February 11, 2004
what happened
Saturday, Jan. 31st, I began some light spotting. It was intermittent and clearly old blood, so I wasn't too concerned. Spotting at that stage of a pregnancy isn't uncommon, especially shortly after the ovum has implanted itself. Monday, Feb. 2nd, my blood test showed that progesterone was ok and my hcg was up as well, so I still wasn't worried. Tuesday, I was still spotting and starting to cramp painfully. Wednesday morning I called Dr. Vaughn and expressed my concerns. He told me to go ahead and have my blood drawn again. Wednesday afternoon we learned that my hcg level had dropped from over 200 (Monday) to 180. I was miscarrying. I was told to stop the progesterone supplements and have my blood drawn again on the following Monday.
Dale and I were heartbroken. We still are. We cried, and held each other, and cried some more. All I could think about is that we were losing our baby. The baby we've struggled to create for two years. Aside from some breast tenderness, I hadn't even gotten to enjoy feeling pregnant. I know that's for the best, better than if we'd lost the baby later in the pregnancy, but that doesn't make it hurt any less.
I avoided it for a couple of days, but I finally looked up information on miscarriages. Friends and family who'd experienced miscarriages shared their stories. Dale's aunt and uncle sent a lovely tulip bouquet. I placed it on the table at the base of the stairs. I put the card that came with it into a drawer. I learned that maybe as many as 1/3 of all pregnancies end in miscarriage, sometimes without the woman even knowing she was pregnant. I learned that with the multitude of activity taking place in a developing embryo, any of a million things can go wrong, and if something does, it's the body's natural response to spontaneously abort. I learned that there was nothing I did wrong and nothing I could have done to prevent the miscarriage. But it still hurts so bad, so fucking bad, and I'd do anything to be able to go back and fix it.
Everyone reassured me that it wasn't my fault and I wasn't to blame, and at least we know now that I can get pregnant, but I didn't fucking care. I just wanted my baby back. OUR baby. I had to keep reminding myself that it was our baby, and Dale was hurting as much as I am.
This past Monday (Feb. 9th) I had blood drawn again. In the mean time, the bleeding increased drastically Sunday night and cramps had become almost unbearable. My hcg had only dropped from 180 to 177, so Dr. Vaughn wanted me to come in for an exam. I was scheduled for Tuesday afternoon. Dale wasn't able to accompany to the exam, which bothered him. And I wish he could have been with me.
Dr. Vaughn did an ultrasound. He said my uterus looked fine, my right ovary was fine, my left ovary had a huge cyst that took up half of it, but that didn't concern Dr. Vaughn very much. He didn't see any trace of the pregnancy, but he's concerned because my hcg level had dropped so little. There's a possibility that the pregnancy could be ectopic (in my fallopian tube), so he wants to retest my hcg tomorrow (Thursday). If it's dropped, he's content to let the miscarriage take its time. If it's plateaued, I may need medical intervention, which could be medication or a surgical procedure, likely a D&C.
A Dilation and Curettage basically involves dilating the cervix and then scraping out the contents of the uterus. A D&C is often utilized in miscarriages, but I am appalled at the thought of having to have a D&C. It's also a common abortion procedure. While I'm far from anti-abortion, I hate the idea that my baby, or what's left of it, will be taken from me in such a manner. I may not have a choice though.
Like many others have already, Dr. Vaughn assured me that the miscarriage wasn't my fault and was probably for the best. Then he reiterated that we now know I can get pregnant and just what it will take. I'm already scared that this will happen again though.