Elation to Grief: The Story of My First Pregnancy
2/5/2016
On Wednesday, January 20th, 2016 at around 6:15 in the morning, I found out that I was pregnant.
Was that vertical blue line actually there?? Was that REALLY a positive pregnancy test I had just rested my tired eyes on? My heart leapt out of my body, my knees gave and I sank to the ground, and I erupted into the happiest tears I have ever cried. Three years ago, I was worried that my body was just so messed up that I would be cursed with infertility for the rest of my childbearing years, and I would never get to look into the eyes of my beloved children. That affirming pee-stick on my bathroom sink was telling me that in less than a year, I would be a mother. I would finally be who I know in my heart I was always meant to be. In those few seconds, I thought of the rest of my pregnancy, giving birth, cradling someone that looks like me and the love of my life in my arms and never ever letting go.
How did Anthony react? Well, let me just say that when I imagined telling my beloved that he would be a father, I had all these cute scenarios planned. But in the heat of the moment, I weepily asked him not to be scared before I presented him with the positive test. He pulled me in as I began to cry again, and said, “We’re going to be okay.” I knew he was scared anyway. But he also knew what this meant for me and for us, so I’m glad that he tried to show me that he was happy. This is one of the endless reasons I love him.
So, I resolved to tell my parents as soon as possible. I knew that they wouldn’t be too upset and I wanted to have them for support. Telling his parents would have to wait because we thought they would be a little upset before they could be happy, so we decided to wait until we got pictures from our first ultrasound. Either way it would be a long time before we saw them next. My estimated due date would be September 23, which is my mom’s birthday and the day after my future mother-in-law’s birthday. I whipped up a cute little design on the computer and made this adorable onesie. I’d present my parents with this and the pregnancy test, and his parents would get the onesie with ultrasound pictures.
I went over to my parents’ house that weekend. Before I got there, I wanted to pick up a few more pregnancy tests to see if the line would get darker. I’m a very anxious person and I figured that if they got darker, my mind would be put at ease. So (TMI warning) I went to the restroom before I picked up the tests, and when I wiped, there was a good amount of bright red blood. I instantly panicked. Now, I had been spotting brown since the day before I found out, which I figured was normal, but still. I called my best friend (who bled plenty of times when she was pregnant only to give birth to a beautiful, healthy girl) for reassurance. She did her best to calm me down and told me that it was probably just my body getting rid of the last of my old blood.
The whole day, I was confident and excited to tell my parents. When my dad answered the door? Not so much. My heart raced as I asked my mom to join my dad in the study. I shakily handed her a small, purple gift bag and told her, “Anthony and I got you an early birthday present.”
My mom replied, “Birthday?????”
My dad added, “Why so early??”
I asked her to open the larger bundle in the bag. She unwrapped it to reveal the little onesie, and as she read it, she started squealing and crying and she showed my dad what it said.
“You’re gonna be a grandma?” he laughed as he stood to hug me. My mom opened the smaller bundle, which had the test in it, so she continued to squeal and they both huddled around me while I cried. I shared my concerns about the bleeding with them and they, of course, told me not to stress. This was easier said than done since the bleeding didn’t really stop that weekend. It was never strong enough to be a flow, and it only showed up when I wiped. Otherwise, I spotted brown for most of that weekend.
When I got back home, I managed to get an appointment scheduled for Monday. I had an ultrasound and blood work done. The ultrasound absolutely shattered me. The doctor couldn’t find anything in my uterus, and only found my cyst in my tube and another cyst in my ovary. They insisted that I was probably too early and the embryo would be way too little to see if it had even formed yet. I went home and cried for the rest of the day. I cried harder when I got a call saying that my levels put me at around 2-3 weeks, because that just didn’t make any sense to me. I was sure I was miscarrying at this point, which my doctor said I should be prepared to deal with. Two days later, I got more blood drawn and I got happier news back: my levels were going up, but not as much as they would have liked. I had another ultrasound and more blood work scheduled for the following Monday. I didn’t make it to then.
Sunday night, Jan. 31, I had the most severe cramps I had ever had in my entire life. It got to the point where I couldn’t get comfortable no matter what I did. I felt extremely bloated, and when I walked, I couldn’t put weight on my right side without pain shooting into my lower right abdomen. Anthony drove me to the ER, where I got more blood drawn and had another ultrasound done.
The ultrasound showed a possible ectopic pregnancy outside my right ovary in my tube.
When the doctor told me this, I shut my eyes tight to hold the tears back. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted this to just be a nightmare. He told me that there was nothing wrong with me or Anthony that could have caused this. It just happens sometimes. I didn’t feel any better, obviously. I crumpled into a little ball and sobbed until I couldn’t feel anymore. I called my parents to update them. I was discharged around midnight in stable condition.
The next night, I felt the same exact pain. I couldn’t get comfortable. I wanted to go back to the ER because what if my tube was rupturing? I was able to fall asleep, but the next morning, the pain was back and Anthony took me to the doctor for another ultrasound and even more blood work. Once again, no sac in my uterus, and a possible ectopic pregnancy on my right side. The results from the blood work showed that my levels went down, and my doctor said I would get an injection of methotrexate to end the pregnancy so I could miscarry normally and my tube would be less likely to rupture.
The worrying had finally reached its peak. I cried on the couch while Anthony held me. I had barely made it to be about 6 weeks pregnant before it was all over. I wouldn’t get to see my belly grow with this baby. I wouldn’t get to feel the kicks. I wouldn’t get to give birth to this baby and hold our love incarnate in my arms. I wouldn’t get to raise this baby to be the most wonderful human being in existence.
I called my mom and she cried with me. My dad called a little while later and cried too. I got the injection, and then the pain came back full force later that night. I went back to the ER in more pain than ever. I was sure my tube had ruptured. I had my first IV ever and the painkillers they gave me did the very trick. I couldn’t feel anything. I had another ultrasound done, and they had me stay overnight to watch the pain. The nurse said I should be prepared for surgery in the morning depending on what my doctor thought. I was terrified.
The pain didn’t bother me too much for the rest of the night. Thankfully, they found no blood in my pelvis or abdomen, and I was discharged the following afternoon. We picked up my pain meds for the coming days, which would be undoubtedly tough for me to get through. My sisters and my parents gifted me a “get well soon” balloon (my first ever), a pink baby toy, and a beautiful little figurine of an angel of guidance. They stayed at home with me for a little bit while my dad got us something to eat, then they went back home. I can’t imagine going through this without them. They are everything to me.
Now, I wait for closure.
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2/29/2016
I decided today would be a good day to follow up on what I wrote soon after my experience in the hospital. It’s the last day of the month and Leap Day at that, which means that I’m finally out of this awful month and maybe now I can turn my thoughts towards good things.
As far as all the TMI stuff (that was your warning), I barely stopped bleeding/spotting this past Saturday. In all, I bled/spotted for almost 40 straight days. Yikes. Even at that, I started spotting again today so I’m still not very sure what’s going on yet.
All I know for sure is that since I got the shot, I’ve been going to the doctor once every week to get my blood drawn so they can monitor my beta hCG levels (the pregnancy hormone). As of this past visit, they were at 6. After I got the shot, I think my levels were around 400. Five and under are considered non-pregnant, so by the time I get my blood drawn again, I’ll officially be non-pregnant.
It’s all really bittersweet.
Still, getting my levels back down to zero means that my body is healing normally.
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5/8/2016 – Mother’s Day
It was important for me to finally publish this today for the following reasons:
Today is indeed a day dedicated to celebrating our mothers for being the strongest people in our lives. My mom and I haven’t always had the best relationship, but I respect that she is my mother. Without her, I wouldn’t be, and my sisters wouldn’t either. She is one of the strongest women I know for all that she’s been through. She would have been the most loving grandma to this baby.
Today is also hard for those of you whose mothers are no longer living. Please forgive us when we post pictures of us with our mothers and of our mothers and gushing over how amazing they are and how glad we are to have them in our lives. Because we really do mean it. But that doesn’t mean that ours matter more than yours. Your mothers were great simply by giving birth to you, and for many more reasons unique to her. She will forever live through you, and through the rest of your families.
Today is a day for mothers to celebrate being mothers. They gave birth to people that they would raise with all the love they had to give.
Today is a day for people who never got to be mothers to celebrate the impact they’ve had on others’ lives. They have someone that says, “She’s like a mother to me.”
Today is a day for the fathers that have had to fill in and be both parents for whatever reason, because parenthood isn’t easy.
For me, today is hard. Today was kind of supposed to be my first Mother’s Day, even if my baby would still have been in utero (so to speak). Today, I am reflecting on who I want to be. And I am more motivated than ever to press on.
My first pregnancy is never going to be easy for me to talk about. I haven’t yet made it through telling someone about it without tearing up or crying. Putting my experience into words is also quite complicated. The most difficult idea to process is that I will never be able to hold that baby in my arms. Ever. I have felt what it’s like to be pregnant, and now that I’m not, I feel as though I’m empty. Part of me is missing. These are the thoughts that torment my mind well into the early morning hours.
What makes it complicated is this, however…
I am not and never will be glad that this happened to me. I hope that I never have to experience something like this again, and I would never wish this onto anyone, no matter how much I dislike them. But just because it happened doesn’t mean that I’m finished with that aspect of my life. Anthony & I are almost done with school, and what’s next is to have our wedding like we initially planned. It just so happens that we don’t have to make room for a baby so soon after all. This certainly makes what we have planned easier. We were fully prepared to raise this baby, but because of what has happened, we feel that we have been given an opportunity. We get to be childless for at least a little longer, which is something that we will absolutely not take for granted.
Don’t be mistaken—I would give anything, absolutely ANYTHING, to still be pregnant. But now, we have the opportunity to make sure that we create the best environment to raise our future kids in. When we are ready, we will absolutely bring them into this world.
To keep the memory of our baby alive, we have affectionately named them:
I have a list of names already picked out for my future children because I’m super analytical when it comes to names. I wanted this baby’s name to mean exactly what he or she was, which is another thing; I’m pretty sure this baby was going to be a girl. No matter what it was, I was always going to love them, but I had a feeling that I’d be welcoming a little girl into the world.
But on to the name— Micah can mean “gift from God”, and Kiran means “ray of light”.
Baby Micah,
You are infinitely loved. For the brief moment that I held you in my body, I was so excited to finally become a mother. I know that there is nothing I can do to reverse what has happened. There is nothing anyone can say to me that will make me feel any better about losing you. But thank you, my little beam of light, my ray of hope, for showing me that I am capable of becoming pregnant. I thank God in heaven for blessing me with this gift, even if it was very briefly. I thank Jesus Christ and his heavenly mother Mary for watching over me, and for letting me trust my instincts and recognize when something is wrong with my body. If I hadn’t followed my own intuition, the consequences would have been dire, and my life would have been at stake. I am heartbroken that we will never know you. But I know that somehow, someday, we will be together again. I will wear my necklace always to remember you by. And one day, when I finally get to have my children, your little brothers or sisters, with me on this earth, I will be the best mother that I can possibly be. And I will do it because of you, never instead of you. You will always be in my heart, Micah.
Love,
Mommy & Daddy
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