The last four weeks have been a roller coaster ride for The Man and I. Turns out that the pink line I saw on that pregnancy test was actually a positive line. As confirmed by the other three tests that I took the following Thursday.
That should have been the start of the good news and the happy blogging and the buying up of fantastic baby clothes and hunting around websites to get nursery decoration ideas. Did that happen?
In a nutshell. No.
The happiness lasted for all of about a week. The thing is, when you take a pregnancy test and you see that super faint pink line that you can hardly even see, that usually means that you’re only barely there pregnant. But when your periods haven’t regulated themselves after coming off the pill and you go to the doctor to get a confirmation blood test, when the results come back they are naturally going to date you from your last period. Well for me that would have put me at 4 weeks pregnant. So that, of course, set the doctors mind to worrying, because my HCG levels did not come back to represent the levels of a 4 week pregnant lady. No indeed. So they insisted I come back and have more blood tests just to make sure my levels were all rising normally.
Yay for us. They were.
So for about a whole week, I was floating around, walking on clouds, feeling like the only woman in the world who had ever managed to conceive a child. I dreamed about babies and the future and what our child would look like.
Then came the bleeding. Then came more doctors visits. I went in to have my HCG levels checked and they hadn’t risen as much as they thought they should – and they were still calculating me at being about 7 weeks pregnant, so they sent me in for an ultrasound. Of course, the technician couldn’t see anything, so the doctor confirmed the worst for us – we hadn’t had a viable pregnancy and we’d lost it. Although, they couldn’t (or wouldn’t) say it in those words. Just said over and over again that it didn’t look good for us at all, and come back in 72 hours so we could have more blood tests done and have the HCG levels checked to make sure that they were going down as they should be.
Of course, that was because they thought I was 7 weeks along. So when I went back for my 72 hour check, they called us into the doctors surgery and we were faced with two doctors. I feared the worst – I was pretty sure that we were finally going to get the confirmation we’d been waiting for. That I could put this all behind us and look to the future. Did that happen?
No, of course not.
The doctor looked at me, told me I was a conundrum and told me that we were still very much pregnant, but obviously, we weren’t 7 weeks along as they first though, but probably closer to four weeks. We were scheduled in for more blood tests in a week and another ultrasound, because they thought by then we should be able to see something floating around in that great fluid filled uterus of mine. The bleeding/spotting stopped and for four whole days I was in that happy cloud again – just a bit more apprehensive than I had been before. Until I started bleeding again. And until we had our ultrasound yesterday.
The technician couldn’t see anything. Nothing at all. He made a call to my doctor, she confirmed that my HCG levels hadn’t doubled like they should have. The technician went on to tell us that it wasn’t a viable pregnancy. By now, he should have been able to see even a tiny sac, but there was nothing for him to see. I went home, I cried, we grieved together and we accepted the fact that our little baby was gone.
So today we head off to the doctor to get the official report. She’s pissed at the technician for telling us what he did. She goes on to say that just because my levels hadn’t doubled, didn’t mean the pregnancy was over. Just that perhaps it was still too early to see anything, that now we have to wait a further week for yet more blood tests just to confirm that my HCG levels are dropping (or increasing, as she is still hopeful for).
But deep in my heart, I know we have lost our baby. My spotting isn’t just spotting. It’s bleeding now. There have been cramps. I know it’s over, but still I have this wee little teeny tiny hope in my heart that maybe my body is just fucked up and this is how it responds to pregnancy and my little baby is still deep in that happy little place of his/hers snuggling away and looking forward to meeting us in the future.
But I know it’s a futile hope.