I hadn't even had a normal cycle after
my first trimester miscarriage when I
discovered that I was pregnant again.
I was anxious and hopeful, and wished
every day for this pregnancy to
stick. I was 34 years old and was
hoping to have my first child before I
reached 35.
I was thrilled after an ultrasound at
7 weeks revealed a heartbeat. The
doctor said I should relax, that
everything should be just fine.
At 13 weeks I was on the subway and
felt a sudden gush between my legs. I
was wearing tights, and my legs felt
warm and sticky. When I got to the
restaurant, I ran to the bathroom and
saw my underpants stained bright pink
with blood. I was panicked but knew
that there was nothing to be done--if
I was miscarrying they couldn't save
the baby at this point. The next
morning the ultrasound showed a
subchorionic hematoma, but also showed
the baby alive and kicking around and
developing normally. I was incredibly
relieved. The doctor ordered me on
bedrest for two weeks.
I would wake at night to find my
sheets covered in blood periodically.
It was terrifying. Then I would have
periods of days and weeks with no
bleeding. Frequent ultrasound
screenings throughout the second
trimester revealed our little baby to
be developing normally, kicking and
moving around inside of me. My doctor
and radiologist were very hopeful. I
had started to feel the baby kicking
and my husband and I had begun to read
the baby Curious George stories, as we
learned that by 19 weeks they can hear
sounds outside of the womb.
I meditated and visualized my
placenta attached firmly to my uterine
wall, visualized my newborn baby, what
it would look like, my eyes, his
mouth, grandma's ears......
On a Friday December thriteenth (it
would have to be Friday the
thirteenth!)I went to the mall to
finish up some Christmas Shopping and
noticed a tightness around my lower
belly. I went home and went to bed,
only to awaken at 11pm in a pool of
hot pink liquid. I flipped out, my
heart stopped, and I started shaking
all over.
At the hospital, the ultrasound
revealed that the baby was alive and
moving, but that the fluid was very
low. My water had broken, and I was
at risk for infection. The doctors
explained all of the risks involved
with continuing with the pregnancy,
that the baby's lungs could not
develop without fluid, that if the
baby survived to 24 weeks it would be
at high risk for brain damage, cystic
fibrosis, death---And the baby was
breach, so if I did make it to 24
weeks they would have to perform a
verticle C-section which would put my
uterus at risk for bursting with a
subsequent pregnancy. Everything they
told me was awful, and all the while I
felt my little booboo baby kicking
inside of me the whole time. The
doctors said I could choose to induce
labor or to have a D&E, to end the
pregnancy, but that I would most
likely go into labor in the next week
or so. I steeled myself for the
eventual loss, but nothing could have
prepared me for what was coming. They
continued to monitor me for infection.
I think I had been hoping beyond hope
that somehow my amniotic sac would
repair, that I would be the 1 in a
thousand whose sac would refill with
fluid. After a second ultrasound
revealed that the fluid was still low,
the high risk doc said I would most
likely go into labor in the next two
weeks if I weren't infected by then.
She said the baby would most likely
not survive. I cried and cried, as I
watched my baby moving for the last
time on ultrasound.
My doctor came in and held me.
That night I awoke in terrible pain.
I thought something was going to come
shooting out of my back side. I was
in labor for about 7 hours with no
epidural-- I still don't know why the
nurse was not able to get a doctor
sooner. I delievered the baby on
December 18th-- a boy.
I am still dealing with the physical
and emotional aftermath of losing this
very wanted baby. I can't talk to my
friends who are pregnant, and it seems
like they all are. I can't attend a
baby shower, I can't handle seeing a
new born. I don't know when I will
ever be able to be normal again, I am
forever changed by this loss. I feel
so empty and so sad-- my poor baby
never had a chance. I know this pain
will go away someday-- I just can't
see the light at the end of this
tunnel right now.
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