The Pregnancy That Wasn't

From the moment I saw the two pink lines on my pregnancy test on June 23, I started to plan.

I thought about names.

I thought about nursery colors and themes.

I wondered where the baby would sleep.

I wondered whether it would be a boy or a girl.

I thought about how fun it would be to have two kids in Jordan's graduation picture next year.

I started to pick out baby items on Amazon.com.

I was incredibly relieved and surprised that it had only taken 8 months and 2 rounds of clomid to get pregnant. The weight of infertility is heavy and comes with a lot of worry, and a lot of expense. I'd been thinking several steps ahead to the cost of IVF and I was so relieved we wouldn't have to spend that money. I was also thrilled that Logan and the baby would only be 2 years and 8 months apart. To me, that was perfect timing. I had been worried that our kids would be super far apart due to how much we struggle to get pregnant. I honestly felt like this was truly a miracle.

Because we were in Michigan for the summer, I called my doctor in Utah and told him the good news. He told me I should try to get into a doctor asap for HCG and progesterone blood work, and also for an early ultrasound. So I found a local doctor.

On July 7, I went in for my bloodwork. My progesterone came back normal, but my HCG was a little low for being a little over 5 weeks along. Everyone told me it was still probably fine. But I was really worried about it. Our ultrasound was scheduled for the next Thursday (4 days before my birthday), and I had so much anxiety leading up to it. I prayed so hard and so often that the baby would be okay over the next week.

When we went in for the ultrasound, the tech told us she only saw a sac, and no baby. There was a yolk sac, she said. How sure are you of your dates? Could you not be as far along as you thought? No. I track everything always. She told me to come back in two weeks to see if there had been any growth, but that the pregnancy was probably not viable.

I was devastated. I don't even know if there was a word for what I was feeling. Well, I was mad. I was mad at my body for tricking me like this. Mad at God for allowing this to happen. Mad at myself for thinking this miracle could happen and it would be okay. Mad at everyone else for telling me the baby was fine when it wasn't. And I was sad. So terribly sad that the baby that I had imagined would be coming to us in March had, in fact, already died.

I cried a lot. The next two weeks were terrible. I couldn't be happy but I had to keep on with life because I had Logan and no one to help with him. I would google stories about people who had not seen a baby on their first ultrasound but went on to have a healthy pregnancy. I came up with several reasons that we hadn't seen the baby. But most days I knew that the baby was gone.

We went in for the ultrasound on July 30 and as soon as I saw the picture, I knew. I knew how much growth you should see in two weeks, and the sac didn't look any bigger. There was a baby, but no heartbeat. The doctor came in and gave me his talk about my "options"--surgery, medicine to start the miscarriage, or waiting. We told him we don't have insurance in Michigan, we would have to wait until we got home to do anything. He informed us that if we waited to go home until the following week, I would run the high risk of starting my miscarriage in the car, on the way home, miles from a hospital or place to stop. So we went home and started packing so we could leave the next day.

After three days in the car, we arrived in Utah. I saw my doctor's ultrasound tech the next day. He took a lot of time checking to make sure the baby had died. I was glad he took a lot of time on it. The tech in Michigan had taken almost no time at all. I talked to my doctor and he said he wanted me to wait to see if it would pass on my own. We also found out that my medicaid coverage had lapsed--if we had to do the surgery, we would be paying for all of it out of pocket, which was terrifying. So the surgery wasn't really an option even though I was so ready for the nightmare to be over, so I could maybe start to heal. I was also concerned about the slight chance that something could happen during the D&C which would make it even more difficult to become pregnant in the future, which is exactly what I didn't need. So I decided I wanted to wait a couple weeks to see if I would start the miscarriage on my own.

On August 10, I started spotting. I was relieved but nervous to know what was probably coming soon. By Wednesday, August 12, I was having what seemed to be like a heavy period. I was cramping and generally felt cranky and awful. Friday morning it got worse and I was wondering how I was going to get through Logan's birthday party feeling like this. Fortunately (I guess) the cramping slowed down a lot Friday afternoon and I was able to get everything done Friday night like I wanted to. On Saturday I was having some cramping on and off but I was generally fine for Logan's party.

Today, August 20, a month and four days after that first ultrasound where we knew the baby would probably not make it, I had another ultrasound to make sure that the miscarriage was over. I was relieved that I wouldn't have to have a D&C, but it was hard to see nothing in that space.

I had no idea that a miscarriage could be such a long, drawn out, and painful process. But I have grieved for my baby and I am slowly coming back to myself. A couple weeks ago it felt like I would never be my happy self again, but now I have hours where I don't think about the miscarriage.

I talked to my friend last night about what had happened. She shared with me a quote from Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin, from a talk he gave in 2008:

"The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude."

I don't know that I've been incredibly faithful through this trial. I have tried to do what I could, but I'm sure it wasn't as much as the Lord would have me do. However, I do have faith that the Lord loves us even through our shortcomings. I know there will be more blessings (and trials!) throughout my life, and I fervently hope that there is another child coming to us, even though there are no guarantees. I'm incredibly grateful that we have Logan. He is such a joy to me. He is a miracle. I've told Jordan a few times that everyone gets a miracle, and Logan was ours.

I wrote this post so I can remember what happened. My blog is like a journal. It's a public journal, so I don't usually share extremely private things, so I'm sorry if this made anyone feel uncomfortable. But miscarriage is often brushed under the rug. Nobody really talks about it, nobody knows what to say. Because it happens so often (1 in 5 pregnancies end in miscarriage) it's viewed at as not a big deal. But to me, it was a huge loss. I don't know when a soul enters the body; I don't feel like I lost a child, exactly. It's more like I lost the potential of what that baby could have been. Because I had three weeks, after seeing that positive test, to imagine what my life would be like with that baby. With a sibling for Logan. Maybe a daughter for Jordan and I. And then we lost it. And to us, that was tragic. And I think it needs to be said, written down, and accepted by friends and family.

Life goes on. Another friend said to me the other day, "Time heals." And it's true. As the days go on, the happier I feel, the more hope I feel that something wonderful will be just around the corner.

No matter how long the rain lasts, there will always be a rainbow in the end.