I’m Having a Miscarriage. I Think?

I’m pregnant. And I’m having a miscarriage. I think.

What Do You Mean “I Think?”

A little over two weeks ago I looked at my calendar and thought, “whoa! It’s been a really long time since I’ve had a period.” Long cycles are normal for me, so I take them with a grain of salt. When I was still a teenager one OB/Gyn told me I probably have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I have most of the symptoms – carrying extra weight, facial hair, and really long cycles with painful periods. She said it would probably be difficult to get pregnant, and it has been “difficult” to some extent. It took two years to get pregnant with both of my girls, totally naturally with no intervention. The doctor said both my husband and I are totally healthy and it would just happen when it happened. She offered fertility drugs and other interventions but we opted to just go with it and see what happened.

I got pregnant both times actively trying, ready for pregnancy, wanting a baby yesterday, and I didn’t take a pregnancy test until about 7 or 8 weeks from my last period.

So when my period was late this time, it was no big deal. It had been about 40 days since my last period. But something inside me said “take a test.” It’s only been 8 months since I’ve been off birth control. My youngest is not even 2 years old yet. I just couldn’t possibly see how it had happened this fast. But still, “take a test.”

So, I dropped my oldest off at dance camp and headed to the pharmacy with my youngest.

Surprise!

“Guess what I’m doing?!” I messaged my family in a group text, with a picture of Matilda holding the test.

“What?!”

“OMG you better tell us as soon as you take it!”

Were the responses from my sisters. My mom said something to the effect of “how lovely.”

My brother doesn’t really respond in those situations.

I went home and took the test while my kids played in the front of the house.

BAM. There is was. I’m pregnant.

“Holy shit. How is this possible?” I wondered.

I have plans. I’m building a business. I’m writing a book. I have to lose weight. What the fuck!?

That pretty much sums up the first thirty minutes after I took the test.

Life Has Other Plans

But I have given myself up entirely to the universe and all of its mysteries. I know that I will never get anything I haven’t attracted to me. And this pregnancy has stood, even now, as confirmation to me that I really do want a big family. I do want more children. I looked at my two beautiful, happy, healthy girls and thought “this is a perfect example of what it is like to be deliriously happy with what I have and still eager for more.”

I get to decide what I want. I get to have what I want.

I don’t get to decide how or when I get it.

And I’m not only okay with that, I’m fascinated to watch it all unfold when I can step back and see the bigger picture. Which I’m usually quite good at.

Inspired

So instead of this pregnancy derailing my plans, it inspired me to race towards them, confident that a baby or two or three would not only not stop my dreams. It would only add to them. I’m forty this year. Forty. I am determined that I can have it all.

I continued with my plan to write my book, setting aside my time each Sunday to leave my family and head off to a cafe to write. I outlined the chapters of my book that first weekend after the test in a lovely coffee shop in Oakland.

I kept up regular exercise, determined not to gain weight during this pregnancy (I gained 90 pounds with my first pregnancy and had gestational diabetes with my second.)

I cut my coffee consumption in half. I cut sugar out of my diet. I began the process of actually dealing with my out of control spending and approach to my finances (my approach has always been to not deal with them at all.) I put in my notice at work, something pretty much everyone in my life has been pushing me to do, and I’ve known I have to do, but that I just couldn’t bring myself to do (I only tutor two days a week, and I really love my job). These are all things I had been wanting to do anyway. This pregnancy was an excellent way to finally do the things I had been saying I wanted to do.

It was a fun filled and exciting two weeks as I began to prepare for yet another baby in our growing household.

This pregnancy has been great so far. Sore breasts and really high emotions are par for the course, but everything else just felt great. No nausea or aches and pains. No real bloating or anything to complain about really. I don’t really get attached to a pregnancy until after the heartbeat ultrasound appointment, but I was warming up to my new identity as a mom of three.

“I’m Bleeding”

Then two nights ago, the night before I was schedule to go in for the ultrasound, I went to the bathroom and wiped. Brown blood.

“I’m bleeding.” I thought. I’m bleeding.

If you know anything about pregnancy you know that common wisdom says brown blood is old blood, probably nothing to worry about. I didn’t worry too much, but I never bled with my first two pregnancies. But I did bleed, obviously, when I last had a miscarriage, 9 years ago. And it started with brown blood.

I was pretty sure I was having a miscarriage, but I didn’t freak out. Because I’m pretty good at not freaking out over anything anymore.

I went to sleep that night, woke up the next morning. There was a little blood on the toilet paper again. No big deal?

Then I started some light cramping.

Okay, well, it’s morning, and I typically have light cramping in the morning. No big deal?

No Big Deal?

I did my best to get through the fog of the morning, meeting deadlines for clients, playing with my kids, looking in my kids’ faces and thinking “whatever this is, I have two gorgeous kids already.”

My appointment was for 2:30 that afternoon. My sister arrived shortly after I put Matilda down for her nap. Celaya had planned to come with us, but because she is so emotional, she decided, with all the information that we had, that she would rather stay home and not go through the roller coaster of a doctor’s appointment that may reveal no heartbeat.

My husband had originally not planned to come, “One heartbeat is the same as a million heartbeats. I’ve been to these appointments before. Do you need me there?” Was his original position.

No, I didn’t need him there.

“I’ll meet you there.” Was how he was feeling now. So he met us at the doctor’s office. I peed in a cup, steeped on a scale, got my blood pressure taken, got naked, put a sheet on my lap, and waited with my two guardians for the doctor to come in.

No Baby In There: Miscarriage?

Days earlier, I had envisioned my post on social media, like my last two posts with my last two babies: “There’s a baby in there!” With a picture of the ultrasound, tiny little heartbeat fluttering.

The doctor came into the room, very nice, asking questions about my bleeding, about my previous miscarriage, about my medical history.

She did my exam and confirmed my bleeding, with some tissue, and prepared the transvaginal scope.

She began the ultrasound.

“There’s the gestational sac. There’s a cyst on your ovary. That’s normal. You’re supposed to have as cyst on your ovary. And there, see that tiny little dot?” She said as she pointed to the screen. “There’s the yolk sac. But… I don’t see a fetal pole, which would be the beginning of the baby.”

I sat, interested, intrigued, wondering what on earth was going on.

We talked about what she was seeing, and what it meant.

My gestational sac is measuring at 6 weeks, which is normal for me, for the timeline to be that off, because of my long cycles. What would be 8 weeks for anyone else is typically 6 or 7 weeks for me because I ovulate later.

So, this is actually quite normal. The baby is not always visible on a 6 week ultrasound. Everything else looks really good and healthy like a normal early pregnancy.

BUT… Miscarriage?

I’m bleeding.

Well, that’s not so abnormal either. Apparently 25% percent of pregnancies are accompanied by blood. Some women bleed through their entire pregnancies.

What the fuck?!

“But I’m probably having a miscarriage, right?” I asked the doctor, preparing myself.

“Well… most likely. But you never know. It is totally possible that the bleeding is normal. It is pretty light. And a baby could show up by next week. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

Wait and See You’ve Got to Be Fucking Kidding Me

I’m not a wait and see kind of person. I’m like give it to me and let me deal with it all now.

Naturally, I spent the rest of the day in a fog. Why is this happening to me? Why have I attracted this? What am I supposed to be learning?

“You’re still going to your women’s circle tonight?” My husband asked, astonished.

“Yes. Of course I’m still going to my women’s circle. I’m not in pain. I’m not bleeding out. I have women counting on me to be there. Bye!” And I kissed my family goodnight and headed out to meet my women.

The circle was awesome. We talked about choosing love, about being relentless in our kindness with each other, no matter who we encounter, and we talked about shifting perspectives.

I came home, did a bit more client work, gorged myself on chocolate and pretzels (my go to what the fuck is happening coping mechanism) and went to bed around midnight. I slept in this morning, and when I woke up, I had fresh eyes.

Que Sera, Sera

I realized this morning that I’m actually not worried about waiting a week. I’m okay with whatever process is taking place. Even if I am miscarrying, which is the most likely scenario here, I am not losing a baby. There was no baby on that screen. I am losing a potential pregnancy. And I am okay with that. If the potential baby is not healthy enough to stay (which is the reason for miscarriage this early), I’d rather it go away and come back another day.

I don’t want to force anything in my life, least of all a baby. I do not want to be bedridden for a pregnancy. I don’t want a baby at all costs.

I have always said, and I still say, that my babies are healthy and strong like warriors. They want to be here and they are determined to stay. That is the baby I want, whenever it’s ready to arrive. I’ll be here, ready to cocreate.

So this next week will be an experience, a very interesting experience. I’m still not bleeding freely or heavily. Still no cramping. I still feel pregnant. But none of that means anything. I could go into severe bleeding and cramping at any moment. Or a baby could show up in the next couple days and I could bleed through this pregnancy. Or I may have to have an empty sac surgically removed by my doctor. OR or or or or any number of possibilities.

Intentional and Relentless

Interestingly enough, where I am now in my life, I am purely positively interested and fascinated to see how it will all unfold.

And perhaps that is the greatest lesson in all of this for me. I can do anything, have anything, be anyone, and I can have it all. Everything else that happens around me and even to me is merely part of my journey, and it is all for the good in the end.

So, no, don’t comment on this post with sympathy. Do not feel sorry for me. I am not sorry or sad. I may cry, a lot, but that’s just the damn hormones! If you are sad, you will only be bringing yourself down. I am intrigued. I am filled with wonder at the amazing life experiences of humans. At the amazing perfection of the human body and the female form.

Ultimately, whatever happens is going to happen. I am a cocreator in my reality but I do not to pretend to understand it all. I am in control of my emotions and I am responsible for everything that happens to me, but I do not pretend to know, in the moment, what each thing means.

I do trust that I will gain clarity from this, that I will be stronger in the end, and that I will always return to joy.

For now, and for always, I’ll live my life, going intentionally through my day, relentless in my pursuit of love.