This is the type of post I never imagined I would ever type out. But sometimes things happen, and The Lord has other plans for us.
I had minor spotting ONCE the Monday before we were scheduled for our first ultrasound.
July 10 (Friday) was scheduled to be our first ultrasound, at a new office. I had originally decided a new office because the location was closer than our last office we used with Annestyne, and I was planning a homebirth with this child.
We arrived at the office, Annestyne in tow. Chad's mom kept Hasting for us. I knew going in I should have been 9 weeks. We were excited, and had no sense of nervousness in our bodies. I had been feeling every symptom, very strongly. I was sure a healthy child was thriving within me. I'd had 2 precious perfectly healthy pregnancies. So going in to the doctors office feeling confident was expected.
The nurse was really nice. We talked about A's birth and how awesome it was. Went over previous births, pregnancies, and medical history.
She performed a transvaginal ultrasound and I could tell the look on her face was off. She said, "when was the first day of your last menstrual period?" And I told her May 5th. She began expressing concerns of the measurement of the baby being off, and the sac/pole measurements not lining up, and no heartbeat. Our baby should have been measuring 9 weeks and was measuring 6 weeks exactly. She mentioned ectopic pregnancy and early loss and I completely lost it.
The first feeling you get when you hear this is "Why me? What's wrong with me? Did I do something?". At one point, her words became a big blur to me, and I just wanted to get dressed and leave.
She gave me a moment to cry, and came back in. Annestyne was antsy, so we moved to a room with a TV. A midwife came in and explained to me that an ectopic pregnancy was ruled out. She explained that I could go to the hospital for another ultrasound for a second opinion and see what we saw there. She also told me that more than likely our baby had quit growing at 6 weeks gestation, and if that were the case they would need to do a follow up ultrasound in 2 weeks to go over post partum plan.
We left there in a hurry. I was so mad. I hadn't been shown any sign of encouragement at this office. Only loss of hope.
We got in at Women's Hospital same day. We dropped Annestyne off with Chads mom. I was a nervous wreck and just really needed to be childless.
When we got there it was awful. We had to go in through maternity admissions. The first thing we heard and saw while we were waiting as an expectant mother screaming "my baby is gone. I lost my baby". I had to hold it together. Why we were sent to maternity admissions still baffles me.
Another transvaginal ultrasound was performed, and we were told the same thing, except provided with hope. The PA explained that what she saw was a normal 6 week ultrasound, that the heart wasn't always seen at 6 weeks gestation. So we scheduled another follow up appointment for the following Friday. More waiting.
After leaving the hospital I decided I would call the office I had seen with A the following Monday. I refused to go back to where I had just left. I called them Monday and was scheduled to be seen that day at noon. I was able to see my favorite midwife, and she reassured me that hope was still there. She decided to wait on another ultrasound and to just go to the one we had scheduled with the hospital on the coming up Friday, July 17.
July 17 came. A week in between our first ultrasound. Another transvaginal was performed. And we were stuck waiting back in maternity admissions. Chad and I waited 45 minutes before we were told we could leave and the midwife on call would call us with our results.
Excuse me. Call me? I think not.
I reminded the receptionist at admissions my midwife had informed me that Monday at my appointment that we would wait at the hospital and whoever was on call would come and get us and go over the news with us.
She explained she had just spoken with the midwife, and she said she would call.
So furious, we walked out of the hospital. I was almost in tears. My doctors office closes early on Friday, and I was NOT waiting any longer for my results. I called my best friend, and explained the situation. She insisted I called the on call doctor.
As I dialed, I got a call. It was the on call midwife, inside the hospital. She said, "I quickly skimmed your results and have those for you, but you left right?" Luckily, we were in the hospital parking lot still, and she had us come back indoors. Once inside, we had no where to go. All the rooms were full. We were pulled in to a medical supplies room to go over over results.
YES. A medical supply room. Where we had to stand the whole time.
She explained to results were too inconclusive and she needed to get with the technician to determine which way she was swaying towards. The baby was only measuring 6 weeks 1 day, and no heartbeat. So in that one week, there was no progress. She told us she would call us that evening after she spoke to the tech.
We left with no answers, but in my heart I knew the answer. I knew our baby was going to leave me. I knew it wasn't our time.
We got back to Chads parents to pick the kids up. While we were there the midwife called me. I put my phone on speaker so Chad could hear.
After speaking to the technician and another doctor, it was confirmed I was experiencing a loss, and to expect to begin bleeding within the week. There had been no progress with our baby, and there were abnormalities to the sac. No heartbeat visible.
I hung up the phone. I lost it. I had to walk outdoors. I completely shut my husband out. I called my two friends. And cried. A lot. I was so confused. I was hurting. I was sad. I didn't know what to expect.
We went back a week later, July 24 (Friday) for our final ultrasound. I celebrated my 26th birthday the day before.
I got home the night of my birthday and began bleeding. I was very hopeful that God would give me a break, and let my birthday pass before things started. The last couple of weeks had been rough. Our parrot had died the day before our second ultrasound at the hospital.
At our last ultrasound, the pole had disappeared. The sac was remaining. It was measuring 6 weeks, 3 days. It all became clear. I had prepared myself for what I would see on the screen. Although, a part of me was hoping there was a slight chance of progress and a heartbeat. I was holding on to some slight possibility. It was my sanity.
Three days passed, and the process began. It is different for every woman. I began passing our sweet baby at 11 weeks, although she had quit growing at 6 weeks. The process has been very emotional, but I've worked through it by talking with my husband and my friends. Being open about the process has been my way of beginning to heal, and still feel normal.
I am still in the middle of the loss, and I'm not sure when it will end. I now feel the emptiness that comes with losing a child. A life is a life, no matter how small. Life begins at conception, and I was growing our third child.
The Lord spoke to me very openly through a friend who has also experienced loss. I received a message on Facebook one night from a dear friend who explained she was sorry for the loss of our baby girl, and she felt it was important we name her. This dear friend is one of the most spiritual people I know. She shared a very personal letter with me that touched my heart in many ways.
Our baby was a GIRL.
SHE deserved a name.
And her name is Fischer.
Fischer Gray passed through my body on August 4, 2015. Her sac and placenta were passed. It was the most awful I had felt since the loss began. My back ached. My head hurt. My body hurt. My abdomen hurt. My stomach hurt. Hydrocodone barely touched me. I slept all day, and I barely ate.
My body is still processing the loss. My hormone levels are still high. I still FEEL pregnant due to my symptoms. The only thing I've noticed is my uterus is no longer growing.
My hormone levels are tested weekly through lab work (my blood is drawn). In able to conceive again, my levels need to drop back down. Way down.
My first week of testing, my levels were around 51,000.
Last week they were 41,271.
I go back Friday morning.
My levels are tested to make sure no infections occur.
My faith has grown so much stronger through all this. And I know that God has a plan for our family. I believe now that the timing may have been off.
Chad and I have grieved together. And I've grieved alone. I still cry. Every day. Crying is healing too.
I have saved our sweet Fischer, and I'll be burying her in a decorated pot with a flower and seeds of hope.
Every memory we have of her will be saved and put away in a memory box. Announcement to Chad, photos, public announcement boards, etc.
I know at some point I will feel normal again. I'm very grateful Chad had a week and a half of paid vacation time right when things progressed. My biggest fear was being alone and having help with the kids.
I know it will physically be over soon. Emotionally, I know time will heal.
Thank you to everyone who has called, text, messaged, or sent gifts. Your thoughtfulness has meant the world to me.
I know our Fischer is up above receiving all the love my mother has ever wanted to shower a grandchild with. I know our Fischer is playing gracefully with other babies who have gone to Heaven before their mothers and fathers were able to meet them.
Hasting and Annestyne will know about their sister. They will know they have an angel sibling above, watching over them. I've already began explaining it to Hasting, and Annestyne is still to little to know. Nights that it's my turn to pray with Hasting we pray for Fischer to watch over us and to keep us safe.
I may not have given her life for very long, but she has it. To think the first person she saw when she opened her eyes was Jesus gives me so much peace.
We will see you again one day our sweet Fischer.
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