Miscarriage

Never again, I said to myself fighting back the flood of tears that wanted to pour from my eyes. I lay on the table looking dreadfully at the ultrasound screen. The blank ultrasound screen. I looked for some hope in the face of the ultrasound technician but saw only pity. When she said, “I am going to go get the doctor” I knew exactly what that meant, after all this was not my first run at this rodeo. It was actually my 9th ride at this rodeo and I was once again going to be thrown by the biggest bull in the place. I was again in the middle of a miscarriage.

My story begins like most women, I married the love of my life in my early 20?s and after a few years we decided that it was time to start a family. I don’t remember a time in my life that I didn’t want to be a mother. When I was a kid I would always be the mom when we played house. I babysat every chance I could and never passed up the opportunity to hold someone’s baby. My sister’s had babies on demand, my oldest sister always said her and her husband couldn’t drink out of the same water glass or she would be pregnant. So it only seemed natural to me that I would conceive immediately, and I did. I actually did not even know I was pregnant at the time of my first miscarriage, this is not uncommon though. I was working in a very busy Beauty Salon and had a crazy busy day, I felt fine, and had no indication of what was to come. I felt a sudden rush of warmth and I seriously thought I had lost control of my bladder. I ran to the back room only to find myself covered with blood. I sat down, suddenly feeling very lightheaded. I called my husband right away and then one of my co-workers came to check on me. She immediately asked me if I was miscarrying, I was clueless, that never even crossed my mind. When my husband arrived I was a wreck, I stood up and that is when the pain hit me. This was my first time being thrown from what was going to be a rough riding bull at this rodeo.

The doc I saw after assured me that this was a common thing and not to worry. I believed him. Two months later I was pregnant again. I didn’t even give a thought to my prior miscarriage. This time though, I felt pregnant. I had horrible morning sickness, I lost weight and actually only gained 5 pounds over my pre-pregnancy weight through out my whole pregnancy. I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy and my first miscarriage was erased from my memory. This little guy brought us such joy we thought we should add to the joy and have another baby. I became pregnant again immediately, but something was different this time. As hard as I tried to feel nauseated, I just didn’t. I knew from the get go something wasn’t quite right. It was then that memories from my first miscarriage started to resurface. We spent Christmas Eve with my husband’s family all the while I hid the fact that I was not doing well. I will spare you from the gory details of my miscarriage but I ended up spending Christmas Eve in the emergency room. The ER doc was very cold and not very comforting. This wonderful angel of a nurse held my hand while the doc examined me, I was in pain and was fidgeting. I said ”that hurts” and his reply was ”I know this is uncomfortable”, the nurse snapped back at him with “HOW THE HELL WOULD YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS!” I wish I would have gotten her name. I got home in time to watch my sweet little boy open his presents from Santa. I cried the entire time. I had suddenly felt the loss that I hadn’t felt the first time. I was again reassured that many women go through this and since I already had one healthy pregnancy this was probably something that wouldn’t happen again. Well it did, it actually happened 8 more times. In the middle of it all I had another beautiful baby, our little girl.

My final miscarriage was one that seemed like it was destined for success. I made it past the 12 week point and was assured everything was going as planned. I was scheduled for a level 2 ultrasound which actually takes a look not only inside the womb, but also inside the baby. So, there I was once again at the ultrasound table (my 18th time). The technician was scanning everything and I could see all the parts of the baby and the most important thing, the heart was beating. I was in my glory, then suddenly the technician said the dreaded words, “I am going to go get the doctor” I felt that familiar bucking from the nasty bull that had thrown me to the dirt so many times. When the doctor came in I was ready to vomit, and I felt very lightheaded. He started without skipping a beat and pointed out several “markers” they use when determining if a baby has a chromosomal abnormalities, in my case it was Down’s Syndrome. I had a great sense of relief at first, until he went on with all of the details about how many of these babies don’t live past their first year. I absorbed what information I could and ran to my car to cry my eyes out of my head. When I got home I quickly compared the ultrasound pictures from this baby with that of my daughter’s and there was definitely something wrong. My husband and I cried for days. My doctor scheduled me for an amniocentesis the next week. What a long weeks wait that was. Again I was on the ultrasound table. We were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Perinatologist. The ultrasound technician started the ultrasound to get placement of the baby so as not to poke the baby during the amniocentesis. I was afraid to look at the screen, he seemed to be taking a lot of passes and pictures over my belly. I took a deep breath and turned to look at the screen, I instantly blurted out, “There is no heartbeat” . My husband shot me a look and once again, the tech said ” I am going to go get the doctor.” When the technician left the room my husband sort of acted irritated with me that I pointed out that there was no heartbeat. He had actually never been to an ultrasound appointment with me before. If you can imagine that. So I was very well versed on what it should and shouldn’t look like on the screen. Soon my room was filled with doctors, nurses, another ultrasound tech and a genetics counselor. They all stared with hurt filled eyes at me for what seemed like hours. They all knew that this was not my first ride at the rodeo. I was at this point well into my 4th month of pregnancy and this was not going to be an easy miscarriage. At this point it was no longer called a miscarriage since the baby was now a fetus and no longer an embryo. My husband and I went home and shared the news with our kids, they were so excited for the new baby that I felt more sorry for them than myself, after all the bull had bucked me many times, and this was the first time they had to experience the pain along with me.
For tons of useful information on miscarriage and infertility, visit my blog at http://makelifegreat4u.com/Miscarriage-Help