.
After you've had one miscarriage, they begin to monitor you more closely that someone who has never miscarried. I called the office within an hour of pregnancy test confirmation and they immediately scheduled blood work. I went in that day to have my HCG levels tested and was told to come back two days later. The tests are to confirm that your HCG (the pregnancy hormone) levels are rising appropriately. They wanted mine to double within two days to make sure my pregnancy was in fact, a pregnancy, and that it was progressing appropriately.
It was! Phew. One test down.
Next was a 6 week ultrasound to check for a heartbeat. With my first pregnancy, I wasn't scheduled for an ultrasound until much later, so I was never able to hear a heartbeat. I was scared to death. My mom went with me and I nervously watching faces to see if I could detect that anything was wrong. Nothing was wrong. I heard the heartbeat! It was amazing and exciting and wonderful. My mom said, "See, I told you it was going to be ok."
Two weeks later all of my symptoms just went away. No more slight nausea, no more aching boobs; I felt fine. And that's when I knew. I knew something was wrong, again.
I was 8 weeks when my ultrasound confirmed my 2nd miscarriage. They said all growth had stopped at 6 weeks and 3 days. Just three days after hearing the beautiful heartbeat.
I wish I could explain the sadness and the anger that come with a miscarriage, but I can't. There are no words.
Showing posts with label miscarriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miscarriage. Show all posts
Monday, January 6, 2014
Miscarriage #1
I think the worst thing about trying to start a family is all the waiting. You have to wait to ovulate, then you wait two weeks to see if you're actually pregnant. If you're not, you wait again and the cycle continues.
After my first miscarriage, I had to have a D&C. For those of you who don't know what that is, well, it sucks. It's not painful because you are under anesthesia, but it causes a lot more waiting. It's a surgical process to remove the tissue that your body chose not to "get rid of" or "miscarry" on its own.
After the procedure (which takes about 40 minutes) you wait for the bleeding and cramps to stop and then you wait for your period (yay, more bleeding!). Well, after my first D&C, the bleeding got worse and the cramps were awful and we realized that something wasn't "right." A scheduled follow-up trip to the OBGYN found the culprit. The D&C hadn't been completely successful and there was still a small piece of tissue inside (or as they delightfully call it: remaining products of conception). We scheduled a SECOND D&C for later in the week.
While waiting for my 2nd procedure, the pain became intolderable (while on my summer vacation--away from home--at a lake house). The only place in the house where I was remotely comfortable was on the toilet (see, I told you shit was about to get real). It was awful and uncomfortable. Good thing I didn't have dinner guests. Oh wait, yeah, I did. Awkard.
After a call to the emergency line at my doctor's office I was told that my body was basically trying to get the tissue out on its own. It was as if my own body had gone into a process similar to labor. I'm not going to lie, those 24 hours seriously made me want to give up because DAMN, labor hurts. A prescription for Vicodin and lots of sleep made the rest of the week bearable. Good thing I wasn't interviewing for teaching jobs the whole week. Oh wait, yeah, I was. Uncomfortable.
So, two D&C's later and I just had to once again, wait. And wait. And wait.
After my first miscarriage, I had to have a D&C. For those of you who don't know what that is, well, it sucks. It's not painful because you are under anesthesia, but it causes a lot more waiting. It's a surgical process to remove the tissue that your body chose not to "get rid of" or "miscarry" on its own.
After the procedure (which takes about 40 minutes) you wait for the bleeding and cramps to stop and then you wait for your period (yay, more bleeding!). Well, after my first D&C, the bleeding got worse and the cramps were awful and we realized that something wasn't "right." A scheduled follow-up trip to the OBGYN found the culprit. The D&C hadn't been completely successful and there was still a small piece of tissue inside (or as they delightfully call it: remaining products of conception). We scheduled a SECOND D&C for later in the week.
While waiting for my 2nd procedure, the pain became intolderable (while on my summer vacation--away from home--at a lake house). The only place in the house where I was remotely comfortable was on the toilet (see, I told you shit was about to get real). It was awful and uncomfortable. Good thing I didn't have dinner guests. Oh wait, yeah, I did. Awkard.
After a call to the emergency line at my doctor's office I was told that my body was basically trying to get the tissue out on its own. It was as if my own body had gone into a process similar to labor. I'm not going to lie, those 24 hours seriously made me want to give up because DAMN, labor hurts. A prescription for Vicodin and lots of sleep made the rest of the week bearable. Good thing I wasn't interviewing for teaching jobs the whole week. Oh wait, yeah, I was. Uncomfortable.
So, two D&C's later and I just had to once again, wait. And wait. And wait.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Sometimes you have to scream FUCK
I don't swear all that much in my daily life. I am fairly perky and positive. But, sometimes you just have to say/scream FUCK. Because sometimes things suck. No, they fucking suck, and you and I have the right to say that.
On the front page of yahoo this weekend was the headline: J-Wow is pregnant. J-Wow. First off, if you don't know who "J-Wow" is, lets just start with the name. It has the word "wow" right in it, so that's gotta tell you something.
I watched J-Wow a couple of times on MTV's "Jersey Shore." She now has her own spin-off show with Snooki. That's right, Snooki. I watched this woman get tanned, toned, drunk, sick, felt-up...well, you get the picture. Anyway, she's pregnant. This woman. J-Wow. But, I'm not. And I'm lovely and have never done those things (on tv anyway or since I reached my thirties...).
So, this is one of those things that just doesn't seem fair. And so to this I yell: FUUUCCKKK.
You can too, it's ok.
On the front page of yahoo this weekend was the headline: J-Wow is pregnant. J-Wow. First off, if you don't know who "J-Wow" is, lets just start with the name. It has the word "wow" right in it, so that's gotta tell you something.
I watched J-Wow a couple of times on MTV's "Jersey Shore." She now has her own spin-off show with Snooki. That's right, Snooki. I watched this woman get tanned, toned, drunk, sick, felt-up...well, you get the picture. Anyway, she's pregnant. This woman. J-Wow. But, I'm not. And I'm lovely and have never done those things (on tv anyway or since I reached my thirties...).
So, this is one of those things that just doesn't seem fair. And so to this I yell: FUUUCCKKK.
You can too, it's ok.
The Diagnosis
So, here it is: I am/might be/could be infertile. Wow, it's a really hard thing to type. But, that's the term for it. That's the DIAGNOSIS. And, it's weird because it has so many different meanings and levels.
And, my story is very different and yet similar to/from all the other women who are also struggling with this issue. Everyone who has been diagnosed with infertility has a slightly different story. Some women have been struggling for 10 years, and may view my struggle as "mild" or "not that big of a deal." But to me, it feels like a gut-wrenching, soul sucking journey that makes me feel so alone. And so, here I am, hoping that somehow putting my words into writing will help me to heal.
I will go further into my story at other times, but here is the short version in numbers:
14 months trying to get pregnant
7 months before my first pregnancy
12 weeks at the time of my first miscarriage
2 D&C procedures performed in the hospital
3 months until my 2nd pregnancy
6 weeks when I heard the heartbeat
8 weeks at the time of my second miscarriage
1 more D&C in the hospital
8 ultrasounds in 6 months
1 appointment with a fertility specialist
5 times that I've had my blood drawn in the past month
0 days where I have not thought about how much this all SUCKS
And, there it is. In writing. Like I said, I know it could be worse, but right now, this is my story. It sucks. And now I wait.
Do you have a story? I think the thing I have been searching for the most is community. I am yearning for shared experiences, stories with positive endings, and most of all: SUPPORT. I just want someone to understand. I want someone else to be pissed and sad and then pissed again, and to tell me that that's ok. So, what's your story?
And, my story is very different and yet similar to/from all the other women who are also struggling with this issue. Everyone who has been diagnosed with infertility has a slightly different story. Some women have been struggling for 10 years, and may view my struggle as "mild" or "not that big of a deal." But to me, it feels like a gut-wrenching, soul sucking journey that makes me feel so alone. And so, here I am, hoping that somehow putting my words into writing will help me to heal.
I will go further into my story at other times, but here is the short version in numbers:
14 months trying to get pregnant
7 months before my first pregnancy
12 weeks at the time of my first miscarriage
2 D&C procedures performed in the hospital
3 months until my 2nd pregnancy
6 weeks when I heard the heartbeat
8 weeks at the time of my second miscarriage
1 more D&C in the hospital
8 ultrasounds in 6 months
1 appointment with a fertility specialist
5 times that I've had my blood drawn in the past month
0 days where I have not thought about how much this all SUCKS
And, there it is. In writing. Like I said, I know it could be worse, but right now, this is my story. It sucks. And now I wait.
Do you have a story? I think the thing I have been searching for the most is community. I am yearning for shared experiences, stories with positive endings, and most of all: SUPPORT. I just want someone to understand. I want someone else to be pissed and sad and then pissed again, and to tell me that that's ok. So, what's your story?
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