I know. I know. I haven’t posted in 9 months. You guys have been incredibly kind and patient with me. This year has been kicking my butt. And a crap ton has happened. Like, A LOT. I’ve thought about blogging again for a long time, but it has just been too hard. If you remember, before my break I had been sharing about my personal life, and more specifically, about our journey with infertility. (If you want to check those out, this is part 1, part 2, and part 3, and part 4.) And I knew what the next post would be about following my last post about my tumor. And I didn’t want to write it. I didn’t. So I haven’t. For a long time. But now it is time. It is time to share. It is time to heal. It is time to rip off the bandaid and share about even more heartbreak.
Just a warning: this post is going to be fast and hard. There is a lot to share and I just don’t have it in me to linger on the details. So here we go.
Just 3 days after my surgery to remove Ugly Betty, I was due to get my period again. But following the surgery, there is supposed to be period like bleeding. So I didn’t think anything when I bleed for a week following surgery. I just assumed surgery bleeding and my period just happened to coincide. Ten days after my surgery, I was feeling “off”. I didn’t know why. On a fluke, I decided to take a pregnancy test. Why? Because when you’ve been trying to get pregnant for 3 years, that is always your first thought. And much to my surprise, the test came back with a very definite positive. Uh… WHAT!?
We were thrilled! And terrified. Partially because we had already had 2 miscarriages in the past. We knew the possibilities. Partially because I had surgery 10 days earlier! What if it had hurt the baby!? I immediately called my OB (who also performed my surgery), and he had me come in to get a blood test. Everything checked out! I was, in fact, pregnant! Then I went in 2 days after my initial blood draw to make sure my hormone levels were increasing as they should. I knew something was wrong as soon as I picked up the phone. My levels were dropping. It was a sign that the baby was already gone. This would be our third miscarriage. It was just a matter of time.
A week later, I miscarried our baby at 6 weeks. Timing didn’t make sense. The only thing that made sense was that I was pregnant during the surgery. There was no way we could have known. I took a blood test a week before the surgery to confirm I wasn’t pregnant. And then, for good measure, I peed on a stick the day before my surgery. All negative. No one was to blame. We couldn’t have known. It was agonizing. I was heartbroken. I have no clue why we miscarried that time. It was either the surgery or my history of chronically low progesterone. Either way, I didn’t care. I just cared that we had lost our third baby.
It was hard. Obviously. But it was a familiar grief. An old acquaintance you never wanted to see again. But we knew we would survive. We had survived before. But our hearts were heavy. I battled a lot of anger following the loss of our third baby. But, by God’s grace, He saw me through that dark time and I started to let go of my anger.
Flash forward to July 2015. My periods had become much more regular thanks to me taking a new medication for my PCOS, my doctor instructing me to take Progesterone pills as soon as I ovulated (in case I got pregnant), and religiously using my all time favorite essential oil that changed my life – Young Living’s Progessence Plus. I honestly don’t even remember the exact circumstances. But it had been the allotted time and I took another pregnancy test. POSITIVE! What!? AGAIN!? Previously our history had been getting pregnant once a year. Now a second time!? We were so so surprised. And again, holding our breath. We had never had positive test that were followed by good news.
As usual, blood work was done and for the first time, things were good! My progesterone levels were good. Levels were increasing! It was exciting. We made it to 6 weeks went in for a viability ultrasound to make sure the baby was in there and growing. All we saw was the amniotic sac. Couldn’t see the baby. But that wasn’t alarming. Sometimes 6 weeks is too early to see anything. My OB said to come back in a week and we would recheck. He was sure everything was going to be fine. “Fourth time’s the charm, ” he said. We had hope and prayed like crazy for this little one to be our miracle baby.
Fast forward 5 days. I woke up with some mild cramping. It was noticeable but not too concerning. Cramping can be normal in early pregnancy. As the day went on, I started to bleed. Then I started to bleed more. David and I went to the ER (since it was a Friday night) to get things checked out. But we already assumed our “little love” was gone. After 5 hours in the ER, it was confirmed that we had lost our fourth baby at 7 weeks. Again there was no explanation. My progesterone levels were good. All we can assume is that there was something genetically wrong with this baby. Something in the DNA. It just wasn’t meant to be.
We felt numb. There weren’t a ton of tears this time. They came in the following weeks. It just felt… I don’t know… like the expected outcome. I know that sounds terrible. This baby made it farther than any of the other three. I think numb is the best way to describe it.
And that is where this part is going to end. I realize that I may not sound like my normal self. This has been a rough year. I feel like I’ve been beaten up. BUT, I will leave you with this teaser: the story is about to get better, happier. If you follow me on instagram you already know. And I promise that I won’t wait another 9 months to share that.