A Precious Blessing {Baby Boy's Story, Part I}

Many of you know that this is not our first pregnancy. B and I lost our first pregnancy at 8 weeks in July of last year. It was the most difficult thing we have gone through as a couple thus far. So sad. So hard. And still so unexplained. I'd like to say that this time around was a breeze from the get-go, but it hasn't been. Baby boy didn't exactly make the announcement of his presence the easiest on his parents. Since I haven't had a chance to share much of my pregnancy with you yet, I thought I would start by taking a minute to share a little bit of baby boy's story today, beginning with where we left off our losing our first pregnancy...

Back in July, despite our fervent wish for a baby and per doctor's orders, we decided to give up trying for a while and allow my body time to heal after the miscarriage. For those of you who have never had to experience a traumatic loss like a miscarriage - and I pray you never will - let me just tell you: it is hard on the body. I did not have to have a D&C or any additional procedures; my miscarriage was natural and was considered 'complete.' Despite that, the after-effects of our loss left remnants for months. The bleeding went on for days, almost weeks. I lost hair - a lot of hair. I've been told that after giving birth, many women lose hair. This is normal. Well, apparently this can also occur after a miscarriage. I wasn't prepared for it. It scared me. I suppose anytime your hair comes out in clumps, it's scary. My hormones were out of whack for weeks. I would cry. And then I would feel mad. And then I'd be fine for a while. And then I'd cry again. It was a messy time for me emotionally.

The worst part during this time though, was the feeling of being so alone. So isolated in my pain. That was definitely the hardest part. Despite the support from friends and family, I remember thinking that the loss was mine alone to bear. I felt that no one could understand the profound sense of loss I carried around with me; nestled right where a baby had once lived. I remember just wanting the months to pass so that the pain of our loss would be numbed. I couldn't wait to try again and hoped that a new pregnancy would fill the hole left in my heart by the loss of the first.

The recommended 'wait period' our doctor recommended finally passed. The hubs and I decided to try again. My hopes were high. We had gotten pregnant very quickly with our first, so I hoped we would be lucky again with our second. In September, the due date for my period came. And went. Nothing. I was overjoyed. I peed on a stick. One line. No baby. Several days passed. Still no period. Still no positive home test results. After a week, I called my gynecologist's office. They had me come in for a blood test to check my hormone levels. I got the call the next day. I remember the nurse's words exactly, "Your blood results are in. Your HCG levels are below a 5. You are not pregnant." I remember asking her, "Are you sure? There's absolutely no way I could possibly be pregnant?" "No," she said. "There is no way you could be pregnant. If you still haven't started your period in a few days, call me back and we'll get you on some Provera to get it going. Sometimes things like this happen after a miscarriage." I got off the phone, called my husband and cried my eyes out. Her words had crushed me. The tiny seed of hope that had been planted was stomped into dust. I felt like I was crumbling in upon myself with the sadness. My husband tried to reassure me, telling me that we would just try again. Assuring me that we would be lucky next time. Consoling me as best he knew how. It helped, but only slightly.

Another few days passed. I still had not started my period, but chalked it up to irregularity based on the miscarriage. When another full week had come and gone and I still hadn't started my period, I finally decided to do another home test. Again. Just for kicks. I knew I was probably just going to disappoint myself unnecessarily, but I woke up one morning and decided to just do it. I remember feeling like I just had to know. I remember my heart beating a pounding rhythm as I unwrapped the packet and pulled out the test. I remember wanting to squeeze my eyes shut and avoid looking at the results window on the stick, just knowing that I would only see one line instead of the desired two.

Then...

I remember finally picking the stick up, looking down and seeing two bright pink lines starting boldly back at me. No question about it. Two lines? I was pregnant! Despite a negative blood test and several negative urine tests, somehow, I was pregnant again. I grabbed the stick and went running into the bedroom at 6am to wake up the husband and share the good news with him. This time, I didn't worry about making the announcement an event. I just couldn't wait to tell him that we were going to have a baby.

Part II of Baby Boy's Story To Be Continued...