Infertility: Miscarriage

When my husband and I decided to start trying for a family, we got pregnant very easily. I had calculated the day I got pregnant and knew I was exactly 6 weeks along. We excitedly announced the pregnancy to our parents with a special book with the due date. We were thrilled!

I was a high-risk pregnancy due to my age, so we decided to visit a high-risk OB. At the first visit the male doctor told me, "You're either not 6 weeks pregnant or this is not a viable pregnancy." He was so cold when he told me this. I lost it in the parking lot. He told us to come back in two weeks for a follow up. 

During that time I had to go on a business trip to New Orleans. I lived as if I was pregnant. I didn't drink, eat raw oysters, no cold cuts, etc. 

I hated that doctor's cold demeanor so I switched to a different high-risk OB at another hospital. My husband and I went to the next appointment when we received the bad news. No heartbeat. 

Since I worked nearby, I walked back to my office, closed the door and was hysterical. My legs wouldn't work. After I picked up my medication to expel the embryo, my husband drove me home. I called my mom and we arranged a day for her to be with me while I had my "diy miscarriage day." The pain was physically awful and the emotional pain was much worse. 

I ended up leaving all social media for over a month because I couldn't see my friends post photos of their newborns, or see pregnancy announcements without feeling sick with grief. My husband almost failed one of his rotations because of depression. I had never seen him cry before. One night he prayed and asked God to take care of our baby. I hadn't realized the impact this also had on him. 

We tried again a couple of months later and got pregnant the second month of trying. We didn't tell our parents the big news like the first time. I went to the appointment at six weeks and there was nothing there. This after bleeding for a week before and having to insert progesterone into my vagina on a nightly basis to get the bleeding to stop. The nurse that brought my miscarriage medicine prescription into the room was seven months pregnant. The sting of that was heartbreaking. 

We moved on and moved into our home, with the intention of turning one of the bedrooms into a nursery someday. After living there a month, I took a pregnancy test and it came up positive. When I told my parents they were not excited. I told them that this time felt different. We went to the eight week appointment and heard the most wonderful sound our baby's heartbeat. We never had that experience before. It was beautiful. Now we have an amazing one year old. Our Cecilia Frances. 

This blog was written by my friend and amazing baker, Anna Felber, who is located in Nebraska City. She operates Ginger Baby Cupcakes and is the mother to one year old Cecilia Frances.