So on day 29, I got a call from my doctor’s office…the blood test I took the day before? Positive! I am pregnant! My beta was on the low side of normal, which she said wasn’t necessarily alarming, and probably due to the fact that it was still very early. She recommended a repeat within two days to make sure it doubled and to follow up with the reproductive endocrinologist going forward.
The second Beta was fine, as was the first ultrasound. I am at 7 weeks now. And on Tuesday of this week, we had the second ultrasound, where we could see a teeny tiny flutter of a heartbeat on the monitor. I don’t think I’ve ever been so relieved in my life. Last time, we did not make it to that point and I was so, so afraid, that we would go in there and the ultrasound would reveal that while I was pregnant, I was no longer.
Last time, I started very lightly spotting around week 9. I had friends who had that early on as well and absolutely nothing was wrong and they carried a healthy baby to term, so I wasn’t overly alarmed. I did call my doctor about halfway through the week and started to get a little worried when they wanted me in right away for an ultrasound. Their office tech was gone for the day, so they sent me over to the hospital lab.
I still was so sure that nothing was wrong. In filling in my paperwork, I confidently ticked off the 1 pregnancy and 0 miscarriage boxes. Nope, no miscarriages for me, we are just fine over here, thanks.
The whole thing was just completely surreal, the doctor was running late, so the tech took me back and got me started. She was mostly quiet, because I guess as a tech, she is not supposed to make diagnoses…I should have had a clue when she rushed to assure me that the whoosh of sound that came up was my own pulse. But still, stubbornly, foolishly clinging to hope, I dismissed it. And then I had to sit there a good 15 minutes waiting for the Neonatal specialist to arrive.
He came in and started explaining in heavily accented English about how the size and development was at 6 weeks, not at 9 as it should be. It still wasn’t sinking in “…so I’m just a bit behind?” I thought. And then he starts spouting off statistics about how common miscarriages are and how woman are able to go on and have healthy pregnancies, etc., and that’s when I realized what he was telling me. Even though I thought I’d been pregnant all this time, the pregnancy had already ended 3 weeks ago.
So you can understand why I was freaking out about the upcoming second ultrasound. If there was no heartbeat by then, we were done. Again. All Thanksgiving weekend, I had horrible nightmares. Every time I lay down to sleep, my heart would start to race and I’d have a near panic attack thinking about the possibility that the ultrasound would be silent and still.
I made Miguel come with me this time, because I really did not know if I’d even be able to get myself out of there if the news was bad. It was totally worth it when he looked at the ultrasound wand and was all “he’s doing WHAT with that?” And then the lights came down, and the doctor immediately pointed out the little flutter of a heartbeat inside the tiny, unrecognizable as a baby, ball of cells. Having achieved cardiac activity, our chances of something now going wrong are significantly lower.
I was officially discharged to my regular OB and am seeing them for my first prenatal appointment on Monday.
Miguel has been telling everyone he can find now that he considers it to be “safe.” From the beginning I told my best friend, my sister, and Miguel’s sister-the people I would lean on for emotional support if things went south again. The fact that I told his sister is hush-hush. He does not know how much I’ve talked to her about everything that is going on-I suspect he would be pissed off/embarrassed about it so I’ve just kept it to myself. And then I couldn’t leave her hanging now that I am pregnant. We are going to tell the families at Christmas…my poor SIL is going to have fake it big time.
Even though we’ve gotten to this point, I still do not feel entirely safe telling a bunch of other people, and I’ll be waiting until the new year (plus I would feel bad if God and everybody knew before our families). I’ve told one other good friend (Hi Maybelle!) but that will be it until after the holidays. I’m thinking about mailing our holiday cards out slightly late and including a message about how we’ll be having Christmas in July (did I mention? my due date is July 18th!).
I’m still feeling very cautious and don’t know if I’ll ever relax and really enjoy the pregnancy like I would have if I hadn’t had a miscarriage. At this point, it’s still earlier than I made it last time (theoretically, if not technically), and as far as I can tell my symptoms seem about the same. My boobs hurt. A LOT. But I’m not having any morning sickness really. I feel a bit queasy off and on, but I haven’t thrown up at all. I’m always having stomach trouble so who knows if it’s even pregnancy related. Last time, I did not have any morning sickness at all.
I know I should be grateful that I feel good, but I recently read another blogger who had a miscarriage at right about the same # of weeks as I did and she knew that something was wrong early on because she wasn’t sick. Her sister, who had had several miscarriages, reported the same thing. So I would almost feel better if I was sick as a dog. On the other hand, my SIL was violently ill for one pregnancy and not at all for the other, and both were otherwise fine pregnancies so it could mean nothing at all. Every pregnancy is different.
So anyway…by turns elated and terrified over here.