In a previous post I mentioned that I had suffered a miscarriage in January 2018. Around the end of February (2018), my husband and I started partially trying again (we weren’t actively trying, but weren’t preventing it either). I wasn’t entirely sure if I was ready yet, but I tried to stay open minded in case I did get pregnant again. A couple of weeks later, I took a pregnancy test and it said that it was negative. I was a little disappointed, but I took it as it wasn’t our time to have another baby yet. A week before my birthday, I decided to take another test and it was positive! I couldn’t believe it. I took another test just to make sure and it was positive as well. I knew that it was soon after our miscarriage, but I was cautiously excited.
That night, I waited until my husband took the dog out to stage the tests to where he would see them. We had one hamburger bun left from the previous night’s dinner, so I put that along with the tests and a onesie on a (clean) pan in the oven. Once he got back inside, I said, “Can you check the oven? There is something in the oven. What did you leave in the oven?” He opened the oven door and turned to me and smiled. As he opened the door more, he noticed the hamburger bun in there.
“Did you really put the bun in with the wrapper?”
Side note: I did not have enough time to take the bun out of the wrapper nor did I want to waste a bun, so I put it in there still wrapped up. “Surprise!” I said as I was dying laughing. We were cautiously excited because of the experience we had just gone through. The next day on my way to work, I called to schedule my first doctors appointment and to see when my due date would be. As I pulled into the parking garage, the first appointment had been scheduled and I added it to my calendar. Now I had to wait until then to hopefully see something on the ultrasound. The next week, my husband and I went to see our therapist to talk about our new exciting news. She asked us how everything has been going, and we told her the news. Of course she was excited for us and asked how we were feeling about everything. By the end of our session, we decided that I would be the main one to come back to discuss how I was doing and dealing with the anxiety of a pregnancy after loss (PAL).
I made sure to take off the day of my first appointment. I wanted to make sure that if something happened or was wrong, I would at least have the day to myself. The morning of my appointment, I was anxious to get to the doctor. Since I was up hours before I had to be, I decided to pass the time by cleaning the apartment. I kept checking the clock and each hour that went by, I got more anxious. When it was finally time to leave, I double checked that I had everything and headed out the door. As I drove to the doctor, I tried to keep a positive attitude. My husband met me there and we walked to the OB/GYN department together. I gripped his hand tighter and tighter as we got closer to the door. After we checked in, the memories and emotions of the last time we were there came flooding back.
He kept reassuring me that it would be okay and I tried to keep a positive attitude. When the nurse called my name, we got up and followed her. This was it. Our lives could possibly change forever. As we followed her, I noticed that we were taking the same route as the last time we were there. Once she showed us to our room and left, all these emotions came flooding back. This was the same exact room that we were in a couple months before to confirm I had miscarried. There were not positive memories in this room, but I was hoping that there would be that day. Once the doctor and nurse came in, I tried my hardest not to cry. They explained that we would do the ultrasound and figure out our due date. Once I was all prepped and ready to go, they turned on the ultrasound monitor. This was it.
The image popped up on the screen and the tears started coming down again. There he or she was. Our tiny human. They did their measurements and looked to make sure everything was looking okay. Then they turned on the sound to hear the heartbeat. It came through so loudly and we started to cry. It was the best sound that we had ever heard. They determined that my due date was November 21st, the day before Thanksgiving. They gave us a folder that had all kinds of information and reading material in it for us. The painful memory of that room hurt a little less and a new beautiful memory was added.
As I reflect on this date, it has been a smidge emotional for me. One year ago today, I heard my daughter’s heartbeat for the first time. It seems as if the emotions that I felt that day are here today as well. It was the second big milestone I hit in my PAL and a small victory in what would be a long journey. As the years go on and new memories are made, this day might not carry as much weight as it does today.