a second chance

Let’s rewind back to July 17th. A typical day, like any other…Matt and I were getting ready for a friend’s wedding and praying that the rain would hold off long enough for the outdoors ceremony and reception. I honestly cannot tell you what prompted me to take a pregnancy test before I hopped in the shower, but I did.

This was not the first HPT I had taken since my miscarriage. As I stood in the bathroom, impatiently watching the hourglass blink on my digital home pregnancy test, I thought back to the other times when I had been disappointed by the words the display window had revealed to me. Not Pregnant.

I prepared myself for, yet another, disappointing result. I let out a sigh and rolled my eyes at my own naivety. My period wasn’t even officially late yet, so I knew this was just a waste of time and a perfectly good HPT. Yet, I waited. Something inside of me needed to see those familiar two words. Except, it didn’t show two words this time. There was only one.

And I don’t know if my first reaction was joy or excitement. In all honesty, I think there was a little bit of fear. What if it happened again? Could I handle losing this one too? As disappointing as it is to see the opposite result, at least it didn’t lead to false hope. And yet there I was, holding the most precious piece of plastic bearing the one word I wanted so desperately.

Starting July 17th, I struggled. With Matt and alone, to not be too excited, but excited enough. To not forget about the developing baby, but not to bank on its arrival. To not question God and whether it would happen again, but to be thankful for another pregnancy regardless. We didn’t talk about the pregnancy much to each other, in the first few weeks, and we didn’t share it, with anyone.

Because I now have a “history of miscarriages” the nurse wanted to test my hCG levels right away. So, on July 18th, I had my blood drawn. HCG is the pregnancy hormone that is tested in urine and home pregnancy tests, but a blood draw is different, as there are two or more blood draws. The first establishes the baseline, as anything over 5 mIU/L is considered positive for pregnancy, but the true test is whether the subsequent draw doubles within 48 hours. On July 18th my draw was 93.5 mIU/L and on July 20th I went back; I was almost in tears sitting in the waiting room. I was terrified. All I could think about was preparing myself for the phone call I was probably going to get later that afternoon that would start my nightmare in motion once again. However, we actually received good news instead – the test came back at 232 mIU/L. We were ecstatic!

At 7.5 weeks we had our first doctor appointment inclusive of an ultrasound. I had been thinking about this day for almost a month and every emotion had entered my mind during that time. Would I be excited or terrified? Worried or calm? Instead, I was none of these things. Driving to the appointment I felt…nothing. Numb. Resigned. I went into the appointment with zero expectations. As terrible as it sounds, and despite my best efforts, I realized that I had not allowed myself to get excited about this pregnancy. Even if I felt like I was exhibiting pregnancy symptoms, I’d chalk it up to something else. The truth of the matter is I didn’t want to allow myself to believe, only to find out there was nothing there. I didn’t want to feel foolish.

The ultrasound machine was ancient compared to the ones we had seen at the hospital the last time and it took my doctor awhile to find anything in my uterus. She explained that my uterus was tilted back, which was fairly common, and made it hard to see. Yet, I couldn’t help but sigh heavily as we stared at the monitor and only saw an empty space where I knew a baby was supposed to be. Here we go again. But then, it appeared. A little mass. And then a quick, little flicker.  I recognized it instantly and I felt myself smile with the sweet knowledge that our baby had a heartbeat. Both Matt and my doctor asked me if I had seen it and I heard myself lie, telling them that I hadn’t. In retrospect, I think it was because I didn’t want the exam to be over so quickly. I needed to look at it longer. To sear it into my memory. The best part was when the doctor said everything looked completely healthy and then gave us our due date – March 24, 2012!

I stared at our ultrasound photo for almost the entire car ride home and most of the evening. Over the next few hours, I could sense the walls starting to come down and for the first time in several weeks, I felt a tinge of excitement. A glimpse of hope.

<jenna>

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