Our second pregnancy, and our second loss.

Posts for this journal are dated reverse for chronological order, but this is being written in June of 2016.

It’s almost been a year since I lost Lily. The months after that, my body was such a wreck. We couldn’t wait to try again, especially me, because I felt like if I was pregnant again before my previous due date in November, it would somehow make everything a bit easier. I needed something to look forward to. But November 13 came and went. I took the day off to take care of myself and reflect on the nightmare that was 2015. It still didn’t feel like it was happening in real life. But Matt and I made it through together, and I was alive and healthy-ish. My blood pressure was still being watched, and my hormones were a wreck. I was still bleeding for weeks straight, when all I wanted was for my cycle to be back to normal. I didn’t want to feel like my own body was a stranger anymore. I felt so out of control and afraid.

I did feel a sense of relief when November 13 passed. I wasn’t constantly thinking about where I would have been if my pregnancy had worked out, versus my current state. I started feeling back to normal. Eventually my cycle came back, and we didn’t waste any time trying again.

I’m wondering now if we should have.

I found out in early December that I was pregnant again. I didn’t have the same symptoms I had before. I wasn’t sick either time, but last time I was sore and super tired. I can’t really remember if that was the case this time around. I was so excited, but scared to death.

At my first OB appointment, everything seemed good! I asked the doctor about getting a CVS test, which is as reliable as an amniocentesis for detecting abnormalities. He said I was welcome to do it, but there is a slight risk (like the amnio) and that it was very, very unlikely that I would go through what I did before. Triploidy is still considered to occur in 1% of pregnancies, and I was in those odds before. It was really rare for that to happen again. I felt comforted by that, so I didn’t push. I couldn’t have that test until 12 weeks anyway, so I decided I’d see how much of a basketcase I’d become by then.

We had a dating ultrasound done a few days later, with Matt along with me. I could have gone alone, but I was really nervous. The perinatal doctor asked me when the first day of my last period was, and I told him, but the size seemed a little off. I told him I had only had one cycle since the termination, so that probably explained the dates being off. But the heartbeat was there and blinking and good! We got an official due date of August 23^rd!

At the time, a lot of our friends became pregnant as well. It was so exciting to be a part of that circle. Having a baby that late in summer was daunting, I figured I’d be sweating my ass off, but all the summer birthday parties! Summer baby shower! I started to get excited about all the potential. Matt and I nicknamed the baby “Swarles” (How I met Your Mother reference) until we found out the sex.

It was all smooth sailing for a while. I didn’t tell anyone unless it was out of necessity, or if they guessed it when they didn’t see me drinking or something. I really wasn’t ready to announce anything until I knew for sure that everything was going to be okay.

On February 4^th I went in for my 10 week appointment. It was with Toba, the nurse practitioner at my OB office, who had worked with me through my whole previous pregnancy. She was so happy to see me back and pregnant, and gave me a huge hug hello! The appointment started out totally normal, and she used the doppler to listen to the heartbeat, even though she wasn’t sure she’d hear much since it was still early. She tried for a few minutes, only hearing my heartbeat. She didn’t seem completely concerned, but maybe she was putting on a brave face for me. She didn’t want to send me off with a question mark in my head after all I’ve been through, so she sent me to perinatal to get an ultrasound, just to make sure.

I walked to the perinatal department alone and half shaking, but still optimistic. Maybe it was just so early, maybe they still had my dating wrong at the OB office and they were expecting too much, maybe they thought I was 12 weeks instead of 10, I should have asked! I walked into the room to get the ultrasound, and the tech didn’t say a word during the ultrasound. I could see the baby one the screen, but nothing seemed off to me at first. I held my breath the whole time.

When she was done, she pointed out that the one thing missing was the blinking heartbeat. I was devastated. The doctor told me that it looks like the heart stopped about a week ago.

I made the long walk back to the OB office, and had to stop and sit down on a bench for a few minutes. I called Matt at work and just cried to him. It killed me to have to tell him that. I walked back through the waiting room (which was full of pregnant women at the time, go figure) and told Toba the news. She had no words. She told me that I could either choose to wait and let my body miscarry naturally on it’s own, or I could schedule a D & C like I had before. I told her I would think it over, and one of the doctors would call me a little later in the day to find out what I decided. I ducked out the back door to avoid the mass of pregnant women and headed home.

I’ll probably always remember that I stopped at Starbucks on the way home to treat myself to a coffee and 2 birthday cake pops. I texted my sister from my car, and a few people from work that knew, telling them I wouldn’t be coming in to work. I couldn’t call anyone, because I knew I’d just break down.

Matt came home a little bit later, and got me out of the house to get me a much needed glass of wine and distraction. All I could think about was that baby inside me. I didn’t have the guts to wait out a natural miscarriage, especially since it had already been a week. The doctors were surprised I had no pains or anything, so who knows how long it would take. I decided on the D & C, and my doctor scheduled me for first thing  the very next morning.

We woke up and headed to the OB February 5^th at 7 am. This wasn’t going to be the ordeal that the previous one was. This was right in the OB office with no sedation, just local anesthesia. I was going to be completely awake and aware the whole time. And that sucked. Just a shot to relax the lower half of my body, then the procedure in the tiny office, while Matt held my hand. I couldn’t see anything, but I could hear it all and it was just awful. It didn’t hurt much, and I remember the OB telling me I was a champ because I didn’t complain. I felt like a pro at this. It sucked.

I felt okay afterwards, since the anesthesia was still doing its thing, so we went to the diner to get some comfort food. Our waitress was pregnant, of course.Another thing I'll always remember. I don't think I've ever had a pregnant waitress before! But they were totally following me now.

Recovery time wasn’t as bad as before since I wasn’t as far along. Now there was just waiting to find out if we could find a reason for the miscarriage. We did, and it was Triploidy. Again. That super rare diagnosis that was really, really unlikely to happen again. Well, it happened again. It’s just that this time, my body figured things out a little bit sooner.

I know everyone was wondering if there was a reason for this, why two consecutive triploidy babies? That I must be a carrier or something, or Matt must be a carrier of something. I had my blood tested, we spoke to genetic counselors, did research. And Nothing. Just two complete fluke pregnancies. Probably two sperm fertilizing the egg, which equals the full extra set of chromosomes. Which is good and bad. Good, because there’s nothing standing in our way of a healthy conception in the future, but bad, because we’ve obviously defeated the odds twice.

So here I am, and it’s June 2016. My HGC finally leveled to 0 only three weeks ago. Which is an insanely long time. I took a pregnancy test on a whim in April, and still tested positive, which really scared me. I thought there was still retained tissue, which can become cancerous. But it happens. From then on, I had to get weekly blood draws just to make sure my HGC was going down and not up. It finally hit 5 on May 18^th. That’s like 4 months! It’s supposed to be like, 6 weeks. It makes me wonder how long my body really would have taken to miscarry on its own.

We’ve been dying to try again, as scared as we are, but we had to wait until I had a full cycle or two, which is impossible until your pregnancy hormone is gone.

We’re still anxious to get there, and I know we will. <3 It’s been so great to celebrate all my friends as they have their own babies, as painful as it can be at times. But that’s life and I’m thankful that it’s made Matt and I stronger. I’ve been so lucky to have him through all of this. I felt the need to document this experience as it’s still fresh in my mind, and I find myself referring back to Lily’s story to compare pregnancies. It’s been so helpful for this one.

Rest in peace my two angels.