Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Mom to Baby K
Lost on approximately October 9, 2009 at 9 weeks gestation

My husband and I began dating in 2000 while I was a junior and he was a senior in high school. We waited until July 2, 2005 to get married. Six months later, we were pregnant with our daughter. We had no trouble conceiving her, and my pregnancy was relatively easy. She was born on October 11, 2006 after being induced for extremely low amniotic fluid. We decided to not try for another baby until after she turned two. I was terrified of having 'two under two,' but little did I know what was in store for us.

In December of 2008, we decided to stop using birth control and to start trying for baby #2.

Several months into trying to conceive, I started becoming frustrated. My cycles were terribly long, so I began to chart my temperatures. That information told my doctor and me that I was not ovulating. I started in Clomid in July 2009 to force ovulation. My first cycle on it, I developed a very large cyst on my ovary, requiring us to take a break from trying for another baby. At the end of August, my period still had not made an appearance, so I began Provera. Eleven days after taking my last pill, my period still had not arrived. My friend suggested that I take a pregnancy test, but I thought there was no way it would be positive. I took a test shortly after this conversation, and I was shocked to find that, very obviously, I was pregnant.

The date of my 'Big Fat Positive' was on September 9, 2009. My husband was away on a hunting trip, so I decided to wait to tell him when he got home. I announced our pregnancy to my husband on September 11, 2009. My husband is a firefighter/EMT, so I wanted to give him something to celebrate on that day, rather than just dwelling on the 343 brothers he lost on 9/11. I made our daughter a shirt to wear that stated, "Big sister in training." Needless to say, we were thrilled.
A couple of weeks after getting a positive pregnancy test, I started to have some brown spotting. I was concerned, because I never had anything like that with my first pregnancy. My doctor's office got me in very quickly for a sonogram. The baby was developing normally and had a strong, healthy heartbeat. I was 7 1/2 weeks pregnant. They printed a picture for me to take home and told me that the brown spotting was okay, and not to worry unless the spotting turned red.

Around 11:00 pm on October 12, 2009, I went to the bathroom and saw blood. I immediately began crying and ran to find my phone. My husband was on duty and undoubtedly asleep at the fire station. Thankfully, he had his cell phone on and answered. He told me to call the on-call doctor and tell him what was going on, then to call him right back. It took a little while for the on-call to return my phone call, of course. When he finally responded, he said that the bleeding was probably a bad sign, but there wasn't anything they would be able to do to stop a loss so early in the pregnancy. I had an appointment the next afternoon for what should have been my first OB checkup, so the doctor told me to keep it and wait to be seen until then. I called my husband to relay what the doctor said and attempted to go to sleep. The next morning, the bleeding had stopped, so I felt hopeful.

When I arrived at my OB's office, I asked the receptionist if they knew I'd called to talk to the on-call about bleeding the night before. Her tone immediately changed. She asked me to have a seat, and that they would be with me right away. I also remember that she called me, "Sweetheart," in a sad voice. I sat for a few minutes, tears welling in my eyes. I looked around to see numerous pregnant women, rubbing their bellies. Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long. My doctor took me in and spoke to me in the same way that the receptionist had. She did an internal exam and then sent me over to radiology for another sonogram.

I was, again, taken in immediately to have an ultrasound. I told myself that I would not look at the screen, fearing the worst. The tech was very quiet during the abdominal scan. She then did a vaginal scan, saying that she could get a better picture. After she got what she needed, she stepped out to allow me to dress again and to speak with the doctor reading the ultrasound. I sat in the darkened room with my baby's pictures on the screen. I couldn't help but look, even though I told myself that I wouldn't. On the screen was my baby. He or she had grown a lot in just two weeks, so I was a little bit hopeful again. I noted that the top of the picture looked as though the amniotic sac was caved in a bit. I hoped that whatever was wrong could be fixed. The tech came back into the room and sent me back to my doctor's office.
I didn't have to wait to be seen this time. I was immediately whisked into the exam room. My doctor entered and asked if the tech had told me anything. I shook my head no. My doctor took a breath and said, "I'm so sorry, but your baby does not have a heart beat." She went on to tell me that the baby had passed away at about nine weeks--five days prior. I didn't cry when she told me, but I was numb. She asked me if I wanted to have a natural miscarriage or if I wanted to have a D&C. She explained that a natural miscarriage could take a few weeks to begin and would be quite painful and difficult. I told her I didn't know what I wanted to do, that I needed to talk to my husband. She said she understood and that I could call to make arrangements at any time. My husband was keeping our daughter occupied so that I could be seen, so I was alone when finding out this information.

I had to call my husband and wait for him to arrive back at the doctor's office. I sat outside on a bench and sent mass text messages. A couple of people called me back, but I did not answer. My husband finally arrived. I got into the car and said, "The baby is gone," and broke into uncontrollable sobs. My husband and daughter were hungry, so we went to Quizno's. I continued to cry, so I wore my sunglasses inside. I tried to eat, but the food did not have any flavor. After we arrived at home, my friend and pastor asked if she could pay us a visit. She counseled us and prayed with us. After she left, I immediately went to bed. I called my husband in, and we decided that I should have a D&C. I called my doctor's office and set up an appointment at the surgical center for the next afternoon--my 26th birthday.

After my appointments, I noticed that I felt a little bit crampy. I assumed that it was because I had so many exams in one day. Around midnight, the cramps became much stronger and I recognized that I was in labor. I breathed through the contractions and suddenly felt a 'pop'. I rushed to the bathroom and discovered that I was losing a lot of blood. I stayed in the bathroom for quite some time, allowing the bleeding to slow down. I put a large pad in and went back to bed. The contractions continued and I felt another pop. This process of resting and then running to the bathroom went on most of the night. Since I was having surgery the next day, I was not allowed to eat or drink anything after midnight. Eventually, I felt extremely dizzy and thought I may pass out. I laid on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor until the sensation passed. Around 6:00 am, the contractions finally slowed and were tolerable enough for me to sleep.

I woke a few hours later and called my doctor's office. I was unsure of what my next step should be. They asked me to come in for another ultrasound to determine if I needed to go ahead with the D&C. This time, we left our daughter with my mom and my husband was with me in the room. Also, I resolved not to look at the screen and kept it. As we were walking out of the radiology department, my doctor's office called to tell me that there was enough tissue left to go ahead with the surgery. As we walked through the hospital, I became angry. I said to my husband,"We lost the baby. That's bad enough. Then, I have a natural miscarriage. Now, I still have to have a D&C. Happy freakin' birthday to me!"

We checked into the surgical hospital and were treated very well. The nurses were sweet, the anesthesiologist was funny, and I felt as good as I could in that situation. I was nervous because I'd never been under anesthesia before, but everyone made me feel okay about it. After the surgery, we went to my mom's house and I slept on the couch. My husband went back into town to get my pain medication. He also brought me a birthday cake.

In just a few weeks, we will be reaching the one-year anniversary of our loss. Unfortunately, we have yet to have another pregnancy. I continue on fertility treatments, but am beginning to lose hope that our daughter will have a sibling and that we'll ever hold another baby of our own. Some days are better than others. I appreciate my daughter and husband more now than I ever have, and for that, I am thankful. My husband and I are closer than before, and I thought we were very solid before the miscarriage.

If you are reading this and have suffered a loss, you are not alone. Big, big virtual ((hugs)) and prayers that you will have a successful pregnancy very soon.
and can be contacted at mrskvacik@gmail.com


Stephanie said...

Your story seriously brought me to tears. I am so sorry for everything that you've gone through. I know your beautiful daughter will have a sibling some day. (((hugs)))

Carmelita Goossen said...

The guy I am currently dating has a twin sister. She and her husband were thrilled to learn they were expecting this summer. Unfortunately sometimes God has different plans. May God surround you both with his grace. Have faith through it all, for God is Love and He will never give you more than you can handle. Blessings!!!

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