I’ve been gone for a while. I considered cancelling this site (I might still, but it’s undecided for now).
A lot has happened. Or, not much has happened, depending on how you look at it.
Since the miscarriage in October, it took six months before I finally got “pregnant” again. I was excited but cautious. I asked my doctor to monitor my hormone levels to confirm the pregnancy. And instead of telling me that it was increasing like it should, the levels were so low that I had to wait to retest and confirm. But instead of doubling, it barely increased which meant it was an early loss, except this time, all I had to do was wait for my period vs getting a procedure done.
Chemical pregnancy is what happens when you find out you’re pregnant and you celebrate, but then shortly after, you start bleeding and you deal with what is essentially your body saying, nope, not this time.
At first blush, it might be hard to understand how difficult this is, to go through two losses in a span of six months. Miscarriages and pregnancy losses are so common after all. But it’s not just the loss, it’s that your life becomes consumed with waiting. Waiting to see when you’ll ovulate. Waiting to get your period. Waiting to take a pregnancy test.
And then, what did you know? This month, I got another positive pregnancy test. I felt connected this time. I felt like I knew it was happening. I felt like it was going to be a girl. I didn’t know to emotionally prepare myself for the possibility of a loss again. But ten days later, I started to bleed. The doctor says to just monitor it, because spotting is normal. But then I started cramping. And I think, this is not good. And the bleeding increases, so much that I tell CS matter-of-factly, I don’t see how this can be viable with this much bleeding. But I hold out hope. My ob-gyn gives me a slot for an appointment right away. And as I drive there, alone, I kept thinking, this feels so familiar. I had flashbacks to my drive to the same doctor, where I was told I lost my baby months earlier. I gripped the steering wheel harder than I need to. I couldn’t bare the sound of the radio. It was silent. Just like before.
And when I got there, we did the ultrasound, I was told again that there was nothing there anymore. Instead of a fetus, this time there was just absence – no gestational sac, just emptiness. For some reason, when she pointed and showed me how my uterine lining was thick, that it was proof my body was preparing for the pregnancy, I just about lost it. Like, see, it was real, it happened, even if it was brief.
Three losses in the span of seven months. Two back to back chemical pregnancies. I’m in shock. I didn’t even know that was possible. A chemical pregnancy is basically an extremely early loss. Your egg got fertilized but it never finished implanting. This is usually the result of a chromosomal abnormality, the doctor assures me. But I just didn’t even know to emotionally prepare myself for a possibility of loss again.
And, this part is especially hard. But did you know that the baby was due this month, if I didn’t have the miscarriage? That’s how long this process this time around has been. It’s facts like that, that really make this path so challenging…
If you’ve been wondering why I’ve been MIA for so many months, there it is. It’s been a rough patch. It’s hard to even look at pictures where I was briefly pregnant. I can’t bear to remember how happy I was because it wasn’t real. We’ll get there, I believe it. Everyone is fighting their own battles. This is mine.
Feel free to ask/reach out if you’re worried or just curious. Happy to remove the stigma around all this…
I saw this on a day I was feeling especially vulnerable and thought, yes, that’s right. This too will pass.
And yes, I absolutely do know how lucky I am to already have these guys…