March: A Missed Miscarriage and a Move
It’s mid-March and I’m finally, finally feeling energetic, HAPPY, hopeful, excited for spring and what’s to come, and more like myself.
I found out in January that we were expecting. It was the LONGEST wait ever to get to the point of that very first eight week sonogram! I was ravenous, eating two breakfasts, two dinners…I had gained si pounds. I was winded going up stairs. EXHAUSTED tot he point of beaching myself on the sofa as soon as I fed the girls lunch and got through the first half of the day, and even shutting eye around 9 pm some nights- ungodly hours for a night owl like myself. I kept asking myself was this how I felt with the girls? I felt six months pregnant already! It felt off. I was extremely excited and we had finally found a home worth sticking a sign in our own yard for. A HUGE home with plenty of room to grow.
Our first offer on that home was declined, and things sort of unraveled in baby land. I was set to have my first pre-natal appointment the week of Valentine’s Day! I ws planning how to tell the girls they were going to be big sisters. I spilled the beans to close friends, my mom and sister, and a couple confidents (friends and teachers) at school drop offs. I was unusually nervous for this appointment. I remember that when I had set the appointment with a nurse over the phone. I kept saying this time felt different and I felt VERY pregnant. I’ll never forget she told me, “Well, not to scare you, but it could be like me, and there were two in there.”
I kept telling my husband he didn’t need to come to the appointment. This wasn’t his first rodeo. I knew what to do, what to expect. I just needed to hear that first heart beat and get the “proof.” The confirmation to go along with the positive pregnancy test, the bloated tummy, the sleepy face and saggy, sluggish bod I was dragging around for two months. My husband, the great man that he is, insisted. He in fact was firm and demanded I STOP telling him not to come.
So, we had my sister come to watch the girls and we set out for the appointment. I remember I wore a tight fitted black knit dress, a “maternity” piece I bought preemptively on the internet one weekend he was out of town. Again, thinking of a possible announcement photo to finally expose the reason for my fleshy middle. A black background would be nice against that first profile pic from a sonogram tech.
On the way to the appointment I told my husband I was extremely unsure about this visit. Maybe it was intuition.
After some minutes of fumbling around, some confused behaviors, me emptying my bladder and having a check again, an awkward knock on the door to the room from another nurse asking for the machine to be wheeled out for her to use on someone else, and finally the call in for a doctor to find a fetal pole with no avail, I was told they were unable to detect a heart beat through vaginal ultrasound. I just remember asking shakily, “Is it a miscarriage?” She said, “We;;, I want to be wrong… but….we’ll need you to go to radiology to find out more. There wasn’t any availability at that location, so I had to dress, drive and get probed again at another clinic with a radiology tech, then get my blood drawn.
It was a horrific, clumsy first visit I hope to never live again. The next morning I received a call from a nurse explaining they found two fetal poles, TWO, a sac, a yolk, and my HCG (pregnancy hormone) was 135,000!!! Extremely high. They wanted my blood to be drawn two days later because if you are indeed experiencing a normal pregnancy it should increase, double, every 48 hours. She mentioned that because mine was so high, she wasn’t expecting it to double, but it shouldn’t decline. Well, the next result of the HCG revealed it had, and now it was 129,000. I demanded a doctor appointment to understand what exactly was happening. I had no signs of a miscarriage. No bleeding, cramping. My boobs were HUGE and sore…all the pregnancy symptoms still in tact.
That Friday, I was told it was a missed miscarriage. The doctor then proceeded to push the drugs on me to pas it, and offered to do the sonogram again for me. It had only been three days so I knew it wouldn’t show much so I refused his offer. I also refused the drugs. I did not want to terminate a potentially viable pregnancy. I had to be SURE. I had so many “what-ifs” in my mind. I researched to the point of being obnoxious and irrational. I scheduled a second opinion with a female doctor at a different clinic a week later.
In that week’s time. I went through the spectrum of emotions from sadness, anger, confusion, to eventually ending up with coming to terms with it, understanding. This happens. It happens. Miscarriages are common, prevalent, unavoidable, nature’s way. I had it in my mind by the time that appointment came that it was indeed a miscarriage and I had planned to take the drugs to pass it rather than wait and see naturally.
It was confirmed and I took the medication that evening. Over that weekend a lot of it had passed. By mid week I was back at pilates. Still processing what the hell just happened. I was pregnant. I was excited. Happy. Planning a future. Then- erased. Squashed. Just vanished more like it. And as quick as it came, it passed. I was waiting to share, then there was nothing to share. It was all so disheartening. But I was understanding of it all mostly.
That day I came out of pilates, I received a text that our second offer, on that big house with all the rooms to grow, was accepted. We had to sell our house. We listed our home that Saturday and it was sold three days later. I felt out of control, and all the while my hormones took a nose dive from 129,000 to 500 something a week later. Last week it was 100 something, and I did a blood draw today, hopefully my last this round, to see it at a pre-pregnancy level. It has been a wild beginning to a new year to say the least. So many changes. A kaleidoscope of emotions. A ton of anger and stress flung out at those I love most around me.
But now, as of the last couple of weeks, I feel so joyful for spring to be here soon. I was scared to leave my home. My very first house. The home we made and brought two beautiful baby girls home to. And thank my God for these two girls, because I might have crashed and spun out further and faster had I not had their little jokes and voices, their drawings and funny phrases, their sweet smells when I kissed them goodnight…
One day at school pick up, during the week I was passing the miscarriage, and I checked Remy’s school folder in the car, as I do, and there was a drawing with this caption, “I went to the doctor with Baba to see my baby brother.” There was a sketch accompanying it of Baba holding a swaddled babe. I smiled, and snickered a little, not without a tear.
finally feel calmer, more peaceful, more in control of myself, since passing that pregnancy. Almost relieved to have that poisoned, troubled, abnormal piece of cells and tissues leave my body. I haven’t wanted to “mourn” or commemorate the loss. Maybe that is a place that will come? Perhaps I wasn’t attached yet. Maybe I was still in disbelief I was even pregnant. I think ultimately it comes to intuition. Something felt “off” from the start.
I am happy to be moving forward. Instead of obsessing over the things about this place, this house that I am leaving behind and losing, I made a conscious decision, after first phoning a friend and completely losing my mind, that I would change my attitude and look at what we are gaining as a family in the new house. IF not for myself, then for my two girls who look to me for comfort and solace in a time of flux. This move is proving to be a strain on their tiny sentimental hearts because they love their neighbors and home so much. So do I. We have a lot to give up here, but trying to look ahead at the possible memories and adventures we all have to make together somewhere new. Change is hard. I think I rather hate it the older I get.
So here we are, getting ready to close on our home here at the end of this month, and on the new home the day after that. We are so fortunate and so very blessed to be able to have these opportunities even come our way. I am rather humbled by it all. I never thought or imagined to be in a situation where we moved “up.” Thank you to my husband who works so hard to offer this to his girls. I would have been happy here, in my home, for much longer, but with this little blip of a babe that happened, it sort of opened my eyes to things that were sort of missing here. A room for a baby first and foremost.
Buckling up for a bumpy ride for April ahead. Today is my eight year anniversary. I really do believe EIGHT will be great. There were some pretty dark months sprinkled back in there, and I am trying to meditate on HOPE, HAPPY, HEALTH and just really want to let the Lord lead us into something new and different to grow as a family. Be it a family of four, or more, I know I have more than I could ever be able to express gratitude for.
The other night before bed, Remy got sad about moving away from her house and her friends…her little sniffles are enough to make me break out of the contract let me tell you. I told her to pray about anything that worries her. I never had told her she could do that before. That she had that power. Prayer. She said, “Really? Anything?” “Yup.” “Even for a baby brother?” Oh boy, literally…haha! I could sure use a dose of her determination. She is the sweetest. She is enough. Arlo is more than enough. Haha! One more, two more, would be extravagant almost, and also perfect, if it’s meant to be.
Here’s to spring! Just around the bend…
The girls and I had a weekend without Baba who had a coaching tournament out of state, so I hunkered down and removed ALL the pictures, mirrors and wall hangings and bubble wrapped them. Damn, you don’t realize how MUCH CRAP you have just on your walls! I decluttered and took a car load to the thrift store for donation. This was the second car full of STUFF I have donated and I have to say it feels AWESOME to let go! I also made sure to take breaks this weekend and get some fresh air. One such afternoon, below, we went for a treat and a coffee for mama before having dinner at my mother in law’s. We also got down to City park and D-Bar for St. Patrick’s Day sweets. Another favorite thing we did was rummage through an antique shop I had been wanting to visit for YEAS and never went in until now. Of course the minute we are moving I want to visit EVERYTHING around me.