My Story - The Fourth One (Part 1)

I have been absent from my blog for a while. I needed to take a break. I needed to take some time to heal before sharing my fourth and hopefully final miscarriage story. I think I am finally to the point where I am ready to share it. This blog is named for our baby boy that we lost in July. The following is his story and I dedicate the next two posts to him with all of my love. 

Two months after all of the follow-up appointments from the third miscarriage, I decided I was emotionally ready for another pregnancy. I went back on Clomid the beginning of May. My experience on Clomid this time around was much harder, with some intense ovarian pain.

We went up to my parents' house for the Memorial Day Weekend. At that time, I was three weeks into my cycle and had started the progesterone. I noticed, on the trip up, that I was craving salt and french fries - not usual for me. I felt quite tired over the weekend but thought it could be due to the progesterone, the drive up, work etc. Throughout the weekend the ovarian pain continued and I decided that if it didn’t let up by the time I got home I would call Dr. J’s office and have her check for an ovarian cyst. 

We had a great weekend with my parents. Before we left my mom and I were sitting and talking. At one point she touched my hand and recognized it was very warm. She turned to me and said, “I think you are pregnant. My hands always got hot when I was pregnant.” I hoped she was right, but was afraid to hope too much because I didn’t want to be disappointed. That night on the drive home my husband and I stopped and had dinner. I felt sick afterwards, like pregnancy type sick. I started to wonder if my mom was right. As I was still one week away from being able to test, I had to wait it out. All the while the symptoms were intensifying dramatically, especially the nausea, which I knew was (ironically) a good sign.

As the week went by, the ovarian pain eased off a bit. I tried to not get my hopes up too much about the possibility of being pregnant because I didn't want to be disappointed. Deep down I was excited but I was also anxious and scared. Scared to be pregnant for fear I would miscarry again and scared that I was wrong and wasn't really pregnant. I wanted to be pregnant, but the miscarriages had caused conflicting emotions. Finally, the following Monday June 3rd, I faced my fears and decided to pick up a HPT. I still technically had one day before I was supposed to test, based on when I started the progesterone, but I was getting anxious and knew that I needed to know. My husband hadn't come home from work yet and I figured if it was negative I could discreetly throw the test out and not worry about it. I took the test and watched as it turned positive. I immediately called my husband, who was on his way home, and told him the news. He was excited. My next call was to my Mom. I told her that her suspicions were correct - I was pregnant.
  
The following day I notified Dr. J’s office about the pregnancy and they put the orders in for my HCG blood draws. I went to the lab the following day, Wednesday, on my way to work.

With each of the previous HCG tests, Dr. J emailed me with the results and only called if something was wrong. This time, for reasons I’m still not sure of, her office decided to call to tell me everything was fine. I was pleased to know the results so quickly, but the first time they called me it scared me to death. One of the medical assistant’s called while I was at work. I had my cell on mute and didn’t see that I had missed a call until I had finished for the day. When I noticed I had missed a call from Dr. J's office, I assumed something was really wrong. I was so nervous and scared, I could barely enter in the password to my voicemail. When I finally got to the message, I heard the cheerful voice of the MA telling me that my counts were really good – a 347! That was over 100 points higher than my first HCG count in my last pregnancy. I knew this was a good sign and I was thrilled and incredibly relieved and grateful!

Two days later, after my next HCG test, Dr. J’s MA called me with the results of my second count. This time I was more prepared and wasn’t quite so terrified when I saw that I had a message from her office. My second HCG count was even better – 864. The count had more than doubled, and was higher than any measured count from my prior pregnancy. Again I felt very reassured, relieved and grateful!

With all of the increases in HCG levels and my natural progesterone plus the supplemental progesterone, I started to feel even more pregnancy symptoms. I had the cravings, aversions to food, fatigue with alternating insomnia, moodiness, sensitivity to smells and nausea – boy did I have nausea this time around. Zofran, crackers, Preggy Pop Drops and prayer got me through it but it was really rough some days.

About ten days after I learned I was pregnant, we flew to Arizona for a family wedding. I had been warned by my sister to take my Zofran before we left because pregnancy does strange things to your stomach when you fly. I was glad I listened. The way down was manageable except I kept smelling very strong body odor that was grossing me out -  thank you extra sensitive pregnancy nose. I know it wouldn’t have turned out so well if I hadn’t had the Zofran in my system. While in Arizona I pretty much lived on Zofran. It made the intense nausea manageable and made me feel somewhat human. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I hadn’t been drinking enough water and was starting to get dehydrated. I had no idea how easily you can dehydrate while you are pregnant in the summer. Each of my prior pregnancies had been in the winter so dehydration wasn't so much of an issue. On Saturday night, just before the wedding reception I started to spot. I was terrified and pretty much a nervous wreck inside the rest of the weekend. My husband and I prayed together, but I was still scared stiff. At that time I was almost six weeks along and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing another baby, especially away from home.

Thankfully the spotting stopped by the next day, the day we flew home. On the way home we had a plane that was having major problems with the air conditioning.  As in, the air conditioning was kaput during the first half of the flight. There's nothing like being pregnant and trapped in a crowded aluminum cylinder at 30,000 feet with the hot sun beating down and no air conditioning. The flight crew apologized to us for having a plane that was probably a toasty 85-90 degrees inside for the first hour. To a pregnant lady like me it might as well have been a 120 degrees. I got sicker and sicker and more dehydrated by the moment. I have never been prone to air sickness, but it was all I could do to not throw up everywhere. I didn't want to gross myself and all the other passengers out with the smell of vomit on a hot plane. I was also afraid that once I started throwing up I might not stop until we landed. Instead, I fanned myself madly with the emergency landing instructions, prayed and drank all the juice and ice water the flight attendant would give me. I have never been so glad to land in my whole life. We exited the plane as soon as humanly possible and got into the nice air conditioned airport.

The next day I felt horrible. I had an awful headache and was still feeling the effects of dehydration despite drinking tons of fluid. I decided to take the day off work and just rest. That afternoon, I began to spot again - quite a bit. I called Dr. J's office and they scheduled an appointment for me the next morning. I was terrified and spent the whole night, hardly sleeping, certain that I was going to miscarry.

The next morning my husband and I went to Dr. J's office. I was so nervous and upset that I felt even more nauseous than usual. Dr. J came in with a clinical fellow she was training (Dr. D). Dr. J spent some time before the ultrasound preparing us to not to be disappointed if we couldn't see a heartbeat. Dr. D performed the ultrasound. As she zoomed in on the baby, Dr. J just about jumped with excitement and pronounced, "we have a heartbeat!" I was shocked and started to cry. I had been so convinced that I was miscarrying that I never imagined we would see a heartbeat. What was even better was that the heartbeat was normal for six weeks gestation and the baby was measuring right on schedule. We were thrilled and felt incredibly blessed! Dr. J instructed us to schedule a follow up appointment for a second ultrasound in two weeks.  

I waited out the next two weeks. I continued to feel really sick and nauseous. I was grateful for the sickness because I knew it was a good sign. With the positive ultrasound results I felt reassured about the pregnancy. The spotting had stopped since my last appointment and I was starting to feel optimistic. The first week went by smoothly. The second week was a little rocky as I started to feel anxious about the pregnancy again. I have since read that anxiety is very common in pregnancy after miscarriage. Hopefully I will remember that the next time around.

Our second ultrasound occurred on July 2. I headed to Dr. J's office, alone this time as my husband had to work. I felt more confident than last time because I hadn't had any spotting for a couple of weeks. Just prior to going in to see Dr. J I stopped by the restroom. Much to my shock, I had started spotting on the way to her office. Needless to say I was really relieved that I would have another ultrasound shortly. Unfortunately for me, Dr. J was running behind and I had to wait. The whole time I felt the fear and anxiety building. Dr. J finally came in. I told her about the recent onset of spotting. She performed the ultrasound and noted that the baby and gestational sac looked good. She didn't see any blood coming from the sac. She suspected the spotting was tied to dehydration, caused from a very hot summer. As Dr. J continued with the ultrasound, she could see a good strong heartbeat. My fear and anxiety melted away. Dr. J turned on the volume so I could hear the heartbeat. It was the most beautiful swooshing sound I have ever heard! I had dreamt about that day and it had finally come. The baby was still measuring right on track - exactly eight weeks. I was so happy and grateful. Dr. J printed out the ultrasound pictures for me.

With two ultrasounds showing normal gestational development and strong heartbeats, Dr. J gave me an excellent prognosis (chance of success was 93 - 95%). She then released me to the care of my regular OB. I had selected a doctor at University Hospital (Dr. S) that I had heard really good things about. I was very excited to see the regular OB because it meant that the pregnancy was stable and progressing. I scheduled my first appointment with the OB for just over two weeks later - July 19th. At that time I would be almost 11 weeks. I was so happy, it was surreal. This was really happening and I was further along than I had ever been and had a strong pregnancy too. Life was good... it was really good!