Pregnancy After Miscarriage

People say every pregnancy is different. It's why women love to give each other pregnancy advice, and why for the most part, what worked really well for a friend, coworker, neighbor, or a random stranger may not work for you. I completely understood that having a second child would feel different than having Noah. With Noah, every single aspect of pregnancy was new. All I could think about in the moments that the rooms I was in were silent was how amazing that baby was going to be, and how a life-long dream of mine was about to come true.

When we decided to have children in the fall of 2008 when it looked like our country was about to elect our first black President we had so much hope and wonder when we looked forward to becoming parents. We were prepared for it to take several months to a year to get pregnant, and we were pleasantly surprised when we got pregnant the first month we stopped trying to not get pregnant. And while I had gestational diabetes, and Noah was born premature, my sugars were completely diet controlled and Noah was perfectly healthy and so much more than we ever dreamed he could be. Being parents was truly the most amazing thing we'd ever done. And we've done a lot of cool stuff.

It was around then that I started to think about secondary infertility. I had a conversation with someone or read an article or something and then I began to read more and more about couples that had trouble having another child. For some reason, things seemed to come too easily with Noah so I feared if we decided we wanted a sibling for him we wouldn't be able to. I had been praying for my own fertility since 5th grade so I realize that many people don't think about things like this. But I do. I also suffer from extreme optimism so I always am trying to find ways to calm my own grandiose ideas down. I've never been able to buy lotto tickets or things like that because I am convinced I will win. No matter what the odds are against me I am always shocked when the 1 in a billion odds don't go my way.

So one hot summer day last year, when Noah and I ran into growling unleashed german shepherds in the woods near our house, and I calmly explained I was a mommy to them and they moved aside to let us pass, I was confused. The only other time in my life animals had been that nice to me was when I was pregnant with Noah. Animals seem to sense those sorts of things. And the next day when I felt the same feeling I felt with Noah in the car that there was an extra little spirit with us, I decided to take a pregnancy test even though we were not trying or even trying not to try not to get pregnant. If that makes sense. When the test came back positive and three more after it, I couldn't believe it. The timing was earlier than we had planned, but we were so incredibly excited.

And when I lost the baby when we were traveling to Seattle with Ash for work. I was completely devastated. It took me a very long time to even be able to talk about it without crying. In fact, I had just really become comfortable with it when we decided it was time to start trying again. The week our other baby would have been born, I had that same little magical there's another spirit in the room with us feeling. Breastfeeding Noah felt like someone was cutting me with shards of glass.

And so, even though it was six days before my expected period I took an early response pregnancy test. Sure enough it came back positive. I spent the next three weeks checking the toilet frantically for any signs of miscarriage. I was convinced that it couldn't be. I had done such a good job of preparing myself for the worst case scenario that it was hard to be truly ecstatic the way I was with Noah. I would have moments where I jumped up and down out of pure joy that we were having a second baby to only be overcome with the sinking feeling that something had to be wrong. I should stop being so excited. I didn't want to let myself down. It couldn't be this easy to have another baby.

Around 6 weeks 5 days into the pregnancy, I woke up with a sharp pain in the lower left side of my belly. "This is it, I told you." I said to myself. I called Ash at work and let him know that something was wrong. Pains like this weren't normal, and if he could he should stay near a phone in case I had to go to the doctor. I called my midwife's office, and they said to lay down for an hour and drink tons of water, but to call immediately if the pain didn't change or subside in that time. They didn't know I have the most active toddler in the world, but somehow I coaxed Noah into laying on the couch and reading books for most of the hour. The pain didn't go away, in fact, I felt like it might be worse. So I called back and they asked me to come right in. Ash stayed home with Noah, and I headed in to meet with one of the OBs that works with the midwife practice I'm seeing.

A cheerful middle-aged male OB came in and talked to me. He gave me an exam then told me they had to make sure the baby was in the right place in my uterus, and that I was going to have an ultrasound. I explained to him that I had a miscarriage the previous fall. He was very reassuring but not in an obnoxious way, and then said, "Let's go to the good machine. It'll let us hear a heartbeat too."

We headed to the ultrasound room and sure enough the baby was in the right place and we immediately heard a strong little heartbeat. He was beaming. "That's a good sign, right?" I asked cautiously. "That's your strong baby! Everything is perfect. You have internal bleeding because you most likely just had an ovarian cyst rupture. It'll hurt for a couple more days. But the baby is doing great!"

I cried happy tears.

And then, I stopped checking the toilet when I peed. I knew I needed to let myself be happy. That lasted a while until I woke up with a migraine type of headache and when I got what was either the stomach flu or food poisoning. I began to check the toilet again for any sign of anything wrong.

We're near 13 weeks now, and even though anything can happen at any time, statistically there is much less of a chance of that. But I can't help but worry whenever something feels wrong. I imagine it's going to be like this for the rest of the pregnancy and the upcoming birth. And I imagine I will always make cautious comments about this pregnancy. It's been a lot tougher for me physically and emotionally than being pregnant with Noah was.

I think I have to accept that while these children are different and I have an infinite amount of love for each of them, so am I. I am not the carefree, idealistic mother-to-be that I once was. Life has changed me and that's okay. It's who I am. And it doesn't mean I'm less excited about this baby or love it any less than Noah. It just means I love it differently because I am different now. And that's okay.