Angela's Story

We had our first child, Emily Theresa. The pregnancy was mostly wonderful, except for a few very minor complications. The labor was long and almost ended up in a caesarean delivery, but looking back it now seems "not so bad." We had planned to have 3 children (maybe four, if I could get my way) each 2 years apart.

When Emily was 9 months old we got a surprise -- I was pregnant! But right from the start I knew something was wrong. My period was a few days late and it was VERY, VERY light. I had been extremely tired and just had that inkling that I was pregnant. A friend of mine said that at the very beginning of each of her pregnancies she bled a little -- her doctor called it implantation bleeding. Although I had not experienced this with Emily, I thought it could be normal. The second pink line on my home-pregnancy test showed up very faint. Reservedly excited, I called my doctor and announced that I thought I was pregnant, and could I come in for a test to make sure.

The nurse who performed the test confirmed that I was pregnant,and asked if I had done an at-home test? And if so, why did I feel the need for them to confirm it? I told her about the bleeding and she sent me to see the doctor. My doctor told me not to get too hopeful, that something was probably wrong and I would miscarry; that most women would've just thought it was a "strange" period. (I guess I'm a little more aware of my body than most. I practice NFP, so through all the charting I really am very in-tune as to what's happening with me.) She told me to call if I experienced extremely heavy bleeding or any pain.

A few nights later, the bleeding had stopped and my husband and I were getting over the shock and anxiety of having 2 children 17 months apart. I was getting very excited and had even told my mom. Then the pain came. Not excruciating, but different than menstrual pain. It came in waves and started mostly on my left side. It was late at night, I knew my doctor was out of town, so I debated waiting until morning to call anyone. I got out our well-worn copy of "What to Expect..." and read the symptoms of miscarriage and ectopic pregnancy. I got scared. Just to make sure I wasn't being paranoid, I asked my husband to read the section. He finished and said, "Call the doctor-NOW." I called the doctor who took all MY doctor's calls while she was away. He told me that he really didn't think it was ectopic because I didn't have any of the risk factors. I should go to sleep and call my own doctor the next day and ask for an HCG "quants" test. I was surely miscarrying. I did NOT rest easy that night.

The next day my doctor did an ultrasound and found what she thought was the "fetal tissue," not living and quite obviously deformed, in my uterus. Since I was in such pain and so emotionally upset she suggested I go to the hospital the next day for a D&C. Scared to death, I agreed. Two days after "the procedure" she called me back. Pathology examined all that was removed from my uterus and found no fetal cells present. The pregnancy was not in my uterus. I needed to get to her office immediately. A blood test confirmed, I was, indeed still pregnant. We discussed my options and decided to try a shot of methotrexate to stop the growth of cells. This promised the least chance of tubal scarring. I received my first shot that day. Four or five days later I went in for a blood test. It took 2 days for the results-my hormone levels had not dropped. Another shot. Another four or five days. Another blood test. Another two days. Again-no drop. We discussed surgery. Would my tube rupture if we took the time to try another round? Originally she said one or two doses would do it.

Why didn't they work? Would the methotrexate harm ME? My husband and I agreed one last chance, then I'd have surgery. The waiting was really taking its toll on us emotionally. They gave me a double dose of the drug. Five days...blood test... two days.

YES!!!! My hormone levels fell enough to confirm I was no longer pregnant. Now I had to deal with the feeling that I had killed my baby. My beliefs along these lines are strictly Catholic and I had a very hard time dealing with this.

Now that we had been pregnant with our second, we were anxious to enlarge our family and start on the third. The doctor told me I had to wait 3 or 4 months after my hormone levels hit zero. It took a long time and many blood tests. Finally, just days before Emily's first birthday, I had no more HCG left and could start the countdown...

Last month my husband and I started trying again to get pregnant. We did not. We had a long, much-needed, and overdue conversation about if we were truly ready to start trying. He was not, but went along with it because he didn't want to upset me. He is more scared than I ever thought. As what usually seems to be the case, he's terrified of it happening again and losing me; whereas I'm only scared that I won't be able to have any more children. My own safety has barely been a thought in my head. We are working through things now-finally. I feel that until I am healthfully pregnant again I won't be able to put this whole experience in the right place behind me. Until then it absorbs a portion of every thought I have every day.

I resent that I, who wanted to be a Mommy her whole life, have to face such uncertainty and fear. I feel just awful that my husband tries to swallow his own fears in order to be strong for me. I am mad that someday, when I do get a positive result on an at-home pregnancy test, I can not feel elated, like I was with Emily. I, and my husband, will be terrified for 8 whole weeks until we can get an accurate ultrasound. And I am scared that although this feels like we may be near the end of this road, I will find something horribly wrong with me, and that it is really only the beginning of a much longer, more painful road ahead.

We were both really "okay" with the situation as it was. I could rest. That decision and acceptance came about a week before Christmas 1999. Towards the end of January I found out, to my surprise, I was indeed, pregnant!  I had several ultrasounds during the first trimester, just making sure the baby was where he was supposed to be and healthy. Finally at 12 weeks, I believed I was really going to have a normal pregnancy. And I did. My pregnancy was "smooth sailing"-we even enjoyed a three week vacation at my in-laws' home in Maui during the second trimester. Ryan Michael Carter arrived September 18, 2000.