Colene's Story

A few years ago,  I was a happy wife and mother of a beautiful daughter.  I had been diagnosed with luteal phase defect, a condition that was said to have been a possible cause for my secondary infertility disorder.  The thought of not having another child was upsetting.  I'd be elated when I thought I was pregnant, and then the period would start.  On one of these occasions I took an over-the-counter pregnancy test.  The result was questionably negative.  My "period" started later the same day.  Thinking that 9 chances 10 there was no pregnancy, I went on with my life.  But my "period" just didn't want to reach completion.  I spotted.  In fact, a trip to the zoo resulted in bleeding that overflowed the light days pad I was wearing.  Of course, I called the doctor's office.  I was assured that I was probably just having an off cycle.  Not to worry.   My regular OB/GYN appointment was scheduled to take place very soon, anyway.  I had an episode of abdominal cramping that was unusual.  Not unbearable.  But definitely unusually uncomfortable.  The doctor on call (not my OB/GYN) thought it was just gas cramping.  He suggested I get a medication to resolve gas pain. The pain let up.  Once again, I tried not to worry.

Then (but not immediately) my milk came in.  I called the doctor's office to ask for treatment to relieve the discomfort.  (I have a history of galactaria and thought that maybe this was just a bad and unexpected episode.)  I was told to take another pregnancy test.  This time it was positive, in a hurry! I was told to come in that very day for blood work.  The blood work was positive for pregnancy. When I took the test 2 days later (on a Friday), the result showed that I wasn't having a miscarriage.  The level of whatever they were testing had increased, not decreased.  My doctor put me on progesterone for the weekend.  I was excited.  I was pregnant!!!

On Monday, I reported to the doctor's office.  Ultrasounds (both internal and external) were performed.  A tubal pregnancy was confirmed.  I was scheduled for surgery the same day.  It was to be by laporoscopy.  I asked about reimplantion of the baby into the uterus, but was told that it wasn't possible.  The procedure was said to have, possibly, resulted in one night's hospital stay for observation.  I was asked whether or not I'd like to share a room.  I am thankful to God that I chose a private room.  I can only imagine what it would have been like to have shared a room with a mommy with a new baby to cradle in her arms, family and friends stopping by for visits, and seeing the baby in the room.  Anyway, what started out to be a laporoscopy turned into a major surgery.  My bowel had wrapped around my tube. It was discovered that I have abdominal adhesions.  My insides were a mess!  And the tubal pregnancy was not on the side on which it was expected to be.  I lost the baby, the tube, and the ovary.  I came out of surgery with a c-section type incision.  The hospital stay lasted 5 calendar days.  During this time, I had a nun come into the room to congratulate me on my new baby. 

Why wasn't some kind of notice put upon my door to warn the nuns that I had LOST my baby?  I don't know.  Shortly before I left the hospital, I burst into tears for no apparent reason.  The sudden sobbing concerned me.  I walked the short distance to the nurses' station to tell the nurse about this.  I wasn't given comfort.  Instead, I was greeted with what appeared to be impatience.  I wondered if I was experiencing the "blues" that new moms sometimes experience after delivering a baby.  Could that be happening to me?  No answers were given.  No grief counselor darkened my hospital door.  I wasn't given my baby's body.  I was sent home with pain in my abdomen and in my heart, and items of well-wishing from friends and loved ones.  My memorial to Lauren (my baby's name) is in a small keepsake box with a picture on the top of the box.  The picture is of just a whisper of a baby peaking through flowers.  Inside the box are dried flowers and cards, and the arm bracelet from the hospital. This box is in my closet.  Every once in a while I take a look at the things in the box.  It reminds me of Lauren.

By the way, Lauren's name is in one of our family Bibles.  I picture myself seated in a rocker in heaven.  A handsome, young man walks up to me.  He is introduced by an angel.  The man's name is Lauren.  That is all of the introduction that is needed.  My precious Lauren.  He didn't have to go through the pain and trials that he might have experienced on Earth.  There is a reason why I never cradled him in my arms.  Though I don't know the reason now, someday I think I will. For now, I can cherish his darling big sister and his Daddy.  I can remember my other child, Lauren.  A tiny bundle of joy, that I held within my body and within my heart.

Thank you for letting me share my story.  I cried as I wrote this story.  It's funny.  Even time doesn't completely erase the feeling of loss.  It helps to know that the loss doesn't have to be permanent.  I may one day see Lauren again.  Oh, what a day of joy that shall be!