Ramsey Ramblings

Very few people are even aware of the journey we have been on, much less the roughest part of the journey we have encountered as of yet. I feel like I need to share about it to purge my heartbroken soul and to let others who are going through it know that they are not alone and that their feelings aren't just their own.

For close to a year, we have been trying to conceive. It's been an exercise in frustration. We got pregnant with Makenzie the first try and had a picture-perfect pregnancy and came home with a beautiful baby girl. This time, my PCOS has been a major road block for us. With the help of my endocrinologist however, we finally got 2 pink lines on July 19, 2012. We were ecstatic but I only shared with a handful of close friends and family "just in case". In true Tim fashion, Tim however told the world! From the beginning, something felt "off" to me.

Even though it had been 6 years since my pregnancy with Makenzie, I remembered the feelings that went along with it like it was yesterday. This time, I wasn't as tired, I wasn't sick, I didn't have food aversions yet and my emotions were just too normal. We did tell Makenzie and over the course of the first few weeks, she made some very "knowing" comments that made me uneasy--I believe in children's intuition.

Our first appointment was scheduled for right around the 7 week mark. Due to my doctor's illness, it was cancelled and rescheduled for 8am the next week. Makenzie begged and Tim relented in letting her come along. Tim and Makenzie sat anxiously on the edge of their seats as the ultrasound screen flickered to life. My hands were sweating and my heart was beating hard and fast because something just felt ominous to me. The doctor, who I have known for several years now, seemed solemn as he pointed out the yolk sac and the fetal pole, but no heartbeat was detected. He quietly finished the scan and sent Tim on to drop off Makenzie at camp while I dressed and joined him in his office.

He wanted to discuss my dates. Could there be any way that we were off by maybe a week or so? Due to our difficult journey getting there though, we had been charting dates very accurately and I knew without a doubt where I was in the pregnancy. He told me not to give up yet, but expressed his concern and sent me to the lab to check my hcg and progesterone.

The next 24 hours were hard, but we were hopeful to learn that my hcg was right where it should be. My progesterone however, was 3.3 rather than the minimum 16 so he put me on supplemental progesterone and asked me to come back in 5 days. By then, the heartbeat should undoubtedly be there.

Another hard, long 5 days passed and we arrived to still find no heartbeat. He was unwilling to give up hope however because the fetal pole had grown by 5 days worth. Back to the lab to check those levels again. Another 24 hours later, and we learned more good news! My hcg was again where it should be and my progesterone was up to above 12! He wanted me back in a week again, but this time we would check labs prior to the appointment.

We kept ourselves occupied as best we could. I got a call at work at about 11am the day of the appointment from his nurse telling me that he wanted me at his office in an hour. She would not share any more information with me. I knew it was not good.

We arrived already expecting the worst, but holding out hope nonetheless. My hcg, we were told, had only gone up a miniscule amount this time and my progesterone dropped. Again, we sat hand in hand as the ultrasound held the inevitable truth. Still no heartbeat, and this time, the fetal pole had shrunk. My heart sank and Tim finally voiced the fact that our hope was lost. The doctor expressed his condolences and told me to expect a miscarriage in the next 2 weeks unless I would like to opt for a D&C. I am a very private person and very few people have seen my tears, but they came this time no matter how hard I fought them off. Our baby was gone, and my heart was broken.

I went back to work that afternoon even though Tim begged me to come home. I can't say I was functioning, just a walking empty shell at that point, but noone knew I was even pregnant so I had to keep on keeping on. It seemed so unreal and so so unfair. We had wanted this baby so so badly and I had done everything right....prenatal vitamins, no caffeine, no artificial sweeteners, blah blah blah. Everyone around me was pregnant and enjoying good news and I was wallowing in my private grief.

The weeks passed and I still had no signs of a miscarriage and I didn't want a D&C. My doctor offered up Cytotec as a method to medically induce the miscarriage and I agreed. Thursday night, I made the mistake of reading other women's experience with Cytotec online and it scared me to death! I picked up the Cytotec and the prescribed narcotics Friday on my way home from work and took the first dose after dinner. I began to miscarry early Sunday morning while Tim and Makenzie slept and while my college roommate was posting on Facebook that her water broke and she was on her way to deliver her baby boy. How more cruel could life get?

I survived the weekend with the help of the narcotics and lots of sleep and tears and went back to work bright and early Monday morning like nothing ever happened. We never ever have pregnant patients, but in keeping with the cruelty of this journey, I had a 30 week pregnant patient that day! It was all I could do to hold it together.

Two weeks later and how am I feeling? Still heartbroken and very angry at times, but the sting of it all is dulling a bit....until I encounter someone who knew I was pregnant and I have to break the awkward news to them that we lost our baby. I look forward to getting past this and trying again. I pray that God's grace will heal my broken soul and leave me with peace, and that He will choose to bless us with a healthy beautiful baby once again to hold in our arms.