Monday, April 7, 2014

The Story of Me

   My husband and I were married in 2011, and ditched the birth control in August of 2012. We were so excited, and a little scared. After all, we were going to get pregnant right away! Yeah right. Life has a funny way of turning on you.
    As the months began to pass us by I started to worry. "It can take a healthy couple up to a year. Right? Yeah, that's what all the articles say. There's nothing to worry about!" That thought didn't always end the pain of another failed month, but it did keep me from running off to the doctor seeking premature treatment (which I'm still glad I didn't do, regardless of where I'm at today). Month 11 finally rolled around and I was so discouraged. I began researching local Reproductive Endocrinologists and fertility clinics, dreading the appointments to come. We decided to visit home that weekend and my sister in law, knowing that we were trying, gave me a test and told me to take it because she didn't need it. If you're trying to get pregnant, a good rule is to never turn down a free test. The next morning I decided to use it. "My period is due today anyway and it's not like I'm pregnant. I hate having tests lying around, mocking me. I'm just going to use it and get it out of my sight."
    Well what do you know? It was positive! Faint, but obvious. I was in shock, thinking that surely this couldn't be real. All the sadness of the past year was worth it, I was going to be a mom. No, I was a mom. Anyone who's been pregnant can tell you, that once you see that test, whether it results in a baby or not, something in you changes forever, and you will always be a mom.
    Tyler was away and wasn't going to be home until the next day, and I wasn't about to break this news over the phone or a text. I rushed to Target (because, duh, Target) and picked out a little onesie, a card, and another test to confirm. I had been cramping a little bit that afternoon, but lots of people cramp when they're pregnant, it was nothing to worry about. I had already called my best friend because I just had to tell somebody. We gushed and squealed and did happy dances.
    As I drove to my grandparent's house to eat dinner and then go to a movie with my dad, the cramping got worse. Not 30 minutes later I began to bleed. I called my midwife, who reassured me that many women spot during pregnancy, it was probably fine, and to keep her posted. The pain continued to increase until it had me doubled over in my grandparent's bathroom, struggling to compose myself. I knew it was over. I texted Tyler and my best friend, letting them know what had happened and asking for prayers.
    After I had cleaned myself up, I put on a brave face, got in the car, and went to the movie with my dad. It was so hard, but none of it had really set in yet. I guess that was kind of a blessing.
    Tyler got home the next day and carried on as if nothing had happened. I was so hurt and confused. He didn't understand the term 'chemical pregnancy' (which I now think is so stupid. It's a miscarriage. I was pregnant, my baby died, it doesn't matter how early it was.) and thought that it meant the test was faulty and I was never pregnant. I didn't understand why he wasn't upset, why he didn't seem to care. I came to him in tears and asked why he couldn't care less that I lost our baby. He finally understood and held me all night long, letting me cry until I didn't think I had any tears left, and then cry some more.
    The next morning I got a call from another one of my close friends. She had some really exciting news for us! She was pregnant, and her due date was the exact same day that mine would have been. I realized that weekend what a good actor I was. I guess I really missed my calling in life. As she gushed about their news, I rejoiced with her, asking how she was feeling, what their plans were, how her husband was feeling about the whole thing (it was unplanned, more salt in my wound). I didn't mention the fact that I was currently losing my baby because I didn't want to darken her day, and she was so excited. I didn't blame her, I would have been, I had been, too.
    I won't pretend like the pain went away, but it has gotten easier to deal with over time.
    Fast forward to December 2013. I didn't make an appointment with the RE (Reproductive Endocrinologist) after my miscarriage because we got pregnant once, surely we could get pregnant again. After all, everyone was telling me how much more fertile you are after a miscarriage (let me just say that this is a really stupid thing to say to anyone, let alone someone who just had a miscarriage. I did tell you I was going to be real with you, didn't I?) Well, it's not true, and we didn't get pregnant again. As eager as I was to be a mom, I was just as scared to make the call. When I finally did, I was astonished at how fast they got me in. I was beginning to get really excited! At my appointment I talked with the PA and she scheduled some blood work. I was so happy! We were finally getting the ball rolling and going to find out what was wrong! After I got my blood drawn and the results came back normal, a nurse called me and said that there was nothing more they could do for me. "What? I'm not ignorant, I know that there are many more tests that need run. How can this be it?"   
     Well, it turns out that you have to wait at least a year after your last pregnancy, regardless of whether you carried the baby to term or not, to seek help from a doctor. I was stunned. I couldn't even speak, so I just hung up the phone and cried. The next day I called back and asked if there was something we could do, something we could work out. After all, 17 months with one miscarriage isn't normal, no matter what insurance wants to say to get out of paying. You know what that nurse said to me? "Sorry, you're out of luck."
    Out of luck.
    I didn't even care that I was still on the phone, I cried like I had never cried before. That morning two friends had told me that they were pregnant, and now I was being told that we had to wait until our 2 year mark to even seek testing.
     For the next 4 or 5 weeks I was in a major funk. I didn't leave the house, didn't speak to my friends, and didn't go to my Wednesday bible study that I looked forward to every week. Eventually I got out of it, I've learned to accept the fact that I'm 'out of luck' until August and some days even find the positives in having to wait, but deep down I know that I would give up everything I have to distract me this summer in order to have my baby.

    My due date was March 29, 2014.

But if not, He is still good. 


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