The Long Road

All day today, I've been thinking about life with Hayden, and life before. Neil and I waited so long to have a baby. We were married six years before we felt ready. We decided to start trying in September of 2000 and I got pregnant right away. My due date was to be June 21st. The day we found out, we told all of our family and all of our friends, despite a few people's warnings about spreading the news too early on. I just felt certain that since we waited so long, and since it was so, so planned, and since we were so definitely ready, that this pregnancy was meant to be. I was only 6 and a half weeks along when I miscarried the first time. It was an ugly, horrifying moment and I fully realized I had just lost our baby. I went to the emergency room and the doctor who treated me was about six months pregnant herself. She seemed so cold the way she used terms like "materials of conception" instead of "baby" or "fetus." We had only known I was pregnant for about a week and a half, but that was plenty of time to believe in the pregnancy. It was very painful, but we were sure the next time, things would work out.

When my body had healed, we tried again. I got pregnant right away that time too and we found out in January of 2001. That due date was to be September 21st. I had started seeing a very well respected Ob/Gyn in the meantime, and went to see him right after we had the positive home pregnancy test. He was very reassuring and had me take progesterone as a precaution to help the pregnancy along. At my 8 week appointment, we saw the heartbeat on an ultrasound. That seemed to be a sure sign that things were going well. The first time, it had been so hard to call everyone and relive the experience over and over each time we broke the bad news. This time, we decided to wait until we made it to twelve weeks before we told anyone other than our parents. At eleven and a half weeks, I started spotting a little at work. I tried not to panic, but couldn't help but think the worst. I went in to see my doctor. He did an exam, and said that he was still optimistic and that an ultrasound the following morning would probably confirm everything was fine. But, I wasn't convinced.

I had to have the ultrasound at a hospital early the next morning. The ultrasound technician didn't say a word during the procedure. I asked her to tell me if the baby was okay and she said she couldn't give me any information. So, I pretty much knew it wasn't good. We went back to my doctor's waiting room. My doctor and the others in his practice also provided low cost prenatal care to teens and low income mothers. Which is a very good thing. But, at that particular time, the last things we wanted to see were very pregnant 16 year olds smoking cigarettes outside the office. So, we sat and waited and overheard these girls complaining about missing parties and the boyfriends that left them and we felt so wronged. We felt so furious that these people had healthy babies and felt judgmental enough in those moments to decide they didn't deserve the children they had.

We were finally called back and the doctor said that unfortunately, it was not a viable pregnancy. The baby didn't have a heartbeat and looked like it had stopped developing somewhere around the 9th week. Since I hadn't miscarried, I was to have a D&C and it was scheduled for a few days later. For those long days, I was profoundly depressed and angry, and conscious I was now carrying our dead baby. Every time I saw a pregnant woman or happy family, I felt myself die a little more. It was my lowest low. When it was all over, I couldn't even go back to that doctor. Neil and I both felt so defeated and really thought it might not ever work out for us.

In April of 2001, we went to the best infertility practice in our city. We met with an endocrinologist who did a few tests on me, but basically just told us to try again. He said that my two miscarriages were very different, and didn't seem to be results of a single recurring cause. We found out we were pregnant the third time in June. Since I was considered "high-risk" we were seen at very regular intervals and my progress was closely monitored. We had a fantastic Ob/Gyn and lots of ultrasounds to check for irregularities. Our 12 week appointment was on our 7th wedding anniversary. We heard the heartbeat with the doppler and finally felt like we could believe in this baby this time.

I just can't believe that was Hayden. There was so much pain and worry leading up to such great happiness and relief. And happiness like that can make you forget the pain. It's like I don't ever think about it anymore, and in those months, I could think of nothing else. I just want to remember that I am living the part of my life I was afraid I would never have. And I shouldn't ever forget that.