Please send any positive thoughts you can spare along to us – we’re in need of them right now.
December 6, 2012
About three years ago, I had a miscarriage. It was devastating, and something I would never wish on my worst enemy.
So, here we are, three years later, going through it again.
We found out we were pregnant about a week after Evan’s 2nd birthday. The timing weirded me out a bit because it was so close to when we had our first miscarriage (I know it shouldn’t matter, but all logic flies out the window after you have a miscarriage), but I was having strong symptoms and my beta levels were doubling on schedule. Everything was pointing toward a healthy pregnancy.
That is, until last week, when I had an ultrasound. I scheduled one early – at about 8 weeks – because that’s what we did with Evan to make sure things were going okay after the first miscarriage. When we got the results (baby measuring a week behind, low heart rate of 86), we were saddened, but still weren’t counting ourselves out. After all, u/s dating at such young fetal ages can have large errors. We could explain things away.
Then we had a follow-up ultrasound this week, and the results were conclusive: the baby had stopped growing at about 7 weeks and the heartbeat was gone.
Then the world crashes down. Again. The worst thing this time around is I still have pregnancy symptoms, my temperatures are still high, and I have had no bleeding or cramping yet. I’m experiencing a missed miscarriage, where your body doesn’t realize the baby has died. If I didn’t have my ultrasound, I would be thinking that everything was perfectly fine right now. I might have to either take medication or have a procedure done to “assist”the miscarriage along.
With this, all the worries crop back up, along with some new ones: this is two miscarriages now, what does that mean? Did I wait too long to have children? Will I be able to get pregnant again? Will I be able to stay pregnant again?
I’m thankful that we have Evan this time around – to keep our minds off things, to force us to keep some sort of normalcy in our lives, and to know that we have at least one amazing, healthy, crazy child to love.