I think prior to this experience I believed that
because pregnancy was a physical change that happened to your body it was
pretty black and white as to what was happening whether this was good or bad.
Apparently I was wrong and that is one of the biggest lessons I learned from my
pregnancy.
In an older post I talk about how I found out I was pregnant. At the same time as this I was booked in for an ultrasound to check that it wasn't an ectopic pregnancy and maybe to double check I wasn't a few months pregnant. As I figured
I would be sent home from the scan as I must only be the tiniest bit pregnant I had insisted Husband stay at work.
I went in
for my scan which ended up being internal as nothing could be seen on the
normal ultrasound (lets not go into exactly what an internal scan entails, my mother reads this after all).
After only a
few minutes the sonographer turned to me and said ‘I’m really sorry I can’t see
anything, I think something has gone wrong with the pregnancy. There are some
tissues on the side there, you can wait in the reception area and a nurse will
speak with you shortly’. She then walked off to her desk to record my scan.
Devastated
is only one part of what I felt. I also equally felt embarrassed, humiliated
not to mention completely bewildered. I had three tests confirming I was
pregnant, I’d had no bleeding, what was going on? I have never felt so
vulnerable in my life up until this point. I put my clothes on as best I could
and returned to the waiting room. I began scolding myself for ever believing I
could have been pregnant, I started to tell myself that I must be so desperate
to have a baby my body produced some kind of hormone and tricked all three
tests. This sounds preposterous now but it felt very logical at the time. All
of a sudden the tears came just to add to the feeling of utter humiliation.
After what
felt like hours I was called back in with the nurse. I was not shown a picture
of the scan. She explained to me that I had what was called a molar pregnancy
and she was very clear that this pregnancy was not and would never be viable. I
had no idea what she was talking about, I had heard of miscarriages, missed
miscarriages, stillbirth but what on earth was a molar pregnancy? According to
her it affects around 1 in 600 pregnancies every year and is a genetic
abnormality caused by a faulty egg or two sperm fertilising one egg. To be
honest the scientific mumbo jumbo isn’t important. The rest of the conversation
I had with the nurse isn’t important, what is important however is that she was
insistent that this pregnancy would never develop into a healthy baby. She did
reassure me however that I could and would have lots of healthy babies in the
future.
Speaking
with a couple of friends who have experienced miscarriages I am aware that this
seems to be a common phrase to say to women who have experienced or are
experiencing the loss of a baby. I’m sure it comes from a good place; people
want to reassure you that you will have a family in the future. Although this
comes from a good place, here is how it sounds to the women who are going
through a loss or how it at least sounded to me.
A life was
created inside you and now it is dying or has died. There is nothing you can do
to stop it and there is no reason why it has happened. You will have a baby in
the future however and forget this one ever existed as you all walk off into
the sunset to live happily ever after.
Wherever you
are with your grief the last thing you wish to be told is that you will one day
move on. It made me feel dirty, how could I ever forget this tiny life? The
first tiny life I created that was so cruelly taken away. For me (and maybe for
other first time mums) it took away the wonderful feeling of excitement of
finding out you’re pregnant, that no matter how many positive pregnancy tests
you get from now on they would all be tainted by this loss.
After this
devastating news I still had to walk home, collect my car and pick Husband up
from work.
I still had
to phone him and break the news to him, how was I going to tell him his
baby wasn’t a baby? Even though I knew it was absurd I felt that in some way
this was my fault, that I had raised his hopes of becoming a dad only to crush
them. I think I phoned him and said ‘it’s not good news’. I can’t remember much
else of what happened before getting home and I don’t want to. I do remember
being at home sitting on Husband's knee crying my heart and soul out; I don’t
think I have felt so awful emotionally in my entire life. The feeling of loss and
disgust was indescribable. I felt disgusted and spooked by the idea that there
was a strange cystic mass inside me.
Grief changes people, even if it’s only temporarily. I found
myself having some very dark thoughts, mainly the thought of wanting rid of
whatever was in my uterus. I actually prayed that I would start to bleed and
miscarry, I prayed for it as hard as I had prayed to become pregnant.
Following my first scan I had several blood tests to check my hCG levels. One of these blood tests took place at that maternity unit. I sat and waited surrounded by bumps of varying sizes, watching mum and dads to be cooing over the scans of their babies whilst mine was dead or dieing. It was like the worst kind of torture I could imagine. The tests showed that my hCg levels were at a level for a normal pregnancy rather then higher then usual as was typical with a molar pregnancy. I was called back in for other scans which continued to show cysts inside my womb but also showed the firs signs of a developing baby.
At around 6
or 7 weeks we went for a scan with a consultant. I was incredibly nervous. At
previous scans we had been told that Alice was developing but there were also
cysts in my uterus. It had pretty much ruled out a ‘full’ molar pregnancy but
there was still a chance that it was a partial molar.
The scan
with the consultant showed Alice was continuing to grow and develop despite the
cysts still being there. It was also one of my most memorable scans as the
consultant pointed to this tiny white flickering light and told us that it was Alice’s
heartbeat. This tiny thing that looked like baked bean had a heartbeat, it was
alive. Alice was alive! I have never felt so protective in my entire life. In
my mind (although I know it wasn’t quite like this) Alice was fighting all the
odds to survive. Her resilience gave me strength that no matter how painful it
might prove to be I would not give up on her or the idea of her. I couldn’t
believe that only 2 weeks before I had been explicitly told that this was not a
viable pregnancy,it never would be and that a D&C would be arranged.
A scan at
around 9 or 10 weeks showed that Alice was developing perfectly normally and
the cysts had miraculously disappeared. To this day no one has been able to
tell us what they were, to be honest I don’t think anyone cares which on the
one hand is great but sometimes I think it is rather sad that we were put
through such misery for nothing. The cystic structures did need investigating
yes, but to inform a couple that the baby they want and already love is lost when
there was in fact a chance this wasn’t the case is shocking. I don’t believe
they listened to what I had to say about far along I was with my pregnancy,
they didn’t entertain the idea that it might be far too early to see anything.
One of the best days ever! The first picture we ever got of our little girl. |
Although
this experience was a terrible one I did grow because of it and I learned a
great deal along the way.
Professionals
are human too, they are capable of error and a second opinion should be
considered. There is a chance that you will remain disappointed but then
nothing is lost. If you ignore your gut instinct and act without a second
opinion you could lose everything including part of yourself.
We now call Alice our ‘impossible girl’ because it seems so unlikely that she
should be here. I only ovulated on 2 other occasions that year. What were the
chances that I ovulated on a day that did not fit in with any other cycle I’ve
had before or since, that we just so happened to not use contraception in time
to catch the egg, that this egg was then fertilised, implanted and we just so
happen to find out early enough for me to start taking care of myself. If we
had not gone to Urgent Care that night I would not have done another pregnancy
test and we would not have discovered I was pregnant until a few months later
when I had an ultrasound to find out why I wasn’t having periods (imagine how
embarrassing that would have been!). On top of all of this what were the
chances that I would be wrongly diagnosed with a molar pregnancy when there was
at least some evidence to suggest this pregnancy would not be viable? Even
after all of this the diagnosis turned out to be incorrect and we had a healthy
low risk pregnancy ans we now have a healthy, happy nearly one year old.
Alice at 3 months old, her first Christmas. Here she is dreaming of Santa. |
What a rollercoaster, I felt quite emotional reading this. I can't even imagine how tough it must have been for you- I found the first 12 weeks to be such a worrying time, and I had a textbook pregnancy. That first scan with a heartbeat must have been such an incredible experience. Xx
ReplyDeleteHi Helen,
ReplyDeleteIt was amazing especially as I had expected to see nothing or a growth. Pregnancy is so worrying I never realised before, it's crazy!