After 1265 days, we finally saw something we never thought we'd see. After over 3 1/2 years, numerous failed medicated cycles, 2 failed iuis and 1 failed ivf cycle, we were finally pregnant. We finally saw those two pink lines we have prayed for for so long.
The next few days were filled with utter happiness. We laughed, we smiled from ear to ear, we let ourselves hope that our painful journey was finally over. We told our parents and siblings.
Then, one day, I saw red. My heart dropped. There wasn't a lot of blood, so I thought maybe it wasn't a miscarriage. Maybe there was hope that I wasn't loosing this dream I had been fighting to hard and so long for, but I knew something was wrong. I hoped I was wrong, but somewhere inside me I knew that something was off.
The next couple of days I was terrified. The bleeding kept up and finally subsided, just before my follow up blood test. That day I thought I got good news; the doctor said my numbers had doubled but he wanted to check again in a few days because they weren't high enough.
When I went back in, I thought maybe I was ok, the bleeding had stopped and I felt a bit better, though still nauseous. As I hadn't heard from the doctor yet, and had been waiting in the waiting room for a while, I looked in my patient portal, the Web page that they input all of your test results. As I sat in the waiting room, I stared at my phone in disbelief and complete heartbreak. My HCG levels had dropped significantly.
I tried to stay strong, since Abby was in the waiting room with me. A few tears slipped out as I went through what the doctor might say.
When they finally called me back, after being sat in the doctor's office, my doctor came in and looked like he might cry. He sat down and asked if I had been bleeding. When I said yes, he looked down. He told me that because of my levels and the fact that I had bleeding, that I had a miscarriage, but our best hope was that both babies implanted but one miscarried while the other was still ok. He said I should be cautiously optimistic and come back in a few days later to check and see if one made it.
That awful M word. The word that I had been dreading ever since we started trying. I lost my baby, but I had to hope I still had one left. I had to be cautiously optimistic.
But hearing the doctor say miscarriage wasn't the worst thing. While it was heartbreaking, it wasn't the hardest part. The most heartbreaking thing was having Abby with me. Since she is 5, and very aware, she has known about the IVF's, and much of what we've gone through to try to have another baby. She was there when we took the pregnancy test, and when we got confirmation from the doctor. She was so excited to be a big sister, she couldn't wait to tell our family.
But that day, in the doctor's office, her little heart sank. She looked at me as I couldn't hold my tears in any more and what was wrong. The only thing I could do was tell her the truth, as much as I could to a 5 year old. I told her we lost of of the babies and we didn't know if the other one was ok. She looked at me, with weapy eyes, and asked if we were still going to have a baby, I said, "I don't know." She asked if she would be a big sister, and I barely choked out, " I don't know."
Now, the shock has passed. The tears are still flowing and fresh, and our hearts still ache. But now we wait. We wait to hear if we've lost both babies, or if we might still have our miracle baby, our rainbow after this horrific storm.
I need my rainbow. I need it for Abby, for Chris. I need it for me.
Now we pray. That's all we can do. Pray and wait...
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