Today we got to go in for our second ultrasound at 6w3d. I had to be weighed at this visit (YIKES!) and then was asked to empty my bladder, undress from the waist down, and wait for the doctor to come in to do the ultrasound. As a veteran of many, MANY a vaginal ultrasound now, I know the trick is to undress and dive under the tiny square of paper given to protect your modesty as quickly as possible since the doctor could come walking through the door anywhere from 15 seconds to 15 minutes after the instruction to undress is given. So I make quick work of undressing as Eric guards the door and then we assume our positions to begin waiting for the doctor at around 10:40. We talk about our nervousness regarding the last week's spotting, how anxious we are to see the heartbeat and how we are both slightly concerned we won't see one. We talk about the lunch Eric is going to after the appointment, when our next doctor's appointment is likely to be, etc, etc, etc. Around 11, after 20 minutes of sitting there half naked on a somewhat cold day in a not quite warm room, my conversation starts to turn to how long the doctor is going to take. I tell Eric if she is not in by 11, I will go out half naked to find her. By 11:10, I am growing QUITE impatient and trying to convince Eric to go check how long it is going to be. By 11:15, I insist he needs to go tell them my lady parts are developing signs of hypothermia and to ask if I can just wait with my pants on but FINALLY, at 11:18, the doctor comes in and I swallow my mounting irritation to discuss my spotting concerns and get the ultrasound started. Within seconds, the gestational sac comes up on the screen (Whew, still pregnant!) and a quick zoom in shows our jellybean with the cutest little flickering heartbeat and all my irritation about the delay and the indignity of my pants-less situation melts like summer snow.
We have a baby and its heart is beating.
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| (The baby is between the plus signs...you can't see its heart beating but trust me, it is) |
We have been here before and I know that this is no guarantee that this baby will stay with me, but for this moment, I am pregnant and the baby looks as perfectly perfect as any mother could dream. I am indescribably happy and schedule my final appointment with the RE's office for Feb 21st (8w2d) at 3:30 pm.
I float on cloud 9 from the office and stop at the store on the way home to do some grocery shopping. I want to show the other shoppers and the cashier my tiny jelly bean photo but I somehow manage to restrain myself. I drive home thinking how silly I have been to be so worried about this pregnancy since a single previous miscarriage DOES NOT mean that you will miscarry every baby you ever conceive....and disaster strikes. While walking through the door, I feel a warm gush and head to the bathroom to confirm my fear.
I am bleeding.
Bright red, brand new blood, has pooled in my undergarments and trickled down my leg. All my previous calm and happiness vanishes and I assume that now this pregnancy is EXACTLY like that last one. I call my mom, and I start to cry, and cry, and cry, and cry. They are not kidding when they say pregnant women are emotional. Even after the first 30 minutes of crying when I start mentally pulling it together and telling myself that the bleeding could just be due to cervical irritation after the ultrasound, I cannot turn off the water works. Adam (the most awesome brother in the world) texts me links of other people with the same experience due to ultrasound and still I cry. I am a nurse. I know this can be NORMAL but because I lost my first baby, and because it took over a year and a half, a complete medical team, and a brand new cars worth of money to finally get pregnant again, I can only see the failure and the inadequacy of my body to do what it needs to do to make a healthy baby.
Talk about an emotional roller coaster. I have a feeling this is not the last of my worries for this pregnancy and I know that I will not begin to feel truly comfortable until we get to at least 10-12 weeks and put the time frame of the last miscarriage and this first risky trimester behind us, but, for now, I have found the emotional even ground and I will continue to hope and pray with every ounce of strength in my soul that this baby will grow to be the wonderfully healthy, beautiful child that I know Eric and I are meant to have.
