Well, my doctor confirmed what my home test indicated. I was
pregnant. I will be having a third child as I always thought even after I had
come to embraced the fact that it didn’t seem to be in the cards for us. And
since I am 35, this is now a geriatric gestation! First time I’ve been
personally associated with being geriatric.
Because of my delivery history (two weeks early with
Jackson, a month early with Natalie—who wanted to arrive 7 weeks early) my
doctor wanted to find out if my preterm labor was a fluke or due to my anatomy
set up. We scheduled an ultrasound for the next week to check.
I spent that week in disbelief, Ross spent that week looking
at properties and house designs.
The morning of my ultrasound I had a very severe pain in my abdomen.
It increased my nerves and started my head swirling with wonder if all was
going to be okay.
My eyes were swimming with the amount of water I had to drink
prior to my ultrasound. I didn’t remember it being this painful of an
experience with Jackson’s or Natalie’s first ultrasounds. I was called back and
tried not to cry over the pain of an overly full bladder that is being pressed
on from all different angles in order to get some good ultrasound pictures.
The technicians were quiet. Maybe a little too quiet if I
had been able to focus on anything other than not wetting myself. Then the
Senior Tech asked the reason for this appointment, was I spotting? Having pains? I replied that I only had the one pain this
morning, no spotting, and that this ultrasound was to check my cervical length. 'Oh'. And that’s all I got.
A few hours later, Dr Billick from my doctor’s office
called. My doctor (Dr. Kallock) was out of town, and she was sorry to tell me but the
technicians didn’t find a fetus. There was a yolk sac, but no fetus. They want
to have my blood drawn today and in two days’ time to see if my hCG numbers are
increasing or decreasing. Again, so sorry. . .
I call Ross who happened to be on his way home and we try our
best to wrap our heads around what I was just told. I get my blood work done, and
we wait for Thursday to come.
Dr Billick called me that Thursday afternoon. The numbers are still
increasing but not at the expected rate. So essentially, my body still thinks I’m
pregnant. They want me to have more blood taken on Sunday and depending on that
count we either wait to miscarry or have another ultrasound to see if it’s a
tubal pregnancy or something else.
And so we wait.
Ross and I have come to terms with the fact that this baby
isn’t happening and preparing ourselves for any “what-ifs” that might come up
depending on whatever is truly happening inside my body. Will it require
surgery, taking medicine, just waiting it out for my body to flush it out
naturally . . .
We get the news, numbers are still increasing, slightly.
Ultrasound set for the following Thursday. I also make an appointment with Dr
Kallock so we can discuss “next steps” with her in person.
Ross comes with me to the appointment. We have a different
technician. A man I’ve had before who is very chatty and very kind. I figure he’s
not going to be as stoic as the first technicians, regardless of what the scenario
is. This time I don’t drink as much water, I want to be able to concentrate on
what it happening and not my bladder.
We hear lots of “ok”s as he checks out everything, then “and
here’s your baby’s heart beat”. Wooa wooa wooa wooa. . . .
WHAT?!
Ross and I aren’t quite sure what to say. The technician
says the due date is December 21, which is exactly what we first learned at the
first doctor’s appointment. In essence, nothing had changed, yet we had been
through the wringer, and more. It was going to take us a moment to catch our
breaths and re-wrap our heads around the fact that yes, we are seriously and
completely pregnant.
