Healing

I had my "post d &c" appointment today with my OB. We had a good long talk about this particular miscarriage.

For me, this particular miscarriage was much easier to handle than my others. The day I found out I was angry, but that was mainly because I was dealt this on top of three other losses. It was much easier for me to see an empty sac on the screen and know it was over than to see a perfectly formed baby lying still, when it's heart was beating just days before.

Maybe it was also what I expected. The second my betas didn't quite double, I knew. Perhaps that is why I was beyond nervous for every appt? Even with the story or two people shared of similar betas and my nurses reassuring me it was okay, I knew it. I knew it wasn't ectopic because I felt exactly where it implanted, and I knew there was never going to be a baby or a heartbeat. Mother's intuition?  I even told my Mom that first week and it was just a matter of time. The waiting throughout this entire process from start to finish is so hard.

Now, this is not to say that blighted ovums are not traumatic to women, I am saying that in my experiences this was easier for me to handle. Any miscarriage is devastating. This is also not to say that I can or would like to endure this, or any other type of miscarriage ever again. Ever. I think I've had my fair share...and then some.

Extreme frustration came with needing another surgery to rid my body of an empty sac after all that medicine that works "95%" of the time. I always fall into that small %. I was just hoping to miscarry on my own and move on so I could be done with it.

We discussed how blighted ovums are usually an error in the chromosomes/genetics and no amount of medicines or blood thinners could have helped it. I am at peace with that. So for now I am healing, going to run a few races with my husband, and enjoy a few drinks on my weekends while we wait some more for my hcg to go back down to zero (which usually takes forever). I will also be turning to this blog to vent and continue connecting with other bloggers. I am so so glad I started this. I have met so many amazing, supportive and strong women from around the globe. This, along with strength given by my friends and family that follow has helped me tremendously.

I did have to chuckle to myself though as my "lucky/unlucky" post was written in good timing....when asked about a future pregnancy my doctor said "it's literally a roll of the dice every time, you just have to get lucky". Almost the exact same words as my RE said to me last week over the phone. As for moving forward I meet with my RE on Tuesday to discuss next steps. 

Moving forward.....again.

Unlucky?... or ...Lucky?

**Warning** I do not often talk about my daughter on this blog, but this post will. If you are a "fellow blogger" and not in a place where you can read about children, feel free to skip this one...I completely understand.


The words "lucky" and "unlucky" are used a lot when people talk about my situation. I have even used them myself.

"This many losses in a row without any medically conclusive answers could just be really bad luck"

"You are so lucky to have Nora. How is she here?"

"Your bad luck is bound to change soon"

"Next time is going to be your lucky one"
 

I struggle myself in how I look at things. Constantly. To be honest, my answer can change almost daily.
 

Four Miscarriages in a row?  For sure unlucky...

Being born with a giant wall in my uterus? Unlucky #2

Not having insurance coverage on any fertility related costs? Unlucky Kate

Having no answers and no genetic reasons to fix this? Yep, bad luck again

Needing surgeries to rid my body of the loss instead of expelling it on its own? Not my lucky day.

 

But you see, when I set my grief aside I can take a step back and look at it a little differently. In 2008, before Nora, I would sit in the clinic and watch women bring their toddlers in for a second chance at luck. I would sit with tears welling and pray "Please, please God, bless us with one, these women are so lucky they have at least one and are coming back for a bonus".

 

And I am too...I am lucky. God has blessed me. I am one of the lucky ones.





I gave birth to a healthy baby girl...

 

 

 

 I get to watch my husband be a Father...

 

 

 

We get to watch her take in all life has to offer...

 

 

 

And when I wasn't feeling so lucky after finding out about my last miscarriage my little girl said,  "Mommy, don't cry...let's just dance!"

 

Seems pretty "lucky" to me...

 

 

Although there are times when its hard for me to see past the "what ifs" and "what should have beens", I remind myself I am in a good place. Do my struggles make me angry/sad/frustrated/doubtful? Yes. I continue to pray that we are blessed again, but if Nora is all we have this family of three is pretty darn lucky.

 

 



 





 

 

 





"Doctor's Orders"

Walking into an operating room is scary stuff. Downright intimidating.  I usually hold it together until I step foot into that room.

The water works start flowing in full force.  I don't know if it's the emotional stress of going over my "not so pretty" obstetrical history for the past few hours with 15 different people or if its the instruments and tools starting me in the face that start the tears. Maybe its the anesthesiologist asking if I have a living will...or the 7 or 8 people shooting orders and medical jargon at each other, but I immediately start crying every time.

I lay down on the gurney sniffing and shaking as the tears silently rolled off my cheeks. The anesthesiologist was already prepping me for the meds.  My OB performing the surgery walked in and saw me...held my hand...looked me in the eyes and said "Katie, you will be okay...don't give up".

I was starting to drift off already and couldn't form the words in response...but in my head I was trying to say "I won't...I won't give up".



The Never Ending Miscarriage

First of all thank you to all that have visited my blog and offered support, to whomever put my news on LFCA and to my family and friends for the emails and texts.

I wish I could say that everything went great over the weekend and that for once my body did what it was supposed to and responded to the meds to get rid of the sac.

It didn't.

Still in there holding on tight. Hasn't grown since Thursday, but still there clinging to my uterus with what has to be the strongest implantation known to man. If only there was a baby in there.


I have taken four doses (yep, you read that right for those of you who have been through this)  of Misoprostol and nothing. I prepared myself for horrid pain and massive bleeding until it was all gone and nothing. Not even enough bleeding to fill a pad. Unbelievable.

So after doing anything I could to avoid a d & c (since this will be my 3rd) that is what is going to have to happen. I really prayed that after everything else this could just happen naturally for once. Wrong again. Surgery scheduled for Wednesday afternoon. It just seems as though nothing can go right.

At least hopefully then I can move on and begin to heal.

Few words

There are few words that come when trying to describe what it feels like when you are about to have your 4th miscarriage.

Number 1 on my list right now is anger.

Anger that has been built up for so long, deep in my core and has finally reached the surface.

Pure, raw, seething pain and anger.

I put every ounce of faith that God was with me.  I have been let down yet once again. 

I had a feeling from the beginning. From the second the beta's didn't skyrocket. I prayed that if it were not going to be viable to end it then.

Nope - dragged on for 3 and a half more weeks of anxious purgatory. I guess that's better than waiting until 13 weeks like I usually have to.

No heartbeat. No baby.

I'm tired of it....all of it.

I want to scream and yell and ask God why us??? Why does this keep happening to us? Two loving caring and deserving parents being put through two years of absolute hell.

I got the "these things happen" and "your body can do it" and the standard "this type of loss is usually chromosome issues".

It doesn't make it any better. Any easier.

My body failed me again. Couldn't even give me a hint that things weren't right in there.

Maybe God was with us...maybe this is "His plan" for us like everyone says. I'll tell you what, I have a lot of "soul searching" to do.

I'm tired of waiting. Now I can wait to see if this medicine works and hopefully miscarry everything this weekend. Wait for a period....wait for my plan for the next pregnancy that has already been laid out for me by my doctors...who really don't have any control over any of this. Its not up to them if this works or not. Not up to me or my family.

Pure.  Anger.

Still Moving Along

Well as usual, I was kept on my toes at this morning's appointment.

While entering the room I was told "you are still early, we are probably not going to see  a heartbeat...but we need to see the yolk sack today." I was brought into one of the 8 ultrasound rooms - and the one with what looks like the oldest machine they have.

She started looking around, then painfully jabbing and then what I feared came out of her mouth. "I can't see anything. It looks like the sac is empty". Of course I had prepared myself for the worst, as most rpl patients do...but then she says, the gestational sac is in such a tough space to scan, let's move next door to a better machine.

So away we went, wrapped in a paper gown and already thinking my next steps. But there it was, clear as day...

A yolk sack and start of the fetal pole, all measuring exactly as they should be.  Everything measuring and looking perfectly. Ahhhhhh.

Continuing all my meds and back next Thursday to check for the heartbeat. It will be amazing if I make it through this without being sent to the looney bin. I don't know why things keeps having to be dramatic! I like things drama free.


I have never been this nervous so early before. I feel like I'm constantly waiting for the bad news. I have a looooong way to go, but for this moment, still moving along.