Questions and Answers
Wow, so much can happen in 10 months. Here we are in October of 2021 —dealing with the same world pandemic, but all trying to navigate our new normal and get back to living.
In the midst of Covid & questions, Justin and I decided we needed to keep living, and decided to try for another baby after a devastating loss in 2019. So in Feb/March 2020 we started trying again, tracking all the cycles, buying cheap drugstore tests and crossing our fingers that we would see a plus sign. But months went by…and nothing. It was so easy to get pregnant before…but this time was taking longer. by January 2021, we started to wonder what was going on. We were assured that this was all normal, and sure enough at the end of January, we saw a faint positive…but it was just a chemical pregnancy and it didn’t last more than 48 hours. This felt like a good sign though…at least my body remembered how to do this.
In February 2021 we got another positive…and like the crazy person I am, I took multiple tests over multiple days and the lines got stronger, darker—it was FOR SURE a positive. I texted my OB/GYN and she asked me to come in and confirm with labs. Sure enough, everything was trending the right way. I had labs done again a week later - still moving in the right direction!
We scheduled our first ultrasound for March (8 weeks) and when that day rolled around, our anxiety was through the roof. The last time we had done an ultrasound we received the worst news of our lives, and now we were returning to the same clinic, same ultrasound room to once again search for a heart beat. Justin was early this time ( he was late to the last one), and we took a deep breath and I closed my eyes for fear of seeing something I did not want to see. Our tech quickly announced, “Baby has a heart beat and is measuring great!” What a relief! I cried tears of joy and we called our parents to let them know the news. This felt like such a huge milestone to overcome, but we still carried the memory of pregnancy loss and were celebrating very cautiously.
It’s weird when you are pregnant with your “rainbow baby”, because you feel like you should be happy and optimistic, but you are so jaded from your loss, that it is hard to feel that. It’s hard to not think about the “what-if’s” and to not get too invested too early. You love the baby you are carrying, but you are so scared to shout it to the world—because you feel like you may jinx it. We shared our news with our family and close friends, and by 12 weeks I was feeling a little better and a little more optimistic, but walking into our 12 week ultrasound on April 29th, Justin and I discussed how we both still felt nervous and we wondered if we would ever feel different?
We got situated in the ultrasound room and I asked if I needed to put the gown on. “Oh no, this is just a quick belly view to make sure we are measuring on track for 12 weeks. You can just pull up your shirt.” The minute she hit my belly, I knew something wasn’t right. She searched everywhere and finally asked me to change into the gown so we could do a wand ultrasound. Justin put his hands on his face and I assured him that everything would be fine, and there’s no way this could happen twice in a row. Although deep down, I knew that something was very wrong.
Once she started the ultrasound again, she finally found a faint outline of a baby that hadn’t grown since week 8. I cried and covered my face , but I knew no matter how much I cried, it wouldn’t change the outcome. The tech awkwardly tried to comfort me, but then excused herself from the room. Justin and I hugged and asked, “How could this happen?”
I had no signs of a miscarriage, no bleeding —which I have learned is called a “missed miscarriage”. Your body doesn’t realize what has happened, and it continues growing and changing like you are still carrying a growing baby. The baby had stopped growing shortly after our first ultrasound.
Because my body didn’t recognize the loss, my doctor recommended a D&C. We had been here before, but it all felt like the twilight zone. We went through the motions, checked into surgery the next morning.
I tried to stay strong in Pre-Op, but as they wheeled me back to surgery, I felt my eyes welling up with tears. I never wanted to be in this place again and I never wanted to have another loss like this. This was not supposed to be our story.
In the last few months, we have gotten some answers as to why this is happening.
My physician ran several tests over a period of 3 months and discovered that I have a condition called Antiphospholipid Antibody Syndrome (APAS). Basically, your immune system attacks normal proteins in the blood, and can cause blood clots — so at 8 weeks pregnant when the baby tries to implant, blood clots prevent this from successfully happening. It has been sad finding this out, but also helpful, as we now know what is going on and can make next-step choices accordingly. This puts me in a category for high-risk pregnancy and I would be on blood thinner injections throughout pregnancies and post-partum. Couple the risks of APAS with the trauma of pregnancy loss, and we are not sure more biological children are in the cards for us.
This is not the end of our journey, though. More to come soon.