So, maybe a little background on my situation? I am currently 31 years old and for most of my adult life I have been trying to have a child. My issues have never been in conception, however always in actually carrying past the first trimester. It all started when I was 20 years old. This was the first time I actually saw a pregnancy test come up positive after I had taken it. Excited, I made an appt with my doctor to ensure everything was fine. Went to the appt, and was greeted by a happy doctor and jovial staff that congratulated me and gave me gifts of cutsie, fun stuff for pregnant mothers. It was guessed that I would be about 6 weeks pregnant. Of course I had all the standard blood tests, and had never been happier to allow someone to jam a needle into my delicate veins. I went home afterwards feeling full, and excited for the new part of my life that was about to start. I was thinking of names, wondering about hair and eye color, and naturally thinking about gender. I wanted a little girl, a little girl that I could dress up and give advise to, laugh with and love. Of course I was open to a boy, but my heart was set on a girl.
Later that week, I got a call from the doctors office. They had some not so encouraging news for me. My HcG levels were not where they needed to be. They were very low, in fact so low that the doctor was surprised there was enough HcG in my system to indicate pregnancy with the home test. I was ordered to come in immediately to another blood test, which of course I did right away. The next day I started to bleed, this told me everything I needed to know, this told me that I had failed. Told me that I needed to now go to all of my friends and family that I had so joyously told that I was expecting, and now tell them that I wasn't. No way I was prepared for this. I had not even thought about the possibility of a miscarriage!!!!! This did not even exist to me. Needless to say I was crushed, and I did not think anyone could even slightly know what I was going through. As I had suspected, the Doctors office called with devastating news; my hormone level had dropped substantially. The Doctors office used the term abortion, which mortified me even more. I did not then understand that abortion is the term for any pregnancy ended before term.
Years went by, and I repeated this same saga 2 more times. My Doctor seemed to be attentive and caring by scheduling tests, drawing blood, and referring me to a specialist. I had several ultrasounds which diagnosed poly cystic ovarian syndrome or PCOS, hundreds of tiny cysts scattered all over my ovaries, raising my testosterone levels an effecting ovulation. I was on a schedule of blood tests to ensure that I was ovulating, and that my hormone levels were where they needed to be for fertilization. I had an HSG to check for blockage in my tubes, a test in which was very invasive and uncomfortable. It involves the doctor giving you fertility drugs to open everything up, giving you a cytotec tablet to insert into the vagina the night before the test to dialate your cervix, then inserting a syringe with dye through your cervix and into your uterus. The dye in injected and they watch on an xray screen as the dye fills your uterus then Fallopian tubes and spills out in the junction between them and the ovaries. This procedure is very painful!! I was very upset that my Dr had not warned me at all that this would be so traumatic. Also more upsetting was how the xray picture of my uterus and tubes showed not the pear shaped cavity we had all expected, but instead a cavity that looked very much like extreme bunny ears. I went home that day with a picture of my very strange uterus, and more questions then I had answers. I also had assurance from my doctor that she would be calling me in a couple of days with the answers I wanted, after she had some time to do some research.
2 weeks later, after worrying myself to death about the possibilities I called my Doctors office demanding answers. How dare she make me wait so long!! She called me back, and of course apologised for her delay in calling explaining that she had been very ill, but had checked on my "problem". She explained that there appeared to be a septum in my uterus. The chances of miscarriage are approx the same with the septum, as with people who had had the septum removed. She was unsure what to do in this situation, so she suggested that I see a specialist. She gave me the names and numbers of some really exceptional specialists, Doctors could give me a better idea of what was going on. The next day, I discovered that I was pregnant again. Remember the fertility drugs, the ones that I took in prep for the procedure from hell?? Yes folks, thanks to them I encountered pregnancy #4 and the subsequent miscarriage #4. Then a few days of misguided hope by the knowledge that fertility drugs increase the chances of multiples exponentially. Could I still be? More blood, more bad news. I gave up.
I did not make my next move for nearly 2 years. I let things happen naturally, after all she did say the chances were the same with or without it. 1 more miscarriage (#5), then nothing for awhile. I can't really explain to you where my mind was at this time. I had more or less just given up, and accepted the fact that I would never experience this joyous thing of having children. Taking comfort in my life as a solitary being, being untied by the obligation of parenting. I learned to appreciate it as I watched my friends around me all becoming parents. While still being secretly resentful every time someone I knew or loved learned that they were expecting. Then finding out what they were having, feeling the baby kick, the excitement of ultrasounds, watching them grow bigger, then came the drama of birth and the following adoration of family and friends far and wide. I really wanted all of this for me, I was mad that I couldn't have it! I tried desperately to show a brave face. Deep down I was really happy for all of my friends and family, I was just blinded by a green haze called jealousy.
I finally went to the specialist that my Dr had suggested. He was a smart looking handsome man that seemed to have all the answers right away. He asked all the standard questions about my cycles and my hormones. Took one look at the xray pictures of my misshapen uterus and diagnosed me as having a septum in my uterus that was dividing it in half, and also did not have any blood supply. Resulting in pregnancies not having enough room to work with and an entire wall of flesh that has no blood supply. Anything even attempting to attach there would be an immediate failure, IE: miscarriage. Surgery was what I needed, a grand surgery that was going to be the answer to all of my prayers. Rendering my uterus once again useful, and functioning. The only question was, would my entire uterus be shaped as a bunny head on crack as a whole? Or just the inside cavity of my womb? If just the inside was shaped oddly, then the chances for success were greater. If my whole uterus was shaped this way, there would be problems one way or the other. I scheduled my surgery that day.
A few weeks later found me in a beautiful surgery center, that looked more like a hotel then a medical center. I was scared to death, I had never in my life had surgery before. It was explained to me that I would be put to sleep, then a small hole would be made in my belly button, accompanied by a small incision in my groin area. They would be filling me with air and inserting a camera into my abdomen to visualize my the exterior surface of my baby maker. They also informed me that instruments would be inserted through my vagina and cervix, and into my uterus. Needless to say I was terrified. It was not until I was actually in the OR, climbing onto the table in which they were going to do the deed, that I realized my whole womanly business was about to be exposed to the entire room. I could feel the line in the table where it was meant to break away, and expose stirrups, and give enough room for the doctor to be nose to nose with my vagina. They kept prompting me to scoot a little this way, scooch down a little more. Finally ready, they injected me with night night juice just as I was doing a head count of people that were going to be inspecting and examining my unprepared bikini line. I went under asking the hot anesthesiologist to stay by my head, not be peaking. He returned with "I have to stay by your head, to keep you alive", then down I went. It seemed like a blink of an eye later when I woke up, wheeling down a long hallway with the lights passing overhead. Like something out of a movie, the rectangle lights just passed and passed over my head. I tried to get out of the bed, only to be held down by a nurse trying explain that I was just waking up from surgery. When I woke up again, the doctor was at my bedside in his scrubs, telling me some gibberish that I could not understand. I turned my head to look for my mom, when I looked back at him he was in a suit! Confused, I said to him "man you change quick". He retorted with "well I have been gone an hour". Being a little more awake this time I was able to understand that my surgery went well, he had been able to remove all of the septum, zapped away a few spots of endometriosis, then put everything back where it needs to be. He told me that the outside of my uterus is shaped just fine and that I should be good to go from here on out. I went home with minor pain, and excitement about the possibilities.
I waited, and I waited, then I waited some more. Nothing happened.... for 3 more years nothing happened. I did not even get pregnant! I thought for sure that the Doctors must have really messed me up this time. I should have never had that surgery, at least before the surgery I would get pregnant. I again, gave up...this time for good.
January 2007, quite unexpectedly, I get pregnant........miscarriage #6. June 2007, miscarriage #7; February 2008, miscarriage #8. Each time I would go to the doctor with hopes high, only to start bleeding the next day. Don't ask me what changed... why the sudden surge of pregnancies, I have no clue! Each of my miscarriages have been between weeks 5-8, so imagine my surprise when in August of '08 I come up pregnant again only to carry this one past 8 weeks!! It was the start of the 8th week when I made the decision to stop seeing my Doctor and find a new one. I really had no choice to stop seeing my Doctor as she had become very ill and went on a medical retirement. I was none too happy with the young whipper snapper that was taking her place. That is a whole other story, but the bottom line was, this has got to stop!! I need someone who will give me the answers I need!! After consulting with my best friend, who had been blessed with 4 gorgeous children, I decided to start seeing her Doctor. I called, I explained the situation and gave them a brief account of my history. The girl on the phone seemed very excited at the fact that I would be 9 weeks pregnant and made me an appt with the OB coordinator right away.
A week later, I started spotting. On the same day as my appt with the OB coordinator, I start lightly spotting. I took comfort in the fact that the spotting was very lite, and the blood was very pink, and that spotting is common in the first trimester. I went to my appt, and of course they gave me lots of cutsie baby type stuff and some vitamins. When I told her about the spotting, she wanted me to have an ultrasound right away. That day... could I wait around for an hour or so to have one? Of course I could!! This excited me, I was going to get to see my baby that day!! I waited, and I went in. I got up on the table, and could hardly contain my excitement about the ultrasound. The tech went to work right away. She moved the wand around, moved it some more, and more...after about 3 minutes of her not saying anything, and her not turning the screen, I asked her "do you see anything?" She said, "well I definitely see a sac". That was all I needed to hear, my heart just sank. It was hard for me to hold my tears as she finished up and printed me a lovely picture of an empty sac. I left out of there and had to go down the hall to the lab for a blood draw, where the tech asked me happily "is this your first?", I simply stated "no". As I walked out the door I broke. I had never felt sooo heart broken in my life, I just sobbed all the way to my car, carrying the bag of cutsie baby stuff they had supplied me with. I cried of course all the way home. I walked in the door and pitched the bag of goodies at the wall with enough furry to put a hole in it. I was sooo mad, I had never been so mad. How could god do this to me? Crack heads all over America were having crack babies every day and I couldn't have one? People were stuffing new borns in trashcans or leaving them on doorsteps to freeze and I couldn't have one? Really god? That's how it is between us??!
A few days later is when the miscarriage started. It was the middle of the night and I was awoke by the worst pain I had ever felt. At this point I was carrying a 10.5 week sac and new that shedding it was not going to be a happy process, but I had not expected the pain that I was in. All of my other miscarriages were like really bad menstrual cramps and bad periods. This I suppose was like labor!! I would spend 2 minutes in the worse pain I had ever felt, and get a break for a minute and a half. It was agony, and I hated every minute of it naturally. It went on like that all night, and for most of the next day. By the end I was exhausted and swore I would never do this again. I went to my follow up appt a week later wanting to discuss birth control. My doctor was not open to this, she wanted a chance to make this happen for me. I relented.
A week later I get a call from the Doctors office, they want me to come in and have a shot of Rhogam. Why, I inquire of the girl whom I was speaking with. "Well Rhogam is an injection that is needed by negative blood type mothers, so that the babies antibodies do not mix with the mothers". Yes I reply, all this I already know, but my question is why do I need a shot of Rhogam? To which she replies..."Well ma'am, you are blood type O-, therefore you need the shot". I smartly reply, "you've made some sort of mistake, my blood type is A+ just like my dads." She argues with my that my blood type is definitely O-, the typing test is a standard test they do in all pregnancies. I will need to come and get the shot. I hang up feeling soo confused and sort of angry. Why had my mother told me forever that my blood type is A+ if its not. Of course my first call was to my mother who shockingly replies, "your blood type is A+ and I have the crib card to prove it!" Call a friend of mine who works at the American Red Cross, she agreed to draw my blood and check it. Why? Because there is no way I am going to take the word of this Doctors office without checking it out myself. A few hours later the results are in, and without question my blood type is O-. Not a week O-,but a very strong O-. This opens up a who new ballgame for me. Is this the reason for all my miscarriages? Why did my last Doctor never check my blood type? Should I sue her? (My mother and father think so, but I feel I need to have a baby first to prove that the blood type this was the issue.) Of course I go and get the shot, and that was that.
February of '09 I have a tubal pregnancy. That was horrible and that's all that really needs to be said about that. I didn't even know I was pregnant, to me I was on my period because I was bleeding a little. Luckily it was caught soon enough that no damage was really done. But it was not an experience I am excited to repeat.
So, whats happening now you ask? As of today I am currently 5weeks and 5days pregnant. So far everything is looking good. My hormones are doubling as they should, I "feel" pregnant, and I feel nauseous almost 24hrs a day. So again I say "here we go again". This time I am hopeful that with all the mess of the last 11 years we have finally gotten all of the mishaps that could happen out of the way, and I will successfully carry a baby to term. I am cautiously optimistic and trying not to be ambivalent. I am as we speak, waiting for a call from my Doctor for news on yesterdays hormone check blood draw.
Why did I write all this? As sort of a therapy I suppose. A way to come to grips with all that has happened. And hopefully to log all the incredible things that might happen over the next months. Or to log the disappointment, who knows. I did not write this for sympathy, or for people to feel sorry for the "poor girl who can't have kids". I never wanted to be her, which might be why I never really have addressed the subject. It is what it is, and nothing more.
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