Oh Baby

I've gone back and forth on whether or not to post about what happened with our baby. Miscarriage is a horribly painful experience that many people know only too well from their own experience. For those who have been fortunate enough to not go through something like this, it is a bit of an unknown. This is a very long post and for that I apologize.


Fair Warning: You may find this topic to be TMI. If that is the case, I suggest you stop reading now. This is our space to share about our experiences while living abroad and well, this was a major one. I'm going to be frank about what happened and is still happening to us and it may get detailed in a way you are uncomfortable with.


I decided to go ahead and share what happened because I don't think it should be treated like a secret. Right after it happened to us, I felt so alone and isolated in my pain. You always hear that these things are common, but nothing can prepare you for the moment something so precious to you is stolen away. Sometimes talking about painful experiences can help us heal from them. I have found my greatest solace in talking to friends with similar experiences. Many people experience this and never tell anyone because it happened early in their first trimester before they shared their happy news. I may have been one of those people too except that most everyone knew I was pregnant when this happened to us. Maybe it can help one of you to know that someone else feels the same way you did.

Bill and I celebrated our first anniversary this past October. We had decided that we were ready to be parents and it was the right time for us to start trying to begin our family. We were VERY lucky that it happened so quickly and I had a positive pregnancy test on October 29th. I knew it was positive before I took it. I could just feel it. I don't know how to tell you how I knew other than I just had this innate sense that something was happening in there. We went to the doctor a few days later to have it confirmed. I was traveling to the US that same week for a 2 week visit so I wanted to make sure I knew everything I needed to know before I left. I was given info packets, DVDs and instructions for what I could and could not do,and could and could not eat. It was overwhelming and exciting all at once. I mean we had just decided 3 weeks prior to try and here I was PREGNANT!

While at home in the US, I told my parents and a few close friends because I needed them to help me hide it in social situations. After getting back from the US a week before Thanksgiving, I started to get very sick. Many of my symptoms were consistent with what most women experience in their first trimester so I didn't think much about it. In early December at my 10 week check up, I got to hear our baby's heartbeat for the first (and only) time. I was ecstatic. Hearing this finally made it seem real. I felt confident, as did my nurse practitioner, that our baby was healthy and ready to share the good news with our friends and family.

At week 12, when all seemed to still be well, we let the cat out of the bag and told everyone in our Christmas card. Our elation at sharing our news was short lived. My first ultrasound was the following week.

Leading up to my 13 week ultrasound, I was sooooo excited. I couldn't wait to finally get a look at the little guy or gal that was making me so very ill and miserable for the past couple of months.

The technician started my exam and what happened next felt like getting slapped across the face. "Mrs. Barnard, I'm sorry but I am just not finding a heartbeat".

It was like one of those slow motion events. She said the words. I understood them. It just didn't feel real. I mean, how could this happen? I heard the heartbeat a few weeks ago. I have not had any bleeding or cramping to suggest anything was wrong. I looked over at Bill and couldn't read his face. I don't think he could believe what he was hearing either.

She brought another technician in to confirm her findings. I still had a shred of hope. Maybe she was wrong, I mean she had to be wrong right? There is no way my baby could have died.

They said our baby passed shortly after my 10 week exam based on its size. They were unsure why I had not already miscarried since it was 3 weeks later. They gave me an option of taking medication and miscarrying at home or to have the baby removed surgically. I just couldn't bear the thought of doing it on my own at home. I mean what are you supposed to do, flush your baby down the toilet? What a terrible thing to have to face at home.

Fortunately, they were able to schedule me for surgery 2 days later, on New Year's Eve. I just wanted it over with. It was a horrible feeling knowing I was still walking around with our baby inside me, just dead. Dead for 3 weeks already. It was so disturbing. I just wanted it out...and that made me feel guilty. It wasn't the baby's fault something went wrong. What did I do wrong? That cup of coffee? I forgot my prenatal vitamins a few days, was that it?? Everyone tells you it isn't your fault, not in your control when you miscarry, but anyone who has gone through this can't help but wonder if they did something to cause this. I mean, I'm the one who was carrying it after all. It must have been me. GUILT.

Then I was EMBARRASSED. We had shared our news with the world just a week earlier. I felt like an ass. I knew we should have waited until after that ultrasound, but it was Christmas and what a great thing to share with everyone at that time of the year. What a jerk I felt like. Last week: "We are pregnant!", this week: Uhhhh nevermind.

Next up, ANGER. How could this happen? I've been so sick for so long and I have nothing to show for it. What a waste. Oh wait, now there is GUILT again for thinking my baby was a waste.

Surgery went fine and I had very little pain afterward. Physical pain that is. Bill was working 12 hour night shifts during this time so I was alone a lot. A lot of time on my hands to sit and dwell and feel sorry for myself and for Bill. To mourn the loss of a child that I had loved with all my heart for 13 weeks. Made plans for and thought about constantly. Imagined what they would look like and what names we might give him or her. I was already that child's mom, even though I didn't have them to hold in my arms.

The following week, the hospital where I had my surgery had a non-denominational service in remembrance of the children under 12 weeks who had died in the month of December 2010. The remains are cremated and placed in a communal grave about 20 minutes from where we live. I like knowing that there is a place where our baby lies. A place we can visit if we want to.

Bill and I went about our lives, trying to get passed what had happened. It was not always easy. I mean you don't really advertise losing a baby on your Facebook status the way you can announce that you are expecting. So for the next several (who am I kidding, it is still happening to me) weeks I had to face people asking me in the grocery store about the baby or posting things on my Facebook wall about the baby. Normal things, normal questions. Me having to send them a private and awkward email letting them know I was no longer pregnant. Some of you reading this were on the other end of that awkward email so you know what I mean!

During those 3 months I was pregnant, I collected books on pregnancy, received Christmas gifts of clothes for the baby and other keepsakes, ect. I put all those things in a box and sealed it. It is in the closet of the spare bedroom for now. I'm not ready to look at those things. Probably will not be for a while.

In early February, Bill and I went on an amazing cruise. I actually booked it the day before the ultrasound and had it pegged as our "Baby Moon". Our last hurrah of vacation fun pre-baby. We were able to put those sad feelings aside and enjoy our vacation.

By mid February, 6 weeks had passed since all this happened and I was starting to feel more normal about it. Able to actually talk to someone about it other than just my mother or Bill. The day after we got back from our trip I received a phone call from the hospital. It was a doctor calling with some pathology results from tissue they obtained from me and our baby.

The test results showed that I was suffering from a very rare condition called partial molar pregnancy. It was part of the reason I was so extra sick while I was pregnant. It was a complete accident that takes place during conception resulting in my egg getting fertilized twice. Our baby had 69 chromosomes instead of the normal 46 and would have never survived past 16 weeks of gestation. This causes mass amounts of excess pregnancy hormones in the body (why you are extra sick) and a certain kind of tissue to grow on the placenta that ultimately kills the fetus and if not completely removed, may cause cancerous cells in my uterus and lungs.

Long story long, I've had to have several blood tests to confirm that my hormone levels are returning to normal (which they are) and this indicates that all the dangerous tissue is gone.

I am ok and healthy and for that we are very GRATEFUL. This does not effect our chances of having a healthy pregnancy and baby in the future and for that we are THANKFUL. So many other people out there have difficulty just getting pregnant. Our issue is completely different. We are not allowed to try for another baby until the end of summer because of the ongoing testing I require and to ensure that these cells do not return. This is of course a bummer, but it is not like we cannot have a baby so I still consider us very lucky. Things could have turned out much worse.

Since January, my license to practice as an occupational therapist was FINALLY approved for the UK and I got a great 1 year contract to work at one of the Cambridge University Hospitals. I do not suppose this would have happened if I were 6.5 months pregnant. I will take all this for what it is, and now I get to have the experience of working as a therapist abroad and for that I feel lucky. It just wasn't our time yet and I know our time will come. I know there will come a time when I will stop looking at other women with that tell tale bump and feel a little jealous. A time when I will not get that twang of sadness watching a mom push her baby in a stroller. That will be me someday. That will be us.

It is true when they say that time heals all wounds. After 3 short months I may not be healed, but I am definitely healing.