First things first, I need to be up front and say that I have been pretty blessed with my pregnancies. We 'tried' for both, and both happened on the second month of trying. And as humbly as I can say this, that one month of a negative test (which I know is totally normal as it typically takes 3-6 months) had me almost in tears both times. I never came close to experiencing fertility issues, but I also know that when you are ready for a baby, every month of waiting for that positive test is excruciating. So ladies who are suffering or struggling to conceive, I feel for you, I pray for you, and I hope every day you all get the angel baby you so deserve.
With all of that being said, aside from some sickness with Jackson through the first trimester and being repulsed by every food and smell on the planet, I breezed through my pregnancy. Appropriate weight gain, no high risk test results, and I was able to keep active and run up until the day before I delivered. Of course, I delivered almost 4 weeks early, but even then, he was born absolutely perfect. Little man was just ready for the world, and we welcomed him with open arms.
Now, nearly two years since we got that positive test with our first miracle, it has happened again. Positive test, announcing to excited parents, and once again trying to survive the work week while doing my best to not let me coworkers know I am hanging out over the toilet trying to keep my food in a good amount of the time. I don't mind. Every day of feeling rough has always been a friendly reminder to me that baby is kicking, growing and doing their thing. The sickness hit earlier and harder with baby #2, but we managed, because the end result is more than worth two straight months of feeling like you have the flu.
As I rolled through my eighth week of pregnancy, I stood up from a work meeting to feeling a 'gush'. Immediately running to the bathroom, there was a tiny bit of blood, something I didn't experience once in my first pregnancy. Nothing incredibly alarming, but enough to prompt me to call my nurse to hopefully get in for a check up if they could find the time. I left my meeting and drove to work (which happens to be across the street from my clinic), and walked into the clinic building so I could hit up the bistro for some breakfast. Walking in I felt more 'gushing', and made a dash for the first bathroom I could find. Blood. Lots of blood. Not spotting. Just blood. I calmly called my mom to tell her what I thought was happening, walked as quickly as I could up to my clinic, and when I got up to the desk I finally lost it as I said 'I don't have an appointment, but I am pretty sure I am having a miscarriage'. I just couldn't think of anything else to possibly explain that much bleeding. I also wanted to crawl in a hole watching all of the beautiful pregnant women around me coming in for their appointments. When all you want is for your baby to be healthy and alive, thinking anything else makes your world stand still.
The nurse got me checked in, and was kind but also did nothing to give me elevated hopes. We all live in the age of Google, and I know that 50% of pregnancies with bleeding result in miscarriage, and again, I had a lot. Slowly they walked me down to ultrasound, and as I laid on the table, I was mentally prepared to see a baby that was measuring small with no heartbeat. I was literally already coping. Until, the sonographer showed me a baby measuring 3 days ahead, moving its little body, with a strong heartbeat of 171. And that is when I lost it. You love the baby within you from the moment you find out that they exist, and to see them on that screen, growing and beautiful when you were positive they were gone..I don't know if I have ever been more grateful.
I spoke with the doctor, and really my bleeding could be due to any number of things. I was essentially told to take it easy until I was checked again at my 12 week appointment. Moving forward, I had no more bleeding, continued morning sickness, and at 12 weeks a baby with a heartrate of 177. That day already seems like a distant memory, but one that I will always keep with me that makes me appreciate the blessing of being able to carry healthy babies that much more. I know others have experienced far worse, and I cannot begin to imagine what a loss is like. I appreciate this pregnancy more than I thought possible, and am already so excited to meet this little one and hold them in my arms. I chalk this experience up to handing me a great deal of perspective, and a much more real knowledge that every life is a miracle, and I am so very blessed to have my little babe growing and thriving here with me today.
