a catch up part 1: 0-14 weeks.

This will be a long post, perhaps edited as I recall more.

The story starts almost a year ago. It was a year ago we made the decision that kids were something we wanted in our lives. Perhaps the decision was made prior to that even, but we made some active choices to make them a possibility. In July of 2010 I found out I was pregnant. I think I found out the very second one could, as it was my 4th test in a week that finally gave results. This makes the pregnancy that much longer, but I was keen to know. We found out on the last day of vacation, which was a great way to end a week of pure bliss and relaxation. I am sure there are amazing ways to share the news with your husband, besides checking while he is in the shower, then showing the stick in with him to confirm, but that was how it was done. I then took about 4 more tests over the next few weeks, just to be sure. I was in a wee bit of deinal that it was actually true.

I guess by the time you actually show positive, you are about 2 or 3 weeks along. I have had no real female schedule since I went off the pill, so I had no clue exactly how far along I was. I was trying to hold it all in until the doctor confirmed a yes, and then shared with parents and siblings. Too early??, Hells yes, but I was pumped and needed an outlet.

Everything seemed magical until about week 5 or 6. The magic ended and terror set in. I got home from work one day and started to bleed heavily. I immediately left for the emergency room fearing the worst - a miscarriage. I was seen right away which was a god sent, as I could hardly focus on my own name sitting in the waiting room. I met an old man doctor who had me pee in a cup and said 'yup - still pregnant. come back tomorrow for an ultrasound'. I came back the next day and had an ultrasound. The technician was great, but quiet. I have never had an ultrasound before, but I knew enough to see she was seeing nothing on the screen. No baby was there. I was advised to go back and see the doctor for results. I went back to the ER and saw a new doctor. This time, not so great. Based on my last menstruation cycle they said I was further along than what I thought - they said at least 7 weeks. I wanted to say no, as I know that menstrual cycle is one way to judge, sex is a whole other, and I know when I had that last. I said nothing though as I was still in shock, I was hurting in my heart and I was faced with a person who knew their job better than I did, so I was following their best judgment over my own gut. They said that based on how far along they thought I was, that I had lost the baby since nothing showed in the ultrasound. They said they would monitor my blood levels for a week or two to make sure they fell and to come back in a week for a final ultrasound to make sure I passed everything. She asked if I wanted a physical to get things moving and I said no. I didn't want to be touched, and I didn't want to confirm anything else that day (grateful everyday that i said no). I sat there with tears in my eyes, fighting them back to be strong. I wasn't sure if I was sad about the loss, or if I had already become attached to this little person and was grieving. As soon as the doctor left the room, I wept. I went home numb and took the week off work. I called my family and told them the sad news. I felt like a failure. My husband, who was to leave the country for work the next day made some adjustments as well to leave the following week.

A week later we went back for that final ultrasound. I hated the idea of going back into that room to confirm I was a failure. I hated the idea of seeing that doctor again. I was still numb and still bleeding. I had been bleeding all week, but had no clue if I had passed anything....I didn't know what to do at this point. Laying on the table once again I fought back tears and made myself a rock. I knew why I was there this time and I wanted it to be quick. As the same technician as before surveyed my abdomen she asked if I would like to see my baby. Tears rolled down my face as I explained to her why I was there and that I had lost it last week, perhaps she forgot me? She reassured me she knew who I was and that in fact there was a baby in there. Apparently I was not as far along as they thought. I was just 7 weeks now, and only now could they pick up on a baby. I was once again in shock and denial. I already grieved this little person. I already made some peace with this news and now it was real again. I once again met with the same doctor who gave me an 'oops, it happens' and went on my way home, still bleeding. I took the hospitals advice that this bleeding could result in a miscarriage, so be prepared. I left with the idea that I would loose the same baby twice.

My husband left the next day for 2 months. I sought out advice from few people as I was not sure this was real, how long it would last or how to fix it. I spent the next 6 weeks off my feet as much as possible, living in complete fear at all times, and going back for multiple ultrasounds to check the fetus status. I worked now and then, drained from 6 weeks of bleeding, drained from being pregnant, drained from living in hell. I hid all my baby books that I bought as a proud mom the first 6 weeks and I made the topic taboo to everyone. I knew I had to make it to 12 weeks to get past the first hurdle and it wasn't real until then. I gave up everything that gave me personal freedom and started to rely on others for help. It was the worst thing I have ever been through and had no where to turn. I feared going to the washroom and kept a calendar of how things were going.

My bleeding ended up being caused by a multiple set of problems. Although apparently common, fatal at times for the fetus and fatal for new moms in terms of heart and mind games. I had a blood clot between the uterus and my body. This clot was not too big, but it could cause the uterus to rip away if it grew. Every time I moved a certain way (and I had no clue which way) it would rip and bleed. Only time could heal it and rest. I also had the placenta placed low. Those move while pregnant, so it was not an issue, but as it moved it cause some bleeding.
Finally around week 11 I stopped bleeding. I had stopped a few times before, only to start up again, or I would almost stop for a week, then start again. Finally it was over. I was cautious up to week 14 when I then figured I was safe. I waited until week 16 to share again with people and week 18 for work.

This was the first 14 weeks. A time when I let those who were religious pray for me, when I turned to saying Buddhist mantras in my head to make it through the day and when I became so inactive to protect this little baby, that walking to the fridge took all my energy and skill to avoid a loss.


a catch up part 2: 14-24 is much less depressing. Perhaps even magical again.