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Kelly
Mom to four baby angels
Who went to heaven March 2009, May 2009,
October 2009, & May 2010
Millersburg, PA
Millersburg, PA
Four first trimester miscarriages, two heartbeats that were once strong that stopped beating, no living children.
I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling sad. I’m tired of wondering “what if”. I’m tired of hating to leave the house for fear of seeing infants and wondering, “would my baby look like that?” or, “would my baby be that big now?” I’m tired of seeing pregnant women and feeling like I’m going to crumble. I’m tired of avoiding family functions because my sister-in-law and I shared a due date from my first miscarriage and she went on to deliver prematurely, on the day that I had a D&E for my third loss.
I want to be able to watch TV again and not have to always feel compelled to change the channel because of mommy messages in shows or daddies sharing birth videos online. I want to feel normal again. I want to be a loving wife again to my husband. Hell, I just want to feel normal.
After I found the love of my life at the age of 33, my life changed forever. We started trying to have a baby the month after we married, in July of 2008. When we found out I was pregnant in March of 2009, we were over the moon ecstatic. We immediately started talking about boy and girl names, a nursery, looking at furniture…all the normal stuff. We even made the two hour drive to see my mother and share the news with her, on the very night that we found out I was pregnant. I’m an only child and this would be her first grandchild.
Unfortunately, my betas never got off the ground the way they should have and I miscarried. The very next cycle, we got pregnant again. I started spotting early on and even though ultrasounds showed that things were a little behind, I was assured that all was just fine. Ultimately, it wasn’t. My body, however, didn’t realize that the pregnancy wasn’t viable and I ended up needing to have a D&E. The pain I felt in the hospital as they were wheeling me in the OR was unimaginable. I just sobbed and sobbed. When I woke up, a nurse was standing over me, rubbing my arm. She said, “It’s all over”, meaning the procedure. I immediately started sobbing again, knowing that there was no more hope and no more praying.
We took a brief break the summer of 2009 and learned that I had two clotting disorders (Factor V and MTHFR, both heterogeneous). My OB/GYN prescribed baby aspirin and prometrium for the next pregnancy. I was pregnant again in August of 2009, which was our first cycle trying again. We were so hopeful. After all, wasn’t I “fixed”?
I’m a teacher, which makes this all the more difficult. I have to put on a happy face on a daily basis and, if I can’t muster up a happy face, I at least can’t crumble in class. I went to the bathroom and noticed that I was spotting, the same as I had during my 2nd miscarriage. I got in for an ultrasound that evening and was told that all was fine. I was five and a half weeks. However, the spotting continued.
At the follow-up ultrasound four days later, I was told by my OB/GYN that the growth was too far behind and therefore the pregnancy wasn’t viable. He wanted to discuss options but it was too much for my head to grasp. I was supposed to be fixed was what I wanted to cry to anyone who would listen. My husband and I left to get away for a few days, or so we thought.
The call came the next day that my betas were still rising and that I should come in for another ultrasound. I knew that the pregnancy still could turn out to be unviable. As I lay on the table sobbing, my husband burst into tears. When I finally brought myself to look at the screen, I saw my baby’s heart beating away. It was a normal heartbeat, nice and strong. I was still measuring a few days behind but was told that it was within the margin of error and all was good.
At our follow-up a week later, my baby’s heart stopped beating. I had my second D&E three days later.
In December of 2009, I found my new RE. She found scar tissue inside my uterus and after two hysteroscopies, a balloon in my uterus and a tail hanging out of me for a week, the scar tissue was finally gone. It was recommended that we do Lovenox injections the next pregnancy. Again, we thought I was “fixed” and I got pregnant our first cycle trying again.
My fourth miscarriage was pretty much a carbon copy of my third, right down to the it’s not viable, yes it is, no it isn’t yo-yo roller coaster. There was a heartbeat again, which I couldn’t bring myself to look at. It’s difficult enough to know that what was once growing inside me had died, I didn’t need the image seared in my head again.
Following our last miscarriage, I took a month off of school. I started seeing my therapist more regularly. I went on anti-depressants. A new RE has now diagnosed me with elevated natural killer cells and recommends infusions before I get pregnant again and during the pregnancy.
I’m not sure if I want to keep trying. I was supposed to be “fixed” before and wasn’t. I don’t know if I can handle being pregnant again and all of the worrying that will go with it. Every moment of every day felt like an eternity before; what would it be like now? I’ll be turning 36 next month and don’t have the luxury though of waiting. Maybe this is just a sign that I’m not meant to be a mother. Hell, my own body killed what was growing inside it. Perhaps I should take it as it is and stop trying to swim in the ocean. I’m so afraid of the waves washing me away. Perhaps I should just sit on the shore.
*I wrote this all from my perspective. I have an incredibly supportive and loving husband but since this is about including myself as a face of recurrent loss, I wanted to write it that way, too.
I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling sad. I’m tired of wondering “what if”. I’m tired of hating to leave the house for fear of seeing infants and wondering, “would my baby look like that?” or, “would my baby be that big now?” I’m tired of seeing pregnant women and feeling like I’m going to crumble. I’m tired of avoiding family functions because my sister-in-law and I shared a due date from my first miscarriage and she went on to deliver prematurely, on the day that I had a D&E for my third loss.
I want to be able to watch TV again and not have to always feel compelled to change the channel because of mommy messages in shows or daddies sharing birth videos online. I want to feel normal again. I want to be a loving wife again to my husband. Hell, I just want to feel normal.
After I found the love of my life at the age of 33, my life changed forever. We started trying to have a baby the month after we married, in July of 2008. When we found out I was pregnant in March of 2009, we were over the moon ecstatic. We immediately started talking about boy and girl names, a nursery, looking at furniture…all the normal stuff. We even made the two hour drive to see my mother and share the news with her, on the very night that we found out I was pregnant. I’m an only child and this would be her first grandchild.
Unfortunately, my betas never got off the ground the way they should have and I miscarried. The very next cycle, we got pregnant again. I started spotting early on and even though ultrasounds showed that things were a little behind, I was assured that all was just fine. Ultimately, it wasn’t. My body, however, didn’t realize that the pregnancy wasn’t viable and I ended up needing to have a D&E. The pain I felt in the hospital as they were wheeling me in the OR was unimaginable. I just sobbed and sobbed. When I woke up, a nurse was standing over me, rubbing my arm. She said, “It’s all over”, meaning the procedure. I immediately started sobbing again, knowing that there was no more hope and no more praying.
We took a brief break the summer of 2009 and learned that I had two clotting disorders (Factor V and MTHFR, both heterogeneous). My OB/GYN prescribed baby aspirin and prometrium for the next pregnancy. I was pregnant again in August of 2009, which was our first cycle trying again. We were so hopeful. After all, wasn’t I “fixed”?
I’m a teacher, which makes this all the more difficult. I have to put on a happy face on a daily basis and, if I can’t muster up a happy face, I at least can’t crumble in class. I went to the bathroom and noticed that I was spotting, the same as I had during my 2nd miscarriage. I got in for an ultrasound that evening and was told that all was fine. I was five and a half weeks. However, the spotting continued.
At the follow-up ultrasound four days later, I was told by my OB/GYN that the growth was too far behind and therefore the pregnancy wasn’t viable. He wanted to discuss options but it was too much for my head to grasp. I was supposed to be fixed was what I wanted to cry to anyone who would listen. My husband and I left to get away for a few days, or so we thought.
The call came the next day that my betas were still rising and that I should come in for another ultrasound. I knew that the pregnancy still could turn out to be unviable. As I lay on the table sobbing, my husband burst into tears. When I finally brought myself to look at the screen, I saw my baby’s heart beating away. It was a normal heartbeat, nice and strong. I was still measuring a few days behind but was told that it was within the margin of error and all was good.
At our follow-up a week later, my baby’s heart stopped beating. I had my second D&E three days later.
In December of 2009, I found my new RE. She found scar tissue inside my uterus and after two hysteroscopies, a balloon in my uterus and a tail hanging out of me for a week, the scar tissue was finally gone. It was recommended that we do Lovenox injections the next pregnancy. Again, we thought I was “fixed” and I got pregnant our first cycle trying again.
My fourth miscarriage was pretty much a carbon copy of my third, right down to the it’s not viable, yes it is, no it isn’t yo-yo roller coaster. There was a heartbeat again, which I couldn’t bring myself to look at. It’s difficult enough to know that what was once growing inside me had died, I didn’t need the image seared in my head again.
Following our last miscarriage, I took a month off of school. I started seeing my therapist more regularly. I went on anti-depressants. A new RE has now diagnosed me with elevated natural killer cells and recommends infusions before I get pregnant again and during the pregnancy.
I’m not sure if I want to keep trying. I was supposed to be “fixed” before and wasn’t. I don’t know if I can handle being pregnant again and all of the worrying that will go with it. Every moment of every day felt like an eternity before; what would it be like now? I’ll be turning 36 next month and don’t have the luxury though of waiting. Maybe this is just a sign that I’m not meant to be a mother. Hell, my own body killed what was growing inside it. Perhaps I should take it as it is and stop trying to swim in the ocean. I’m so afraid of the waves washing me away. Perhaps I should just sit on the shore.
*I wrote this all from my perspective. I have an incredibly supportive and loving husband but since this is about including myself as a face of recurrent loss, I wanted to write it that way, too.
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2 comments:
Kelly,
I follow you and comment regularly on your blog, but I wanted to let you know here, again, that you are always in my thoughts.
You've been an inspiration to me and held me up through my own losses. I can only hope and pray that someday you find a happy resolution to all this crap. It is so unfair.
Big hugs,
Jo
Kelly, I am thinking of you. You've been through so much and you are braver than you know. This is tough stuff.
Hugs-
Jess
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