After 3 years of trying, 2 major surgeries, umpteen million procedures, and countless hormone injections, I actually got pregnant naturally! The love my husband and I have for each other finally created life! I was a mom for 5 whole days.
This New Year’s Day, my husband and I decided we had finally had it with the suck-age of the fertility world. We were spent! He requested a 90 day break to get our finances back in order, my physical health back on par, and most importantly, my mental health. Three years of hormone fluctuations can really do a number on the female psychy. So, we took a break. Six weeks into our “break”, on Valentine’s Day, I found out I was pregnant for the first time in 3 years!
That day we were heading to meet our best friends at a winery in Spicewood so I thought ‘what better time than now to tell them’, right? I told them I had a surprise I’d been working on for years and I pulled the test out of my clutch and cried, “I’m pregnant!” My husband was shocked, one girlfriend hit the floor, and the other cried tears of joy and hugged me so tight I felt she was hugging my baby, too. Then, two days later we drove to Chappell Hill where my parents live and told my parents and my sisters who also cried tears of joy. This had been a long time coming!
Given that this was my first pregnancy and I was considered “high risk” as a frequent flyer at the fertility center, 48 hour lab draws are required. Monday’s lab draws rocked…these confirmed the pregnancy! For me, that was the moment it felt real! The phone call from a nurse saying, “Yep, you’re pregnant” was all I needed.
Instantly I was a mom.
I drove slower on the way home to Austin that day, refusing to put my baby’s life at risk. Song lyrics about love were suddenly about the life forming inside me instead. I was exhausted, but I knew that was a side effect of growing a human so I cherished being tired and smiled while taking a nap. I laid talking with my husband that night and no longer felt it was just us two. Suddenly, we were three.
Wednesday I went for my second set of blood draws, went to work, had dinner with my best friend, all the while walking on air, falling more in love with the life inside me every minute of each day.
Then, Thursday morning, I got a call from my nurse at Texas Fertility Center. I answered, “Hey, do you have good news for me?!” The silence on the other end was deafening and I felt like I’d been punched in the gut when she finally said, “Oh, I’m so sorry, but…”. Gulp. She informed me that my HCG levels (pregnancy hormone) should have doubled in 48 hours, but instead mine were dropping rapidly.
“What does this mean?! Am I pregnant or not?!”
The worst part of the response? “Yes, you’re still pregnant”. In fact, I’m pregnant as I type this; however, according to the nurse, I won’t be pregnant by Wednesday of this week. At least, they hope I’m not by Wednesday because if I am, that could mean an ectopic pregnancy, in which case I’d have to have it removed via surgery. Now that, I cannot emotionally handle. They explained my pregnancy is “disappearing”…possibly a poor quality egg…sometimes these things happen…it’s nothing that I did…this just wasn’t it…blah blah blah. I heard the words, but it eventually started to sound like a recording and I completely spaced out. All I wanted to do was scream.
You mean, the life I thought I would get to introduce to my family will have “disappeared” by Wednesday? The life I loved with every part of my being will be gone midweek? I won’t get to hold him? See him? Meet him?
Some friends have tried to help me cope with this by saying…
- “The fact you got pregnant is a great sign”
- “This just wasn’t your baby”
- “Isn’t it better that you found out now and not 15-20 weeks in?”
And I get where they’re coming from; it’s coming from love, but what is hard for people who have not been through this to realize is, I was a mother to this being. I loved, nurtured, and hosted this potential life. I am grieving what could have been, what might have been, and what was. However odd that may sound, I’m grieving deeper than I’ve ever grieved for anyone I’ve ever known in the flesh.
Thursday night I went to bed crying. Friday I woke up choking on the tears I was crying in my sleep. Saturday I cried all the way to zumba, but I did zumba. I cried all the way home from zumba, but then I laughed at lunch with a friend. I laughed over cocktails, but then I cried on the way home. It’s now Sunday night and I’ve only cried once today, which means there’s hope; however, I’m still wondering when I’ll feel it’s safe to dream again. When will my hope to be a mom return? When will I see a plus sign on a pregnancy test and not expect the worst?
I think miscarriages are hard no matter what, but I think they’re especially hard when compounded with years and years of fertility treatments, countless diagnoses, and disappointments. I’m sharing this not because I want sympathy, but because I felt very alone in this struggle because no one really talks about it! No one in my inner circle has experienced this (that I know of) and it’s not something people openly admit to having gone through. I’ve been an open book regarding my journey towards motherhood and I feel strongly that my story has helped others with theirs. This is just one chapter in that book and this chapter SUCKS! I was a mom for 5 days…the best 5 days of my entire life, but…
When does my happy come back?