Pregnancy after miscarriage

For those of you who didn't know..... I'm pregnant! And safely in the second trimester :)

But oh man, pregnancy after miscarriage- it's hard, I'm not gonna lie. The first 12 weeks really were a rollercoster of emotion, hope, despair, belief and doubt.

Here is my story.

So, I had an inkling I was pregnant again, around the end of June. My period was late, but then it was the month directly after a miscarriage (I miscarried in early June), so I couldn't be sure if it was late or just taking it's sweet time as it can do after these things.

So for about two weeks I waited for it. Honestly I kinda just wanted my period to come. But as the days passed I began to suspect more and more. 

I really didn't want to take a pregnancy test. I knew I would be excited, but I also knew I would be consumed with fear. So for about two weeks I lived in denial and tried not to think about it.

I decided that I would take a pregnancy test when I started bleeding, just so if it was a miscarriage, I would know and I could get referred to the hospital clinic for recurrent miscarriage.

My Dad came to stay with us for a few days. And lo and behold, at this time when I wanted to be able to keep things together and enjoy the time with my Dad, I started bleeding. So, I took the test (hoping it was a negative and this was just my period), and BAM it came up positive straight away. So, I believed I was starting to have another miscarriage.

Oh man, that was so hard. I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry and cry, but I really felt the need to hold it together in front of my Dad. I did tell him what was happening, but didn't allow myself to break down. I prayed desperately 'please God, let this bleeding stay away till after he is gone and I can grieve properly.'

Well, my Dad left a few days later, and the bleeding had stopped altogether. I wasn't sure what to think. I was on that rollercoaster again, not knowing whether to hope or not. I went to the doctors and she ordered me a blood test. She didn't hold out much hope (she started telling me all about the miscarriage clinic), but she said if my pregnancy hormone was over 1500 I could get a scan. The highest my pregnancy hormone has been with my two prior pregnancies was 350.

I got the blood test. And got a phone call two days later- my pregnancy hormone was at 29,000! I couldn't believe it, that was SUCH an amazing number. But the thing about these hormones is that you have to get tested a few days apart to check they are rising. So I got another blood test a few days later and my hormone had gone up to 50,000! This was SO amazing. At about this time I began to have hope and believe this could be real.

During this time I had worked out roughly how far along I was. I lost my two previous babies at about 5 1/2 and 6 1/2 weeks. So reaching and passing those milestones in this pregnancy was a great feeling.

A few days after the blood tests I had a scan. All my scans before had shown nothing. So, I was fearful of this scan. Matt came with me. In the car I was feeling so, so scared. I prayed 'God, please let this be ok. But please don't let this be ambiguous. Let this scan clearly show a yes or a no.'

(I had had ambiguity with a pregnancy before and it was not a nice feeling.)

Matt prayed with me as we drove, and I walked into the scan with a sort of 'what will be will be,' feeling.

We got into the scan. And as soon as she put the scanner on my belly, I saw it. I knew this was real. Our little baby was tiny (1cm) but alive- she could see it's heartbeat! Our little baby was 7 weeks old.

I was so elated after this scan. It was really there, there was really a baby!

Around this time I started to develop quite bad morning sickness. I didn't enjoy it, but I saw it as a good sign of a healthy pregnancy. Every morning I vomited, and sometimes during the day too. I began to develop ongoing hunger, and began to carry snacks with me everywhere I went. It was hard to hide it, especially at work.

Sometimes the sickness was so bad, I just had to cry. It can wear you down, that constant unwell feeling. Then I would feel guilty about hating the sickness, as wasn't this what I had wanted to badly? It took a while for me to reconcile that I could feel both annoyed at the sickness, and at the same time oh so glad it was there.

Having had prior miscarriages, I tried not to be obsessive, but I can't lie, I was. I would feel anxious when I wasn't nauseous, I would often check for blood. The fear is not a nice place to be in. I tried to just let it go, but I couldn't. 

From about 7 weeks I did have a little bleeding probably about once a week. Let me tell you, as someone whose prior miscarriages started this way, this was not at all fun. Seeing blood would make me so upset, angry and fearful. I was so, so afraid and there was nothing I could do about it. I just had to ride with the emotions and hope and pray the bleeding would go away (it did.)

Through my early weeks I knew of a few friends who were early pregnant too, who lost their babies to miscarriage. I was so, so heartbroken for them because I know that pain, and I know that fear. I prayed for them and cried for them. Miscarriage seems so unfair. Their experiences fueled my fear that I would miscarry this baby too, so I had to work through that.

Each night and every morning (and often in between) I would pray, thanking God for this baby, and praying for his protection. I went to a conference in Auckland during this time, and someone who had experienced miscarriage also talked about the moment she realised that God loved her babies more than she ever could. This was a revelation for me, and took a bit of the stress away. Realising that God loves this baby more than I ever will helped me to relax a bit.

At 9 weeks I went for another scan. I had been bleeding a bit, and so again was fearful about what they might find. But again, I saw a lovely baby and a strong heartbeat. This time I was able to see baby wriggling around! Which was so amazing. I have a picture, but it is a bit blurry.

The head is at the left, the body is the C shaped looking blur in the middle of the screen.

So, the days began to tick away. The weeks felt incredibly slow. But, I decided to see everyday as a victory. Everyday as getting closer to that magic 12 weeks mark. (I know bad things can still happen after 12 weeks. But I knew I would feel better after 12 weeks as the chance of miscarriage is the so, so much lower.)

I joined a private group on Facebook for ladies having babies in March 14. It has been so great to share the journey with others. It really reinforced for me that we all experience pregnancy differently! I found out a few other friends are pregnant too, and it's been so nice to have chats with people about it.

I watched 'One born every minute' and began to believe that will be me. I would cry at the look on the parents faces being held their precious newborn. Even thinking about it makes me tear up (pregnancy hormones!).

Every day I believed with more and more faith that this baby was the one, that I would meet him/her in March.

And then- boom- at 11 weeks 4 days I started bleeding quite heavily. It went on for several days, and it really stressed me out. At times I really believed it was the end, and I was so upset. It was a good thing my scan was only a few days later. Going into the scan, again I didn't know what to think. I didn't know whether to hope. But amazingly, all was ok! Matt and I were so relieved/thankful/awe-struck/happy and all those good emotions at once.

I know this looks like just another baby scan to you, but this is the best photo ever to me!

Little baby feet! Oh, they kill me. Already wanna kiss them.

So, all seems well with the baby, and we saw it wriggling around heaps. It's so weird to know that baby is alive and well and having a good old time in there, and yet I can't feel it at all.

In the scan I found out I have a low placenta which might explain the bleeding. Either way, as a girl who is terrified of bleeding in pregnancy, I think I am just going to have to get used to it. This is me, my pregnancy, and I will have to handle whatever may come.

We took so much joy in telling people I'm pregnant. Emails, phone calls, texts, face to face- and we had such an excited response every time. There is nothing else like it- this joy, after so much pain, is such a salve to my soul.

To see such a turn around from my grief a few months ago, is so amazing. I'm constantly thankful. And I know we're not out of the woods yet (although, are parents ever out of the woods?), but we're starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. And starting to really believe we'll hold this little one in our arms in March next year.

We love you baby, and can't wait to meet you!

I've lost my university mojo

I'm seriously considering dropping out of my honors degree.

Everytime I sit down to my current assignment, every ounce of motivation leaves me. It feels like this is the most boring, painful thing I could be doing. And it's not the content of the assignment, its the action of studying and writing, just grates with me right now.

I have felt like this before- in the early months of this year. I seriously questioned what I was doing at university still, and in the end decided to re-structure my degree. I wonder now if this re-structure was just a band-aid but I haven't really fixed the problem.

I've been studying for years, alongside working as an interpreter, and until this year I really enjoyed it. Yes, assignments were a pain, but often I really enjoyed doing them.

This year doubt has crept in, and now it's slapping me in the face.

What am I doing? Why am I really continuing with post-grad study? What are my goals?
The answer to all three questions-  I don't know.

I suppose when I qualified as an interpreter, I imagined myself one day in the distant future, working as an academic researcher. I enjoy research. I enjoy my field of work, and combining the two seemed perfect. And, fitting in study is easy while interpreting, so it was the perfect match.

But now I wonder. Do I want to be an academic? If I really do, I would have to do a PHD. As I am doing study part time, this would take EIGHT years (including time to do a Masters degree first.) Eight years, and thousands and thousands of dollars.

I am starting to wonder if being an academic is the only way I can be intellectually satisfied and contribute to the interpreting profession. I know plenty of interpreters who contribute heaps in other ways- taking an active role in our interpreter association, doing their own reading and professional development and passing this onto others, becoming very skilled in certain areas and passing on their knowledge.

Also, there has been an interpreter specific post-grad program offered before. I didn't take it at that time, but if it's offered again perhaps I could. Perhaps something much more specific to my work would be better for me.

Not to mention the fact that a baby is on the way (wohoo!), so Matt and I are at a stage of our lives where priorities are shifting. I won't be able to finish my honors degree any time soon (I have another year to go after this part time.) That's not to say you can't study with a baby. Of course you can. But with my motivation this low already, I don't think it would work for me.

Maybe if I take a break, I could come back in a few years if I miss it?

At the same time, I think I should just finish this paper. I won't get a refund if I quit. And I might as well do what I can before baby gets here. I wonder if I'm just lazy and I just need to push and do some hard work to get through. Sometimes we have to do things we don't like, and if I give up now it would be such a waste.

Sometimes I wish someone else would make my decisions for me!

What to do....?

Addendum: I've decided to stick with the paper I am doing as there is only 6 weeks left. After that I will put my study on hold and see how I feel after some time off.

A Weekend Away

Matt and I went away for a long (four day) weekend, exploring the middle of our lovely North Island.

The main purpose of the weekend was to go to Rotorua for my friends 30th birthday. We stayed together in an AMAZING house, and hung out, ate food, chatted, watched movies and dressed up as rubix cubes for the party night...

There's something so lovely and energising about being with friends. Ones who truly get you, and who you  can relax with. You can all just watch a movie together, or play Jenga Boom and be totally yourself, totally content. I love times like that.

After we left, Matt and I headed down to Napier for the night and stayed in a pretty nice motel. It had a spa bath in the room- that is the epitome of class for me!

We spent a short time at the beach. I've been feeling a bit unwell, so I loved going to the beach, hearing the waves boom, seeing the vastness of the grey ocean.

Because I was lucky enough to grow up near the ocean, the beach has always been my place to go when I need refreshment, time out, space to think. Even spending a few minutes at Napier beach was enough to refresh me.  I found that the millions of pebbles, enormity of the waves and enduring nature of the ocean helped me put my problems into perspective a bit.

It was great to spend some quality time with my hubby. Just being with him is so enjoyable to me. Sometimes we miss that being in the rush of day to day life. So some quality time was just what we needed.

Weekend get away's are the best. So refreshing for such a short time. I think I'll start planning the next one....

A wonderful, ordinary life.

Tonight I heard one of the simplest sermons I have heard in a long time, and it was refreshing in it's simplicity.
'An ordinary life can be a wonderful life.'

I've written on the topic before, but this talk resonated with me again.

Actually it wasn't so much a sermon, as a look at the movie 'It's a wonderful life.' In the movie 'George' is unfulfilled  he feels he hasn't achieved his dreams, and his discouragement leads him to contemplate suicide. Luckily for him, a (slightly awkward) guardian angel is on hand to help him out. George wishes he 'had never been born,' and soon finds out what the world would have been like without him. His wife is now a sad spinster (this movie was made in the 40s....), his family company has closed down, he wasn't alive to save his brother as a child and so those that his brother saved later in life are now all dead too. George is so distraught at this world and begs for things to go back to how they were.
And like that (because voila- in magical movie land anything can happen) he is back to his life.

Except what was before seemed depressing, hopeless and mundane to him was now magic- full of joy and love and excitement.

It's all a matter of perspective and realisation that even an 'ordinary' life impacts and touches so many.

A refreshing, and simple reminder for a Sunday afternoon.

Dad

Dad is coming to town for a few days and staying with us. I'm super excited!

(Us in 2006)

I don't often get to spend time with Dad, so I'm looking forward to it. We actually have a guest bedroom this time, so I have had fun setting up the room for him (I feel like a proper grown up! haha). 

There's always something special about a Dad-daughter relationship.

(Walking me down the aisle in 11')

See you soon! :)