CHAPTER 1
Let's Have a Baby
Tosh and I were married on July 17, 2010. It was a beautiful,albeit scorching hot, day in the Okanagan Valley. We had a smallwedding, with just our closest family and friends. The ceremonywas short and sweet, and the reception was just what we hadimagined—a great party with the people we loved.
Being 26 when we married, we were one of the last couples inour group to take the plunge. Before our big day, we extensivelydiscussed children, and we decided that there was absolutely noway we would have children or even attempt to get pregnant inour first year of marriage. All our other married friends had gottenpregnant before their first anniversary, and we didn't want tofollow the trend. That's not to say it is a bad thing to have kidsright away; it just wasn't for us. Things are different now. Couplesdate a lot longer before they are married (Tosh and I were togetherfor four and a half years before we said I do). They live togetherand, in the case of most of the couples we know, already ownhouses. So, it is the natural progression of events to marry andstart having kids right after your walk down the aisle. Having justbought a house and a puppy the year before we were married,we felt that that was enough for the time being. We were goingto travel, save money, and enjoy ourselves a bit before being tieddown to children.
All of our plans changed a short three months later, when mywonderful friend Terri took her own walk down the aisle. Toshand I learned that day that when you are at a wedding, thingshappen to you. The singles find themselves desiring that feelingof falling in love, the unmarried couples have a sudden urge tobe as blissfully joined for life as the bride and groom are, andapparently, the married-and-childless suddenly want to be marriedwith children. So that was how we immediately went from being awe'll-wait-a-year-or-two couple to being a let's-have-a-baby-right-nowcouple.
Shortly after Christmas 2010, I went to the doctor to have aphysical, just to make sure that I was in good health and okay totry to conceive. The doctor did a quick internal exam and, lo andbehold, saw something that he thought indicated the possiblebeginnings of a pregnancy.
I—often to my own detriment—have a very overactiveimagination. I also have an uncanny ability to convince myselfof nearly anything. If I were ever part of a pharmaceutical test, Iwould definitely be the patient who the placebo worked for. Myhusband actually jokes that I have the most powerful mind in theworld when it comes to convincing myself of things.
I told my family that my doctor thought I was pregnant. Istopped drinking coffee and alcohol immediately; I also stoppedeating processed meat, unpasteurized milk products, and anythingelse that I had heard might harm a growing baby.
A few days after my appointment (and the day before myperiod was due), off I went to get a dreaded blood test. Yes, evenat my age I'm terrified of needles! For a girl who tends to faint atthe thought of giving blood, I thought I did pretty well. I lay down,which I have to do for all blood tests, counted backward from 10,stayed lying down for a few minutes, and then dragged myself upand out of the lab—feeling rather proud of myself for being sucha tough cookie. Then I fainted in the elevator on the way down tothe first floor. Well, of course, my overactive mind began to wonderwhat would happen to the possible little fetus developing insideme as a result of this fainting spell. I hounded my doctor's poorreceptionist until my blood results came in.
That was my first mistake. While I did have slight levels of hCGin my blood, the levels were too low to be considered a viablepregnancy. What I had would later be referred to as a "chemical"pregnancy.
So, if I am going to provide any tips at all, here is tip #1: Evenwhen actively trying to get pregnant, don't jump the gun ontesting. Wait until you have missed your period by a couple ofdays.
Chemical pregnancies are rather common, and you only setyourself up for heartbreak if you see a positive result and then haveyour period arrive the following day. On the other hand, if you testearly—even using one of those amazing baby-mind-reading teststhat can detect hCG five days early—and it is negative, you maybe setting yourself up for heartbreak of an entirely different kind.Though you may see a negative result, it might simply be becauseyour levels are not high enough yet to show on the test.
My heart was broken. I had been so excited at the thought ofbeing pregnant, and even better, I had worked out my possible duedate, and it was two days before my birthday. I had been born twodays before my mom's birthday, so I had already worked it all outin my head that I would have a girl and it would be a full-circle sortof deal. I had had this planned from the time I was fairly young.But, unfortunately, my period had come, a mere two days late. If Ihad not had the check-up, I would never have even known it wasthe start of a pregnancy.
CHAPTER 2
Joy for Another
Two weeks after the slightly late arrival of my period, I had a dayoff from work, and I was getting ready to go out with my mom.Just as I was about to leave, my phone rang. It was Chelsey calling,a strange occurrence in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday,but I didn't think much of it. I barely had a chance to say hellobefore my sister's voice came down the line.
"We have some news," Chelsey said.
"You're pregnant!" I said. Sure enough, she was. Eight weeksin, she and her husband had just come from their first ultrasound,where they had been able to catch a glimpse of their soon-to-befirst child, their daughter Libby.
It is hard for me to properly express what I felt when I heardthis news. I was absolutely, blissfully happy for my sister. AllChelsey had ever wanted in life was to be a wife and mother.Then, in a matter of a couple of years, and at 31 years old, shehad it all. She and Ark had married the previous January, and now,after eight months of trying, she was pregnant. I was ecstatic forher. That might not have come through during our conversation,though, because I almost instantly started to bawl my eyes out. Iwas nearly inconsolable. On one hand, I truly was beyond happyfor Chelsey, and on the other, I couldn't stop thinking: Why her andnot me? Maybe not so much Why her? as Why not both of us?
In the interest of full disclosure, I will tell you that I wasdevastated. You see, Tosh and I had been together over threeyears before he proposed, over four before we were married, andwe were fast approaching our fifth anniversary as a couple. I hadwaited patiently (or not so patiently, if you ask Tosh) for a marriageproposal that everyone had expected to come long before it had.Chelsey and Ark, on the other hand, had known each other forsuch a short time in comparison. They had begun dating two yearsbefore, in November, been engaged the October before their firstanniversary, and married that January.
I cried when I found out about Chelsey's pregnancy becauseI was very sad for myself and Tosh. I cried because I wanted toexperience pregnancy with my sister. I cried also because I felt verystrong guilt over all of the above. I felt that I should be able to putmyself and what had happened to me aside and just be happy forChelsey.
Guilt is a difficult emotion to work through. The more I toldmyself that I should just be happy for Chelsey, the more I thoughtabout how sad I was for myself. As a result, my guilt becamedeeper. Throughout Chelsey's pregnancy, and even after Libbywas born, I found myself often mentally and emotionally removingmyself from situations. During family dinners, when talk inevitablywent to pregnancy, babies, and motherhood, I would shut downand tune it out. I couldn't ask everyone to stop talking about it.That would be selfish and just result in more guilt. I honed a trueskill in tuning out when I couldn't handle the discussion. This is askill that I still turn to today. Although I am much better and muchmore able to hear stories of pregnancy and motherhood, I still findmyself escaping at times.
I will never get back that lost time when Chelsey was pregnant.I missed out on things, most often intentionally. It was, andstill is, a choice I've had to make, in order to be able to be fullyinvolved when I can handle it. That's the trick—knowing your ownlimitations. I had to find a way to be there for Chelsey as often as Icould. If I wasn't there for her at all, how could I expect anyone tobe there for me during my own pregnancy?
CHAPTER 3
Heartache
"Happy anniversary, honey! I peed on a stick and got you two pinklines for a present!" That is essentially how Tosh's and my fifthanniversary celebration started on February 2, 2011. I had startedthinking that pregnancy was a possibility a few days before. I canhonestly say that there were no indications, aside from the instinctthat I had. About one week before, while visiting Chelsey, I hadmentioned in passing that my mind didn't seem to be functioningnormally.
"I was driving to work the other day," I can rememberexplaining to her. "I took the wrong turn to a house I've beendriving to for two years."
"Maybe you're pregnant," Chelsey had piped up.
I didn't think it was possible. I'd had spotting that week, anormal occurrence for me in the week leading up to my period.Then, a couple of days before my period was due, the spotting hadstopped, something which was not normal for my cycle. I still didn'tthink too much of it. I was still recovering from the disappointmentof the previous month and was trying desperately not to get myhopes up.
Our anniversary was also the day that my period was due butdidn't arrive. I enjoyed the romanticism of finding out we werepregnant on our anniversary, and more on a whim than a realinstinct, I decided to do a pregnancy test.
What a whim that turned out to be! I went from ecstatic,terrified, and shocked, to instantly maternal—in a matter ofseconds. There really is no adequate way of describing the feeling.You can only understand if you have been there yourself. It is theonly time in my life that I've been equally scared and excited.
The planning started at dinner that night—what we wouldname it, how we would decorate the nursery, when its due datewould be. After all, nobody ever thinks they'll be one of theunlucky ones who can't get pregnant, and once you do getpregnant, you certainly don't think you'll lose it. Sure, women haveworries throughout pregnancy; I watched both of my sisters worrythat it wouldn't go right. But deep down, you don't question thatin nine months you'll be snuggling and making goo-goo noises atyour newborn.
That night after dinner, we went straight home and told mymom our big news. By the end of the next day, everyone knew.Being a nanny at the time, I told my employers, so that they had asmuch time as possible to prepare. Our due date was October 13,2011; I knew my employers would need time to sort out the detailsof their own child care.
I bought a pregnancy book and immediately started to watchwhat I ate. I began counting the glasses of water I drank in a day.I cut out coffee the morning after we found out. I was bound anddetermined to be the picture of health during my pregnancy.
The best part was that I was pregnant at the same time asChelsey! We were about six weeks apart. I so anticipated picturesof our bumps facing each other and pictures of our babies lyingside by side, while looking in awe at the difference in their size andknowing that, in time, it would no longer be noticeable.
On February 10, as I was lying in bed, my mom came into myroom. Seeing immediately that she was upset about something, Isat straight up.
"Something's wrong with Chelsey," my mom managed to say.
At 11 weeks, Chelsey was having a bit of spotting. I gave mymom a healthy dose of "Everything is going to be fine" and "Thisis perfectly normal during pregnancy," and she seemed to feel a bitbetter.
"I know everything is going to be fine," my mom said tome that day. "You're both going to have beautiful babies, andeverything is going to be fine."
Instantly, my guilt reared its ugly head again. On the inside Iwas panicking, thinking that Chelsey was going to miscarry. If shedid, I would have to live with the guilt of being resentful of herpregnancy and ending up with a child of my own while watchingher suffer a devastating loss. I worried about how difficult it wouldbe for her to see me go through the stages of pregnancy while shewas suffering the stages of grief.
By February 15, Chelsey was feeling much better, and I hadmy first sign of spotting. So began my first journey throughmiscarriage. I did my absolute best to ignore the spotting andconvince myself it was a normal part of early pregnancy.
On the first day that I noticed it, I was visiting Courtney, and Imentioned it to her. "It's perfectly normal," she said. "I had spottingthroughout the first 12 weeks with Mia, and everything was fine."
The brain is a funny thing. It's as though it has layers, like anonion. On one layer, I was thinking, Everything is perfectly fine;spotting is completely normal, while at the same time there was adifferent layer that was thinking, I'm going to lose my baby.
I talked to my sisters, my mom, and Tosh, looking for someoneto reassure me. The funny thing is, even when people are doingeverything they can to be reassuring, there's still that one layer ofthe onion telling you that reassurances don't mean squat.
On the second day of spotting, I called my doctor's office,and they also reassured me that it was fine. I spoke with women Iknew who had experienced similar spotting and gone on to haveperfectly healthy babies. I referred to my books on pregnancy and Iscoured the Internet for information. Nothing made me feel better.
I was in pregnancy limbo. I couldn't become one of the womenwho lost their babies; it was a rare thing. It never happened. Ididn't know anyone it had happened to. On the other hand—oranother figurative layer of onion—I couldn't possibly be oneof those women who got to have a normal, healthy pregnancy. Inever had normal, healthy anything. I constantly suffered fromdigestion issues and chronic back pain. I suffered a bulging disc inmy thoracic spine for absolutely no apparent reason. I'd never besomeone to go through pregnancy normally.
It only requires a few pages, or even paragraphs, to describea couple of days. In reality, two days felt like two lifetimes. Theminutes felt as though they were ticking backward. I tried myabsolute best to keep my sanity over the course of those two days.There are times in life, though, that sanity really just isn't an option.Everybody kept telling me to relax, that it was important I staycalm for the health of the baby. Oh, to be told to stay calm whenyour brain, and all of its many layers, is whirling out of control.
Once I hit the third day of light spotting, I couldn't take itanymore, and I called my doctor to book an appointment.
My doctor examined me and said everything looked fine.Because I hadn't even had my first official prenatal appointmentyet, he decided to order some blood work and an ultrasound, aswell. After the blood work was complete, Tosh and I went to havethe ultrasound done. While I was apprehensive, I still believed deepdown that it was all going to be okay. I was very much expectingto see, or at the very least hear, my baby that day.
I could tell something wasn't quite right when the ultrasoundtechnician started asking questions about how far along I was andwhether I'd had an ultrasound that showed the baby yet. When sheasked my permission to do a vaginal ultrasound, I knew for suresomething was up. I began to cry immediately and refused thevaginal ultrasound until I could speak to the doctor. It is impossibleto describe the thoughts that went through my mind. I knew thatsomething was wrong and that the tech didn't have the permissionto give me any information.
Tosh was brought into the room to console me while we waitedfor the radiologist to tell us just what was going on.
"There is no indication of a fetus," the radiologist told us ashe entered the room. "Either you were never pregnant, or you'vealready miscarried and it hasn't come out yet."
He followed this absolutely devastating (and coldly delivered)announcement by saying, "You have a retroverted uterus, so thebaby may be hiding where we can't see it. Come back in a week,and we'll look again."
My heart split in two. Everyone has experienced at somepoint the crushing feeling of losing a loved one. It consumes youinstantly; it doesn't hurt slowly. It punches you in the gut in aninstant, leaving you numb and shocked all at the same time.
