Inconceivable: Two, One, None
It is so hard when people ask me when our five-year-old son, Colton, is going to get a sibling. They mean well, but they have no idea the can of worms they are opening up.
Colton is very observant. He knows we are trying for another baby. I’ve tried to explain it to him like a garden. We plant a seed and sometimes the baby seed doesn’t grow.
He knew we were pregnant last summer and even asked me about it. I was with him at a friend’s birthday party when I started heavily bleeding. I ended up at the ER.
When my husband and I got home, Colton asked us if we had had the baby. We had to break the news to him that the baby was gone – the seed didn’t grow right.
When we got pregnant in April (on the weekend the previous baby was due), I was sure things were going to be OK. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel to take another baby away.
I had severe back pain and when to the ER on Mother’s Day. After ultrasounds and blood tests, the doctors said I was carrying twins. I felt like it was God giving me back the baby we had lost.
A follow-up with the nurse practitioner at my OBGYN office revealed that there was only one embryo. That appointment felt rushed and the office messed up the booking of my next appointment, so I contacted my OB with concerns. She called me and while on the phone, took a look at my ultrasound.
“Your yolk sac is measuring large. That is usually a sign of an impending miscarriage. Not an absolute, but usually,” she said.
My heart sank. I collapsed onto the floor in tears. Why didn’t the nurse tell me this? She acted like things were fine. And knowing we had a miscarriage nine months prior, how could this OB tell me this coldly over the phone.
Since this wasn’t first issue with this particular OBGYN’s office, I ended up waiting two weeks until I could get into a new OBGYN. Two weeks of waiting to see if I was going to start bleeding. I was afraid to use the bathroom. I would pray before peeing and literally shake while I was grabbing toilet paper.
Every day I woke up not knowing if this was the last day of this pregnancy. By the time I made it to the new OBGYN, I was so scared. I trembled on the ultrasound table and I came undone when she told us that the pregnancy wasn’t viable. My little sac looked like a busted deflated balloon.
It was one of the worst moments of my life. I thought I was OK since I hadn’t had any bleeding (which was the sign of the first miscarriage). I went from two babies to one to none in a matter of weeks.
Our OBGYN gave us three options: Wait it out and let the tissue pass naturally, do a dilation and curettage, more commonly known as a D&C, or take a medication to pass the tissue. We opted for the medication (a series of suppositories) because the D&C had a risk of scar tissue.
When we got home, we had to tell Colton that the seed didn’t grow and he wasn’t going to get a sibling yet. We told him it would take a little longer. He responded by saying he wanted the “sick baby” instead.
It took about a week of medication and repeated doctor visits and ultrasounds to clear my body of the tissue. It took almost two months to get the HCG pregnancy hormone out of my system.
My body still felt pregnant. My hormones were still a mess, and I was grieving. But something was different about this grief. This time, our OBGYN did everything she could to help us heal.
From sitting with me while I cried in her office to helping us leave out of a back exit, we felt like our doctor actually cared.
Our previous OBGYN’s office treated our first loss like it was no big deal. During our first miscarriage, they let me sit in the office for hours amid the pregnant women. I sobbed on an off until I was finally seen by a doctor – 15 minutes before they closed for the day. I was the last person seen that day. The doctor just told to wait it out and see if I bleed again. I was at the ER within 24 hours.
We opted to see a fertility doctor to find out if there was a reason behind our miscarriages. The quality of care we have received there has also been outstanding.
The doctors aren’t the only people who have helped us get through this tough time. Our son has been a huge part of the recovery process. At first, I felt terrible because we weren’t giving him another sibling yet.
A few months ago, he asked us if we could adopt a child. I’m open to it, but wanted to see the fertility treatments through first.
But when he saw me crying recently, Colton said “Mommy, it is OK. I am fine being an only child for a while. I can have a sibling when I’m older and can help take care of it.”
I was so worried that he wasn’t going to be close enough in age to his brother or sister. Like every passing month was going to ruin his relationship with his future sibling. But I was looking at it all wrong. He will be the older sibling. The big brother, the helper, the protector.
How have you approached miscarriages and fertility issues with your children? Have you kept them in the dark or opened up? And how far apart are your children?
Kathy is a mom of one and Out & About editor for WRAL.com. She writes weekly for Go Ask Mom about her experience with secondary infertility.
