February 2016 we found out that we were pregnant. I am 31 years old. We were so excited! It was my first pregnancy (my husband has children already). I was so very sick during the pregnancy. I’ll never forget that anytime I told the doctor/nurses about the sickness that they all had the same response: “being sick is actually a very good sign.”It was funny, but reassuring at the same time.
We went for our 12 week appointment where we were going to have our first ultra sound to finally see the baby and hear the heartbeat. The appointment was on April 21st. I remember googling what 12 week ultra sounds look like so I would know what to expect. My friend had suggested that I drink a little bit of soda prior to the appointment because she said then the baby would be more active during the
ultrasound. I was so nervous once we got to the office. It was so much excitement and anxiety rolled into one. I remember it like it was yesterday. Everyone was talking about Prince as that was also the day he had passed away. The nurse took my blood pressure and pricked my finger for an iron test. She said that I seemed nervous and I confirmed that I was terrified. They took my husband and I to the back room located on the left hand side. The room had two chairs, a table, the equipment, and an extra TV monitor hanging on the wall. The nurse instructed me to get changed and she would be back in. Once we got started my husband was trying to see what the nurse was doing. I pointed out to him that there was a TV monitor that was showing the same thing so he didn’t have to bend his neck backwards. I knew right away something was wrong because I wasn’t seeing the same thing as I had googled. The screen was empty. The nurse was extremely quiet. I noticed she had switched to looking for a heartbeat and I heard nothing. I looked at my husband who appeared to be clueless as to what was truly happening. The nurse told us that I would need to have an internal ultrasound as she was having trouble finding the baby. She asked me to go to the bathroom as my bladder was full. Well I stayed in that bathroom for at least 15 minutes. I knew whatever was going on it wasn’t good, but I knew the longer I stayed in the bathroom the longer I was still pregnant. Eventually I did leave the bathroom and went back into the room. My husband asked if I was okay as I was gone a long time. I told him I was okay and could tell from his face that he still hadn’t figured it out. We started to do the internal ultrasound and it was extremely uncomfortable. That is when the tears started. The nurse comforted me and my husband, confused by the crying, asked if I was okay. The nurse looked at both of us and said that she was sorry but the baby no longer had a heart beat and she would need to bring the doctor in. I have seen my husband cry a total of three times in the 10 plus years we have known each other. This was the third time. I got dressed and we waited for the doctor. I couldn’t believe our luck as a doctor walked in who was easily 7 months pregnant. Now I’m sure she was the last doctor that wanted to come and talk to us but I wanted to die right then and there. She explained to us that we had a missed miscarriage. I have never even heard of a missed miscarriage before this. She explained that the baby no longer had a heartbeat and was measuring at 8 weeks when he/she should have been at 12 weeks. She asked me who my doctor was and proceeded to call him to meet with us.
My doctor came into the room and comforted us the best he could. He explained that it wasn’t my fault and unfortunately miscarriages are more common than discussed. He told me 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. He explained my options and we decided to have a D&C done. He was very kind when explaining everything to us. Throughout the whole process he was absolutely amazing along with his entire staff. I really felt like his comments were genuine. The worst part was it was Thursday and the surgery wouldn’t be until Monday. I had the whole weekend to just sit and wait. I explained to my HR department what had happened and let them know I would need some time off. The whole weekend I was an absolute wreck. Each morning I would wake up hysterical crying. For a split second in the morning I would forget the nightmare that was my life. My poor husband would wake up to me sobbing each morning. He was amazing and supportive, however throughout the whole thing. We do make a great team. Monday morning came along and it was horrible. I was so upset and anxious I actually threw up prior to the surgery. My doctor went over everything that would be happening and again the staff was so wonderful. Everyone was so sensitive to our needs. Once we were back in the surgery area I remember the anesthesiologist needing me to move up and at the same time the nurse needed me to move down. My doctor must have seen the absolute horror on my face as he tapped my arm and offered me one finger. I grabbed his finger and held it tight until I was asleep. It was the tiniest gesture that made the largest impact. When I woke up in recovery I was freezing! I was crying as I knew it was over and I was no longer a mother. It took 8 heated blankets before I was finally warm and my husband to be by my side to stop the tears. My doctor updated us and said that I did have a slight complication where I lost a lot of blood but they were able to get it under control. I was discharged a few hours later and we went home to process everything. The next day a nurse called to check on my progress and that night my doctor personally called to see how I was doing.
A few days later the doctor called me and told me that I actually had a Partial Molar pregnancy. I had no freaking clue what that even meant. He explained to us that it only affects 1% of pregnancies (of course we would be that 1%). He told us that this happens when two sperm enter the egg at the same exact time. The baby receives double the chromosomes and has no chance of surviving past the first trimester. He also told us that this explains why I lost so much blood during the surgery. Apparently large amounts of blood loss during surgery are common for a Partial Molar. He continued to tell us that along with the baby a molar grows. The mole can become cancerous if not fully removed. So I went from being a mother, to losing my baby, to possibly getting cancer. To ensure that everything was removed during the D&C I had to get weekly blood draws to make sure my HGC level was dropping. I was finally cleared in December to try again. I had a total of 24 blood draws. I had to go weekly until about October where I then switched to monthly. It was really hard to have to go through that every week when with the average miscarriage, the woman can try again after a cycle or two.
We have started trying again and it is absolutely terrifying. I’m scared of having another miscarriage or worse not being able to get pregnant at all.
Throughout the whole process there have been plenty of triggers. Right after the miscarriage there was a while where I couldn’t see any woman pregnant. It would instantly make me sad and mad all at the same time. “That should have been me” would run through my head. I can handle it now for the most part. It is still hard to this day to hear about miscarriages. My emotions overall have been different. I cry at the simplest things. If anything is sad I cry. If anything is beautiful or moving I cry.
We went for our 12 week appointment where we were going to have our first ultra sound to finally see the baby and hear the heartbeat. The appointment was on April 21st. I remember googling what 12 week ultra sounds look like so I would know what to expect. My friend had suggested that I drink a little bit of soda prior to the appointment because she said then the baby would be more active during the
ultrasound. I was so nervous once we got to the office. It was so much excitement and anxiety rolled into one. I remember it like it was yesterday. Everyone was talking about Prince as that was also the day he had passed away. The nurse took my blood pressure and pricked my finger for an iron test. She said that I seemed nervous and I confirmed that I was terrified. They took my husband and I to the back room located on the left hand side. The room had two chairs, a table, the equipment, and an extra TV monitor hanging on the wall. The nurse instructed me to get changed and she would be back in. Once we got started my husband was trying to see what the nurse was doing. I pointed out to him that there was a TV monitor that was showing the same thing so he didn’t have to bend his neck backwards. I knew right away something was wrong because I wasn’t seeing the same thing as I had googled. The screen was empty. The nurse was extremely quiet. I noticed she had switched to looking for a heartbeat and I heard nothing. I looked at my husband who appeared to be clueless as to what was truly happening. The nurse told us that I would need to have an internal ultrasound as she was having trouble finding the baby. She asked me to go to the bathroom as my bladder was full. Well I stayed in that bathroom for at least 15 minutes. I knew whatever was going on it wasn’t good, but I knew the longer I stayed in the bathroom the longer I was still pregnant. Eventually I did leave the bathroom and went back into the room. My husband asked if I was okay as I was gone a long time. I told him I was okay and could tell from his face that he still hadn’t figured it out. We started to do the internal ultrasound and it was extremely uncomfortable. That is when the tears started. The nurse comforted me and my husband, confused by the crying, asked if I was okay. The nurse looked at both of us and said that she was sorry but the baby no longer had a heart beat and she would need to bring the doctor in. I have seen my husband cry a total of three times in the 10 plus years we have known each other. This was the third time. I got dressed and we waited for the doctor. I couldn’t believe our luck as a doctor walked in who was easily 7 months pregnant. Now I’m sure she was the last doctor that wanted to come and talk to us but I wanted to die right then and there. She explained to us that we had a missed miscarriage. I have never even heard of a missed miscarriage before this. She explained that the baby no longer had a heartbeat and was measuring at 8 weeks when he/she should have been at 12 weeks. She asked me who my doctor was and proceeded to call him to meet with us.
My doctor came into the room and comforted us the best he could. He explained that it wasn’t my fault and unfortunately miscarriages are more common than discussed. He told me 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. He explained my options and we decided to have a D&C done. He was very kind when explaining everything to us. Throughout the whole process he was absolutely amazing along with his entire staff. I really felt like his comments were genuine. The worst part was it was Thursday and the surgery wouldn’t be until Monday. I had the whole weekend to just sit and wait. I explained to my HR department what had happened and let them know I would need some time off. The whole weekend I was an absolute wreck. Each morning I would wake up hysterical crying. For a split second in the morning I would forget the nightmare that was my life. My poor husband would wake up to me sobbing each morning. He was amazing and supportive, however throughout the whole thing. We do make a great team. Monday morning came along and it was horrible. I was so upset and anxious I actually threw up prior to the surgery. My doctor went over everything that would be happening and again the staff was so wonderful. Everyone was so sensitive to our needs. Once we were back in the surgery area I remember the anesthesiologist needing me to move up and at the same time the nurse needed me to move down. My doctor must have seen the absolute horror on my face as he tapped my arm and offered me one finger. I grabbed his finger and held it tight until I was asleep. It was the tiniest gesture that made the largest impact. When I woke up in recovery I was freezing! I was crying as I knew it was over and I was no longer a mother. It took 8 heated blankets before I was finally warm and my husband to be by my side to stop the tears. My doctor updated us and said that I did have a slight complication where I lost a lot of blood but they were able to get it under control. I was discharged a few hours later and we went home to process everything. The next day a nurse called to check on my progress and that night my doctor personally called to see how I was doing.
A few days later the doctor called me and told me that I actually had a Partial Molar pregnancy. I had no freaking clue what that even meant. He explained to us that it only affects 1% of pregnancies (of course we would be that 1%). He told us that this happens when two sperm enter the egg at the same exact time. The baby receives double the chromosomes and has no chance of surviving past the first trimester. He also told us that this explains why I lost so much blood during the surgery. Apparently large amounts of blood loss during surgery are common for a Partial Molar. He continued to tell us that along with the baby a molar grows. The mole can become cancerous if not fully removed. So I went from being a mother, to losing my baby, to possibly getting cancer. To ensure that everything was removed during the D&C I had to get weekly blood draws to make sure my HGC level was dropping. I was finally cleared in December to try again. I had a total of 24 blood draws. I had to go weekly until about October where I then switched to monthly. It was really hard to have to go through that every week when with the average miscarriage, the woman can try again after a cycle or two.
We have started trying again and it is absolutely terrifying. I’m scared of having another miscarriage or worse not being able to get pregnant at all.
Throughout the whole process there have been plenty of triggers. Right after the miscarriage there was a while where I couldn’t see any woman pregnant. It would instantly make me sad and mad all at the same time. “That should have been me” would run through my head. I can handle it now for the most part. It is still hard to this day to hear about miscarriages. My emotions overall have been different. I cry at the simplest things. If anything is sad I cry. If anything is beautiful or moving I cry.
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