The Beginning

The Beginning

I took a test on Tuesday, June 29 even though my period wasn’t due ‘til Sunday. I thought there was a line, but it was gray and it’s supposed to be pink, so I bought another one and waited til the next morning. On Wednesday there was a definite line. But just because I’m neurotic, I bought a digital test and took it Thursday. It clearly said “pregnant.”

On Thursday afternoon I started spotting. (Here comes some TMI.) It was just light brown, but historically, spotting has never been a good sign for me. Both of my miscarriages started with spotting, but I never spotted at all with the girls. So I was pretty sure it was over.

It’s amazing how you can get attached to something – or at least the idea of something – in two days. I had already looked up my due date and figured out the age difference between Lena and the baby and honestly, started thinking of baby names. I was devastated with that spotting started. It was semi-heavy, but never changed color. When I was still spotting on Friday, I wallowed. I spent the day in bed, mourning what I was certain was another loss. I wanted to wait and see if the spotting got darker or heavier, so I didn’t call the doctor until Monday morning, even though I spotted on and off all weekend.

On Monday, July 6, I went in and had my blood drawn to check my HCG levels. The phlebotomist did a great job and didn’t have to dig around or anything, but I immediately had a huge, dark bruise. They called me later that day with my HCG number: 869. I consulted Dr. Google and decided that was a pretty good number for only being 4 weeks pregnant.

On Wednesday, I had my blood drawn again. This time my numbers came back in the 1500 range. They want to see your numbers double to confirm a viable pregnancy. My numbers didn’t technically double, but they rose and were very close to doubling, so I was feeling cautiously optimistic.

On Thursday, July 16, I had an ultrasound just to double check everything and give me some peace of mind. I was 5 weeks, 4 days so I didn’t even know if we’d be able to see anything on the ultrasound. I was horribly nervous and had to wait forever in the waiting room. Finally, they called my name and got me started. Much to my chagrin, she checked my ovaries first to rule out ectopic, then moved on to the uterus. I could immediately see a sac, but wasn’t sure there was anything in it. Then I started to catch little glimpses of a tiny blob. Finally, she settled on the blob and I could clearly see there was something there. I asked if it was too early to see a heartbeat and she said, “Oh no, I just haven’t gotten there yet.” A minute later, she showed me the flickering heartbeat. In.cred.i.ble.

This was right around the time all the planned parenthood drama started going down, and I just laid there on that table marveling that anyone could deny life begins at conception. Admittedly, the baby didn’t look like much, but it had a heartbeat! At 5 weeks!! The tech said the heart rate was 102 bpm, which is normal for that age gestation.

My doctor wasn’t in that day, so I met with a different one. He was kind of cooky. We talked about how I have two kids at home, yet he proceeded to tell me that pregnancy is 40 weeks long, split into 3 trimesters, and the 1^st trimester is usually the worst. I wanted to say, “Uh yeah. Been there done that. And the 3^rd tri is definitely worse than the 1^st!” But he also told me that once you see a healthy baby with a heartbeat on an ultrasound, your risk of miscarriage plummets to 3%. That was reassuring, but doesn’t really stop me from worrying. Haha.

At about 6 weeks exactly, the “morning sickness: kicked in. I’m not sure I really have the right to call it that, because I’m not puking or even dry heaving. I’m just miserably nauseous. But I never had anything like this with my girls, so it’s new to me. It comes and goes. I’m usually fine in the morning and it gets worse as the day goes on. But sometimes, I wake up feeling like I’m going to puke and go to bed feeling the same way.