Starting a Family

After a little while we decided to try starting a family. We struggled for quite some time and finally saw a fertility specialist. I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS), and have 2 cysts in my uterus, among other issues, which makes it difficult to get pregnant and maintain a pregnancy. After a year of tests and treatments with no luck, we called it quits. Insurance didn’t cover any of this and quite frankly it was getting way too expensive. We decided to focus on our health and to get in shape together. We joined a gym and hired a personal trainer and had great progress.

Then August 2012 happened. I wasn’t feeling very well (I’ll spare the details) and thought for sure I was pregnant. I took test after test and kept getting negative results. A few weeks went by and I still felt awful and one day I started spotting. I was still late, so on August 16, 2012 I took a pregnancy test. Then it happened. Around three in the morning, I saw the word “Pregnant” on the test. I quickly took two other tests, one with a Yes+ and another with the lines. I was shaking and crying and hurried up and texted Jason since he was at work working third shift.

We had a nursery all set up. Baby clothes, crib, dresser, changing table, toys, blankets, etc. We were set. I wanted to capture this moment so I took pictures of the positive pregnancy test with a couple clothing items that mentioned “baby” on them. I was terrified of what was to come next, of becoming a mom and having our lives change forever.

Later that day I called the fertility doctor and told her about the positive test. She had me come in to run blood work to confirm this pregnancy. I sat at work impatiently waiting for the nurse to call me back with the exciting news. You can only imagine how long that work day took. Just before I was leaving work around 4:55 p.m., I received the call. “Yes Christi you are pregnant, but I don’t know how to tell you this…your HCG levels just aren’t where they should be, in fact they are pretty low. We have two options. We can put you on progesterone to try to help with your numbers or we can wait this out. I’ll be honest with you, this usually doesn’t have a good outcome.”

Every possible emotion hit me. My excitement went down the drain. I was destroyed. I had to walk outside of my work and get into the car next to my husband and tell him the awful news. We decided to focus on the positive and
remain excited for this baby. I bought grandparent photo albums where I planned to put a picture of the positive test inside and share it with my parents and Jason’s mom to announce our pregnancy. Everyone was through the roof happy for us because they knew how much we wanted this and how long we struggled for this moment. I kept the fact that my spotting hadn’t stopped since the day I received the positive test. I just told them I was on medicine to help increase my numbers.

Then Friday, September 7th came. My first ultrasound to see how baby was growing. We anxiously walked down the hall from the parking structure and got into the elevator. We nervously sat in the waiting room until they called my
name. Got into the room, changed into the gown, and plopped up on the table waiting for that moment to see our little one. The tech came into the room and moved the scanner around and kept watching the screen not saying anything to
us. She got up and left the room and came back in. Looked at us and said, “Well, you actually released two eggs.” Twins. She continued, “There isn’t any activity.” Long pause. “You will end up miscarrying the babies in the next few days or so.”

In that moment I was devastated. I was too ashamed to look at my husband. I failed. All the what if’s popped in my head. What if I trusted my gut and saw the doctor sooner instead of trusting the negative tests. What if. What if.
What if. Everything was my fault. We finally were given this blessing and my body failed.

The next day, September 8th, I was experiencing horrible pain. I couldn’t sit or stand without pain. It hurt to breathe. Nothing I did would relieve the pain. I tried to work through it by tidying the house. We even went out to eat with my mom and uncle. I had to leave the lunch early because the pain was so intense. Jason took me to the Emergency Room and they admitted me. I was told the miscarriage was starting to begin. I was not allowed to eat or drink for over 24 hours just in case they needed to run more tests or whatever.

September 9th came. I woke up still hurting. Went to the bathroom and noticed the spotting got worse. I notified the nurse and she confirmed it was now starting. After a long wait, I was released from the hospital with instructions and information.

September 10th arrived….my birthday. Still none of our friends and most of our extended family had a clue of what took place over the weekend. Our babies were officially gone. Not many even knew they existed. Everyone was writing me happy birthday on social media, and there I was mourning the loss of our twins silently at home. I hated myself. I hated the fact I was alive. All that kept going through my mind was I failed. I failed as a wife. I failed as a
woman. I failed as a mom.

I fell into depression. Missed a week of work. I held in my emotions. I was so ashamed to see everyone and have to share our horrible news.