First things first, I don't write this for sympathy, but to let people know my experience and to potentially help another who might go through this at some point in their life. You're not alone.
In thinking about when to start trying for another child, we figured we'd wait until at least our daughter's first birthday. As the time drew near, I wasn't really feeling it, so I figured it'd be later. But then at the beginning of last August, we were visiting some family that made a comment about looking forward to their second child getting older and able to play with their oldest so their oldest could stop driving them crazy, at least a little. From that, we discussed how we like the idea of our first two being a little closer so they can play together. This really reemphasized starting to try at G's first birthday.
After that trip, G and I went with my sister and her kids to California to visit my family. For some reason, I became real baby hungry. Maybe it was because my sister was a couple months pregnant and with her last. It'd be beyond cool for us to be pregnant at the same time. After we got back, Erik randomly brought it up. I exploded with excitement inside because if he brought it up, maybe we're on the same page. I started telling him about my thoughts and feelings. Over the next couple weeks we agreed.
When we tried for G, we got pregnant right away. We didn't know what to expect this time around. September's cycle came and went. So did October's and November's. Christmas Day came and I thought maybe we'd get a Christmas present even though it'd probably be too early. (It was 3 weeks and I didn't get a positive with G until 6 weeks, though I didn't test between 4 and 6 weeks; 4 weeks was negative.) But I was already having symptoms like nausea and tender breast. Alas, it was a faint positive! I was pretty excited! I got my Christmas present! I started planning how we would announce it. A couple days later, we went to the temple. While there, I thought if I weren't pregenant then, maybe we'd wait to be due during next year Spring semester, but I felt wrong about that and that we should keep trying. One the way home, we bought more home pregnancy tests (HPT) and each day they were negative. Three days after my next cycle would have started, I started bleeding. Because of the experience with the HPTs, and my records that my symptoms subsided right around Christmas, I knew I had miscarried and the test on Christmas Day was while my HCG levels were coming down, just barely enough to detect it.
My blood type is rh negative, and Erik is rh positive, which means that whenever I have a miscarriage, bleed during pregnancy, at 28 weeks, and after birth (if baby is positive), I have to get what's called a Rhogam shot. This shot is made to prevent my body from attacking any rh positive blood cells that cross over into my blood stream (since it's foreign to me) from the baby and then attacking the baby itself, in current or future pregnancies. Because I knew I had miscarried, I needed to get the shot, and fast (must be within 72 hours of bleeding). I didn't catch onto what was happening until two days of bleeding, so I was in a real hurry. I called my midwife and they said I needed to go to the ER because doctor offices cannot give it because it's a blood product and the clinic near me was closed and they couldn't get to me by the time I needed it.
We went to a nearby ER, where no one was waiting or anything. I told them I specifically needed to be checked for antibodies to know if my body had already started attacking, meaning I'd already been sensitized (this would mean extra precautions during future pregnancies). The doctor there did not believe I was even pregnant, called it a false positive, and didn't even check for antibodies as he said he would. He came back with my blood results to say I'm not pregnant (HCG levels were a big fat 0) and that it was a normal cycle--go home. I was infuriated. He had agreed to check for antibodies and didn't. I called to file a complaint the next day and explained the situation. The director acknowledged my logic and even understood, but there wasn't anything she could do other than talk to the team.
Essentially, I had what's called a Chemical Pregnancy. It's the kind that usually goes undetected because your period just happens a couple days late. What it means is that the egg was fertilized and implanted, and therefore starts building HCG hormones, but once implanted, the body realizes that the embryo is not viable and starts the process to discharge. Though due to fertilization and implantation, it is still considered a miscarriage. Looking back at my journal, my symptoms had stopped just before my positive test. From all this, I know I had a chemical pregnancy. What I didn't know is that blood does not develop in the embryo until the 5th week (about 4 weeks pregnant). Because I know mine died at about 3 weeks, there was no chance of any positive rh factor creeping into my system and my body building antibodies to attack them. If I had known that before, I wouldn't have gone to the ER. Good to know though!
After that tough ER experience, we decided to keep trying, since my cycles shouldn't be messed up from that. Plus, we'd read online that pregnancies are usually successful and normal just after a chemical pregnancy. Four weeks later, I tested again. It was a definite positive. We were pretty excited! I informed my work that I would need to teach online, if possible, in the Fall because I'd be due in the middle of the semester. They said there's a possibility of needing more online teachers, so they put me on the list. As President's Day came, there were a couple of sales at secondhand stores on clothes, so we bought a bunch for G and also for a baby boy, in case we didn't find out the gender this time around (doing a midwife the whole time instead of going to an OBGYN). I'd been planning how to announce it for a while, and about ready to just take the pictures I wanted for it. Though, I went back and forth between wanting to keep it a secret as long as possible or announcing at the end of March (12 weeks) when my parents are visiting for the birth of my sister's baby.
The day we found out we were pregnant I ended up with food poisoning. That was awful! I kept getting worse and worse throughout the day. That night our home teacher was coming by. I was so grateful Erik and him were able to give me a blessing before he left. It took me probably a week to get my energy back, which made it difficult to teach, but nonetheless, I did it! After that, I still had my symptoms of pregnancy, so I felt okay with everything. I only had symptoms of tender breasts, absence of period, and less and less energy as the weeks went on.
When I hit 8 weeks, I started bleeding a little. With G, I bled at 4 and 8 weeks, so I thought it was the same idea, though I was real paranoid Wednesday night. Erik tried to calm me and we found that it's normal from women to bleed in the first trimester, even heavy spotting, so I calmed down. I picked up a little the next day, but nothing too much. I went to my midwife, as scheduled the week before, and they had taken some blood for some test (normal pregnancy stuff). They weren't too concerned about the bleeding because it wasn't too much.
Friday morning, I was having a lot of cramping and constant. I dropped off G and went to work. About half way through my 80 minute class, I started feeling really off. I felt as if I needed to be on bed rest, that I shouldn't be walking. Due to the set up of my classroom, I had to walk all over the room. Over the course of the last 30-45 minutes of class, I went through labor. I felt pain in my pelvis and at my cervix, contractions that just about stopped me from walking around, and even the ring of fire. I was lucky that my students didn't linger that day. Four minutes after class ended, I was erasing the board and everything came out. In that instant I knew what had happened and no longer felt pregnant.
I locked the door and slowly walked over to the nearby bathroom, trying to compose myself. I confirmed my worst nightmare and texted Erik. When I returned to my classroom, I closed the door (luckily there's no class in that room after mine) and called my midwife. We set up a time for me to come in for the Rhogam shot that afternoon. My mother-in-law was kindly willing to allow G to nap at her house while I went and keep her until she woke up. There was enough time for me to get the shot, pick up an Ultimate Kong from Maceys and go cry in my bed. While out, I thought to myself that I just wanted flowers. (I never want flowers and Erik knows this.) I didn't mention anything, but when I came home from picking up G, there were some orange lilies in a vase on the table. Erik heard my silent plea. I couldn't be more grateful.
The next couple nights, I had a hard time sleeping since it was the only time I wasn't busy and talking with someone. I cuddled up with my perfect sized teddy bear from my late grandmother and cried myself to sleep. I felt I didn't have any closure. At church, it was easy for me to slip into my own mind and linger on everything that had happened. One of the discussions was about the temple and how families can be together forever. Maybe this is a child I will raise during the Millennium? After church, I finally came to open the amniotic sac to discover the baby. As tiny as that baby was, I felt that that was my baby. Finally, I felt a little more peace and closure. On my way home from work one day the next week, I drove past the same temple I sat in just after Christmas. I reflected on my feeling/prompting to keep trying. I felt that everything would be okay in the next pregnancy. Why did it have to end in a miscarriage. As I thought those emotions, I realized I needed to have that miscarriage. Why? I have no clue! But I trust God. Even two weeks later, I'm still not what most people would consider "whole," but I know this doesn't necessarily mean I will never have more children. My mother and several others in my family have experienced miscarriages (at many different stages) and had children after. I continue to take one day at a time. I choose to move forward, with that child forever in my heart.
The midwives encouraged me to talk about it as part of my mourning process, which is why I came to write this post. The status quo these days is to keep your pregnancy a secret until you're about 12 weeks, since the chance of a miscarriage goes down at that point. This way if you do miscarry (80% of miscarriages happen before 12 weeks), you don't have to go back and tell people, "Oh, nevermind!" When talking with my midwives about this, I found that I don't like that (they didn't either due to their own experiences with miscarriages on both ends of the spectrum, but they recognize that everyone has their preferences). I agree that I wouldn't want to put it on social media before then, because not everyone looks at your posts every day. Someone that sees that you're pregnant but misses the memo that you miscarried, and approaches you at some point later about it, can be pretty awkward. But with family, friends, and coworkers that you see fairly often, why not tell them? You can tell them you're not really announcing it to let them know not to spread your news if you're concerned about that. A lot of women have symptoms that cause them to not feel like themselves, so telling them would allow them to understand what's going on. That way, if you do happen to miscarry, it's not out of the blue, and they can sympathize with you a little more than if they didn't know because they shared your excitement of having a baby. This can also help you to feel not quite alone because there are others mourning with you. Again, everyone has their own preferences. Especially if someone is struggling with infertility and has miscarriage after miscarriage; hearing the same sympathetic comments over and over might become annoying or even thoughtless.
Another reason people might keep it a secret, even after a miscarriage, is because you don't want people to know you're trying to conceive. In today's culture, that's not usually something you share because too many people speak before they think and ask questions about when you plan to have a baby, or another. This is really awkward for the couple that is currently trying, and others too. Since when does my creation of a family (and timing of that) become the business of others? Word choice makes a huge difference! One friend of mine actually asked me between my two pregnancies the other month something like, "When you want to have more kids?" He realized what he asked and started changing his question. He finally landed on, "Do you want more kids?" This question was more appropriate than the first, though I wasn't offended, but we were in the middle of trying! So it was just a little awkward, but I had to make sure I didn't make it awkward.
I've found that I don't know how I'll approach future pregnancies yet. I'll figure it out then. Are we going to keep trying right now or wait? That's a good question for Erik and me to discuss. You don't need to wonder about that. Maybe this analogy is a little extreme, but I think it gets the point across. Just like the Bible states that when we've lusted after another being, we have already committed adultery in our hearts. When you wonder about when someone is going to be having more kids (or do this or that), you've already stepped over the line of privacy. Again, the analogy is a little extreme, but I think you get the idea.
A few days ago, I was reading in Alma, from the Book of Mormon, about when Alma went to preach to the people in Ammonihah, he was disheartened when the people did not receive him and kicked him out. As he was going to turn his back on that city forever, an angel said to him, "Blessed art thou, Alma; therefore lift up they head and rejoice, for thou hast great cause to rejoice; for thou hast been faithful in keeping the commandments of God from the time which thou receivedst they first message from him. Behold, I am he that delivered it unto you. And behold, I am sent to command thee that thou return to the city of Ammonihah, and preach again unto the people of the city..." I felt as though this applies in this situation. I felt prompted to keep trying after my chemical pregnancy and I followed through with that prompting. It wasn't easy and I was rejected (needed to have this miscarriage), but the Lord commands me not to give up. Note, Alma did spend time with Amulek's family before going back to preaching. Everyone needs time to heal in one way or another. It's not a shame, you're not alone, and there is hope.
Everyone has their own journeys they take in life. Not always are they planned or even desired. But when invited, we have the opportunity to take part in them. Sometimes it's full on involvement, other times it's simply giving a hug. Not always are our journeys visible or known, but they are out there. What opportunities around you do you see for you to be involved in?
**Originally posted on previous blog, 16 March 2018**
(Edited on 2/11/19 to add that this post will be continued in future post titled "Becca Rose")
In thinking about when to start trying for another child, we figured we'd wait until at least our daughter's first birthday. As the time drew near, I wasn't really feeling it, so I figured it'd be later. But then at the beginning of last August, we were visiting some family that made a comment about looking forward to their second child getting older and able to play with their oldest so their oldest could stop driving them crazy, at least a little. From that, we discussed how we like the idea of our first two being a little closer so they can play together. This really reemphasized starting to try at G's first birthday.
After that trip, G and I went with my sister and her kids to California to visit my family. For some reason, I became real baby hungry. Maybe it was because my sister was a couple months pregnant and with her last. It'd be beyond cool for us to be pregnant at the same time. After we got back, Erik randomly brought it up. I exploded with excitement inside because if he brought it up, maybe we're on the same page. I started telling him about my thoughts and feelings. Over the next couple weeks we agreed.
When we tried for G, we got pregnant right away. We didn't know what to expect this time around. September's cycle came and went. So did October's and November's. Christmas Day came and I thought maybe we'd get a Christmas present even though it'd probably be too early. (It was 3 weeks and I didn't get a positive with G until 6 weeks, though I didn't test between 4 and 6 weeks; 4 weeks was negative.) But I was already having symptoms like nausea and tender breast. Alas, it was a faint positive! I was pretty excited! I got my Christmas present! I started planning how we would announce it. A couple days later, we went to the temple. While there, I thought if I weren't pregenant then, maybe we'd wait to be due during next year Spring semester, but I felt wrong about that and that we should keep trying. One the way home, we bought more home pregnancy tests (HPT) and each day they were negative. Three days after my next cycle would have started, I started bleeding. Because of the experience with the HPTs, and my records that my symptoms subsided right around Christmas, I knew I had miscarried and the test on Christmas Day was while my HCG levels were coming down, just barely enough to detect it.
My blood type is rh negative, and Erik is rh positive, which means that whenever I have a miscarriage, bleed during pregnancy, at 28 weeks, and after birth (if baby is positive), I have to get what's called a Rhogam shot. This shot is made to prevent my body from attacking any rh positive blood cells that cross over into my blood stream (since it's foreign to me) from the baby and then attacking the baby itself, in current or future pregnancies. Because I knew I had miscarried, I needed to get the shot, and fast (must be within 72 hours of bleeding). I didn't catch onto what was happening until two days of bleeding, so I was in a real hurry. I called my midwife and they said I needed to go to the ER because doctor offices cannot give it because it's a blood product and the clinic near me was closed and they couldn't get to me by the time I needed it.
We went to a nearby ER, where no one was waiting or anything. I told them I specifically needed to be checked for antibodies to know if my body had already started attacking, meaning I'd already been sensitized (this would mean extra precautions during future pregnancies). The doctor there did not believe I was even pregnant, called it a false positive, and didn't even check for antibodies as he said he would. He came back with my blood results to say I'm not pregnant (HCG levels were a big fat 0) and that it was a normal cycle--go home. I was infuriated. He had agreed to check for antibodies and didn't. I called to file a complaint the next day and explained the situation. The director acknowledged my logic and even understood, but there wasn't anything she could do other than talk to the team.
Essentially, I had what's called a Chemical Pregnancy. It's the kind that usually goes undetected because your period just happens a couple days late. What it means is that the egg was fertilized and implanted, and therefore starts building HCG hormones, but once implanted, the body realizes that the embryo is not viable and starts the process to discharge. Though due to fertilization and implantation, it is still considered a miscarriage. Looking back at my journal, my symptoms had stopped just before my positive test. From all this, I know I had a chemical pregnancy. What I didn't know is that blood does not develop in the embryo until the 5th week (about 4 weeks pregnant). Because I know mine died at about 3 weeks, there was no chance of any positive rh factor creeping into my system and my body building antibodies to attack them. If I had known that before, I wouldn't have gone to the ER. Good to know though!
After that tough ER experience, we decided to keep trying, since my cycles shouldn't be messed up from that. Plus, we'd read online that pregnancies are usually successful and normal just after a chemical pregnancy. Four weeks later, I tested again. It was a definite positive. We were pretty excited! I informed my work that I would need to teach online, if possible, in the Fall because I'd be due in the middle of the semester. They said there's a possibility of needing more online teachers, so they put me on the list. As President's Day came, there were a couple of sales at secondhand stores on clothes, so we bought a bunch for G and also for a baby boy, in case we didn't find out the gender this time around (doing a midwife the whole time instead of going to an OBGYN). I'd been planning how to announce it for a while, and about ready to just take the pictures I wanted for it. Though, I went back and forth between wanting to keep it a secret as long as possible or announcing at the end of March (12 weeks) when my parents are visiting for the birth of my sister's baby.
The day we found out we were pregnant I ended up with food poisoning. That was awful! I kept getting worse and worse throughout the day. That night our home teacher was coming by. I was so grateful Erik and him were able to give me a blessing before he left. It took me probably a week to get my energy back, which made it difficult to teach, but nonetheless, I did it! After that, I still had my symptoms of pregnancy, so I felt okay with everything. I only had symptoms of tender breasts, absence of period, and less and less energy as the weeks went on.
When I hit 8 weeks, I started bleeding a little. With G, I bled at 4 and 8 weeks, so I thought it was the same idea, though I was real paranoid Wednesday night. Erik tried to calm me and we found that it's normal from women to bleed in the first trimester, even heavy spotting, so I calmed down. I picked up a little the next day, but nothing too much. I went to my midwife, as scheduled the week before, and they had taken some blood for some test (normal pregnancy stuff). They weren't too concerned about the bleeding because it wasn't too much.
Friday morning, I was having a lot of cramping and constant. I dropped off G and went to work. About half way through my 80 minute class, I started feeling really off. I felt as if I needed to be on bed rest, that I shouldn't be walking. Due to the set up of my classroom, I had to walk all over the room. Over the course of the last 30-45 minutes of class, I went through labor. I felt pain in my pelvis and at my cervix, contractions that just about stopped me from walking around, and even the ring of fire. I was lucky that my students didn't linger that day. Four minutes after class ended, I was erasing the board and everything came out. In that instant I knew what had happened and no longer felt pregnant.
I locked the door and slowly walked over to the nearby bathroom, trying to compose myself. I confirmed my worst nightmare and texted Erik. When I returned to my classroom, I closed the door (luckily there's no class in that room after mine) and called my midwife. We set up a time for me to come in for the Rhogam shot that afternoon. My mother-in-law was kindly willing to allow G to nap at her house while I went and keep her until she woke up. There was enough time for me to get the shot, pick up an Ultimate Kong from Maceys and go cry in my bed. While out, I thought to myself that I just wanted flowers. (I never want flowers and Erik knows this.) I didn't mention anything, but when I came home from picking up G, there were some orange lilies in a vase on the table. Erik heard my silent plea. I couldn't be more grateful.
The next couple nights, I had a hard time sleeping since it was the only time I wasn't busy and talking with someone. I cuddled up with my perfect sized teddy bear from my late grandmother and cried myself to sleep. I felt I didn't have any closure. At church, it was easy for me to slip into my own mind and linger on everything that had happened. One of the discussions was about the temple and how families can be together forever. Maybe this is a child I will raise during the Millennium? After church, I finally came to open the amniotic sac to discover the baby. As tiny as that baby was, I felt that that was my baby. Finally, I felt a little more peace and closure. On my way home from work one day the next week, I drove past the same temple I sat in just after Christmas. I reflected on my feeling/prompting to keep trying. I felt that everything would be okay in the next pregnancy. Why did it have to end in a miscarriage. As I thought those emotions, I realized I needed to have that miscarriage. Why? I have no clue! But I trust God. Even two weeks later, I'm still not what most people would consider "whole," but I know this doesn't necessarily mean I will never have more children. My mother and several others in my family have experienced miscarriages (at many different stages) and had children after. I continue to take one day at a time. I choose to move forward, with that child forever in my heart.
The midwives encouraged me to talk about it as part of my mourning process, which is why I came to write this post. The status quo these days is to keep your pregnancy a secret until you're about 12 weeks, since the chance of a miscarriage goes down at that point. This way if you do miscarry (80% of miscarriages happen before 12 weeks), you don't have to go back and tell people, "Oh, nevermind!" When talking with my midwives about this, I found that I don't like that (they didn't either due to their own experiences with miscarriages on both ends of the spectrum, but they recognize that everyone has their preferences). I agree that I wouldn't want to put it on social media before then, because not everyone looks at your posts every day. Someone that sees that you're pregnant but misses the memo that you miscarried, and approaches you at some point later about it, can be pretty awkward. But with family, friends, and coworkers that you see fairly often, why not tell them? You can tell them you're not really announcing it to let them know not to spread your news if you're concerned about that. A lot of women have symptoms that cause them to not feel like themselves, so telling them would allow them to understand what's going on. That way, if you do happen to miscarry, it's not out of the blue, and they can sympathize with you a little more than if they didn't know because they shared your excitement of having a baby. This can also help you to feel not quite alone because there are others mourning with you. Again, everyone has their own preferences. Especially if someone is struggling with infertility and has miscarriage after miscarriage; hearing the same sympathetic comments over and over might become annoying or even thoughtless.
Another reason people might keep it a secret, even after a miscarriage, is because you don't want people to know you're trying to conceive. In today's culture, that's not usually something you share because too many people speak before they think and ask questions about when you plan to have a baby, or another. This is really awkward for the couple that is currently trying, and others too. Since when does my creation of a family (and timing of that) become the business of others? Word choice makes a huge difference! One friend of mine actually asked me between my two pregnancies the other month something like, "When you want to have more kids?" He realized what he asked and started changing his question. He finally landed on, "Do you want more kids?" This question was more appropriate than the first, though I wasn't offended, but we were in the middle of trying! So it was just a little awkward, but I had to make sure I didn't make it awkward.
I've found that I don't know how I'll approach future pregnancies yet. I'll figure it out then. Are we going to keep trying right now or wait? That's a good question for Erik and me to discuss. You don't need to wonder about that. Maybe this analogy is a little extreme, but I think it gets the point across. Just like the Bible states that when we've lusted after another being, we have already committed adultery in our hearts. When you wonder about when someone is going to be having more kids (or do this or that), you've already stepped over the line of privacy. Again, the analogy is a little extreme, but I think you get the idea.
A few days ago, I was reading in Alma, from the Book of Mormon, about when Alma went to preach to the people in Ammonihah, he was disheartened when the people did not receive him and kicked him out. As he was going to turn his back on that city forever, an angel said to him, "Blessed art thou, Alma; therefore lift up they head and rejoice, for thou hast great cause to rejoice; for thou hast been faithful in keeping the commandments of God from the time which thou receivedst they first message from him. Behold, I am he that delivered it unto you. And behold, I am sent to command thee that thou return to the city of Ammonihah, and preach again unto the people of the city..." I felt as though this applies in this situation. I felt prompted to keep trying after my chemical pregnancy and I followed through with that prompting. It wasn't easy and I was rejected (needed to have this miscarriage), but the Lord commands me not to give up. Note, Alma did spend time with Amulek's family before going back to preaching. Everyone needs time to heal in one way or another. It's not a shame, you're not alone, and there is hope.
Everyone has their own journeys they take in life. Not always are they planned or even desired. But when invited, we have the opportunity to take part in them. Sometimes it's full on involvement, other times it's simply giving a hug. Not always are our journeys visible or known, but they are out there. What opportunities around you do you see for you to be involved in?
**Originally posted on previous blog, 16 March 2018**
(Edited on 2/11/19 to add that this post will be continued in future post titled "Becca Rose")
Comments
Post a Comment