Too Good to Be True

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I remember the moment I read in one of my pregnancy books that an estimated 25% of women don't get morning sickness while pregnant.  Most women would be thrilled to find themselves in that category, but I distinctly remember feeling uneasy upon reading that statistic.

You see, I just don't have good luck.  It could be the 2 mirrors I broke while moving into Manhattan 7.5 years ago; it may very well be something else.  But whatever the reason, luck is generally not on my side.  If 25% of women don't get morning sickness, that means 75% do, and those kinds of odds are rarely in my favor.  Nevertheless, I don't consider myself overly superstitious, so I tried not to focus on that fact too much and instead hoped for once I was on the right side of the odds.  But, there were several other reasons I feared this pregnancy seemed too good, or at minimum, too easy, to be true:

• We got pregnant on our second try.  I know some women struggle for months and some for many years to conceive.  For as long as I can remember, even back to my teenage years, I've always had a deep-seated fear that I'd be unable to get pregnant.  To learn we got pregnant so quickly was very surprising to me after so many years of worrying.
• Our baby's estimated due date was the 25th.  Not only is my birthday the 25th, but so is my mom's.  I know babies are rarely born on their due date, but the potential for this happening was pretty neat.
• And not just any 25th... our baby was due on December 25th.  Christmas Day.  I can't think of a more beautiful way to celebrate Christmas than to welcome a new baby of our own into our lives.  I've always loved Christmas {and not just because of the presents!} and it's always been a very big tradition in my family for many extended relatives to gather from near and far.  The news that our baby was expected at Christmastime made the experience all the more magical for both my husband and I.  We were absolutely delighted to learn we were pregnant, and over the moon with excitement when we calculated our due date.  I went to numerous different web sites, repeatedly filling in dates, to be sure it was true!
• We pulled off two YouTube-worthy surprise family reveals.  Our moms both live about 1.5 hours away {in different directions} and we successfully orchestrated the biggest Mother's Day surprise by inviting them both over for brunch, and then presenting them with matching "grandma to-be" t-shirts while recording their priceless reactions.  And, they didn't suspect a thing.  It was such a fun and memorable surprise, and the timing was perfect because we'd just had our first ultrasound 4 days earlier, so even had photos on hand to insert into their cards.  We even got a baby bottle of bourbon for my brother, so the new uncle-to-be wouldn't feel left out.  Then, a few weeks later, we surprised my aunt, uncle, cousin and 91 year old grandmother who live 7 hours away during what they thought was an experimental laptop video-conferencing for my job.  I prepared and sent via FedEx to my aunt four sealed envelopes, each containing a piece of paper with one of the letters B, A, B, Y.  They opened the envelopes simultaneously and put the clue together while we silently watched from our laptop.  We captured their wonderful reactions on video through the wonders of modern technology, and were so excited to be able to tell them our wonderful news "face to face", even though we couldn't do so in person.  This may not sound like a big deal, but it meant everything to me.  As I mentioned, my grandma is 91 years old.  She is the brightest light in my life and I felt so honored to tell her that she was going to become a great-grandma.  Her reaction was absolutely priceless.

I know these things all probably seem pretty petty, especially as compared to the incredibly serious and solemn occurrence of a miscarriage.  But at the time, these small details magnified the excitement of experiencing our first pregnancy beyond anything we could have imagined.  Everything just came together o perfectly.  Unfortunately, it turned out to be too perfect.  It was too good to be true.

Robertsonian Translocation

Yesterday afternoon my OB called to let me know that the labs from my miscarriage tissue are back and the results show a chromosomal abnormality called Robertsonian Translocation.  She also advised  my husband and I to meet with a genetic counselor, and that we may need to undergo genetic testing to see if we are "normal".

Immediately, I panicked.  Hearing the words "genetic counselor" scared the life out of me, and I called my husband in tears.  We both quickly did some Google searches, which caused only more fear and confusion for me.  I frantically checked baby blogs and message boards, searching for information and any bits of hope I could find.  I know it doesn't help to think of worst case scenarios but that's all that's been running through my head.  I'm petrified that I'll never have a successful pregnancy and desperate for info that points to the contrary.  The problem is, I don't even know what I'm looking for just yet.  There are apparently balanced and unbalanced translocations (I'm not sure which one was discovered in this case), and any prognosis about future pregnancies depends on whether my husband or I are carriers.  I am assuming this is why the counseling was recommended.

I guess it is possible that it was a random error, and I guess that's what I'm hoping for; however, the fact that my OB referred me for genetic counseling makes me nervous because when I initially brought the tissue sample in to be tested, the doctor said most times the chromosomal abnormalities are not indicative of any issue and testing is not typically needed until 2-3 miscarriages or over age 35. But this was my first miscarriage and I'm only 32?!  My OB did not get into details on the phone yesterday besides mentioning the presence of Robertsonian Translocation abnormality when she called, so I don't know if she has any additional information she didn't share with me that has caused enough concern for her to refer me to a genetic counselor for testing, or whether such a referral is routine for such abnormalities.

Although I am scared to death to find out whether the translocation was a random error during cell division or whether it was inherited (i.e., we are carriers) and therefore will affect any future pregnancies, I know I should want this information.  Knowledge is power, right?  The problem is... more information is not going to change the fact that I am desperate to get pregnant again and birth a healthy baby.  What if this wasn't a fluke and we are carriers?  What if we discover that our chance of having a healthy baby is low?  Is that something I will be able to handle emotionally?  Honestly, I'm not sure I can.

I feel like this is a never-ending nightmare that is only getting worse instead of better with time.

I know there is nothing I can do right now but wait to meet with the counselor, and see whether genetic testing is necessary, but the waiting is killing me (and it's only been a day).  For now, I am going to stop searching the internet and baby chat boards for info, and try to keep an open mind until we meet with the counselor next Thursday. I guess the best case scenario would be for this translocation to have been a fluke mutation during cell division and not genetically inherited from my husband or me, so I will hope and pray for that outcome.

The Birth of a Blog

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I have been obsessed with the notion of starting a blog, but I can’t think of or decide on an appropriate name. I’m scared to choose a title that sounds too positive for fear of jinxing ourselves, and terrified of choosing something negative for the same reason. I’m pretty sure I won’t have any readers anyway, but for some reason it feels important for me to get my thoughts out of my head out onto the web. Maybe if someone comes across a post and it helps him or her cope in some small way, or I receive a comment from someone out there in the same boat as me, I won’t feel so isolated and hopeless. I want to have hope, honestly I do, but I’m having a really hard time mustering it.

{As you can see, I've been keeping a journal long before I created this blog.  Now that my hubby and I have finally decided on a blog name, I'm migrating all my journal entries to their new home, and dated them accordingly.  From here on out, this blog is our new journal.  Thanks so much for taking this journey with us.}

MVA

By Tuesday afternoon my uterus lining had thinned a little, but not enough, so they scheduled me for a MVA on Wednesday morning. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday morning were full of agonizing pain, and I still needed the procedure on Wednesday after all that hell.

The MVA procedure was traumatizing to say the least and something I honestly wish I could forget entirely, though the cramping pain did decrease significantly about an hour or so after the procedure was completed. The procedure was physically painful and I didn’t know until a couple minutes before the procedure (when we stepped into the sono room to check on progress one last time) that my husband couldn’t stay in the room with me. I really wish the doctor would have mentioned this sooner, because I was not mentally prepared to go it alone and finding out minutes before really sent me into an emotional downturn. I had nothing to squeeze except a travel pack of tissues which I wring the life out of. Luckily, I’d brought an eye mask with me but that didn’t help much to ease the pain or fear I felt, alone in a room with 4 other medical personnel.

My husband was able to take the entire day off to accompany me to and home from the MVA, which helped me get through it all.

Officially a Miscarriage

Monday morning when I woke to urinate there was a lot of red blood but still no pain. I was able to shower and get dressed before calling my OB as soon as they opened to schedule an 11am appointment. I was still bleeding, but mostly only during urination. But, as soon as my husband left for work -- a little over an hour before my appointment I started having mild-moderate cramping. To me, it felt like constipation. I sat on the toilet eating a whole wheat English muffin, using all the mind power I could muster to try to remain calm and try to have a bowel movement, but nothing was coming out. The pain didn’t ease up, so I took a cab from home to the doctor’s office. The 30 minute ride was unbearable and as we got closer I knew something didn’t feel right. By the time I arrived at the dr's office I could feel that I was bleeding heavily. I can picture vividly my husband's face as I exited the elevator and told him that I could feel the bleeding. I burst into tears and was ushered in to provide a urine sample. As expected, it was full of blood. The nurse took my BP and weight (I still don’t understand why that was important) and left me in an exam room waiting for the doctor. The examination was incredibly painful -- I remember crying out that it hurt while the doctor tried to check to see if my cervix was still closed. I’m not sure she ever felt it, and she didn’t say much except to instruct us to go into the sonogram room. At this point, I still don’t think I knew what was about to happen.

I can’t remember what happened next -- the day turned into a blur. I’m not sure if the sono tech checked me before or after speaking, but I do remember her saying it was obvious my body was trying to get rid of the baby... I was having a miscarriage. This statement shocked me and broke my heart at the same time. I remember crying out and my husband holding my hand. He held my hand a lot over the next few days, and thinking back I’m honestly not sure how we was so strong when I was such a mess.

The OB sent me home with 4 methotrexate pills to take every 6 hours and orders to come back the following day for an ultrasound to check on progress.

The Beginning of the End

Of course I didn’t know it, but today was the beginning of the end. After a lazy morning having breakfast with my hubby, I decided I’d show Aunt B. a photo of our first ultrasound while doing a video chat via Facetime. The plan was to call her up and ask her to try Facetime out on my new mac, and then I’d randomly hold the ultrasound photo over the camera and record her reaction. Great idea, right?! Only things didn’t turn out that way. After getting out of the shower, I felt the urge to pee. I didn’t have any pains, but there was a certain discomfort in my pelvic area that made me pee before even getting my robe on.

Looking down, I saw bright red blood come out in my urine stream and immediately my heart sank. I threw my robe on, screamed for my husband, hopped into bed and propped my feet up on pillows. The time was 2:30pm. I called my OBGYN’s emergency service line and anxiously awaited areturn call. The on-call doctor happened to be the one I saw at my recent visits, and she returned the call within a few minutes. She asked whether I had fallen or had any cramps or pain (which I didn’t) and advised that unless I was soaking a pad an hour (which I wasn't -- the blood was really only coming out when I urinated) to wait until Monday morning to come in. For several hours after that call I laid in bed, scared to death. I knew bright red blood could be bad, but I didn’t have any pains and the blood only seemed to be coming out when I urinated. After doing some online research, I slept with my legs up on a pillow and hardly bled on my pad at all at night.