Let me just start by saying that sometimes nature is an asshole. Sometimes, you are completely exhausted by something and decide to stop doing it on your own terms, but then nature has a plan of it’s own and it totally fucks shit up. If you read my last post you know we have decided to take a break from trying to conceive with medical intervention. This was our last cycle. And we were both ready for it. The two week window was different this time. I still went through the same “what ifs” but a large part of me felt relieved for it all to be over and for life to get back to normal.
On top of all the baby talk, we’re midway through a PCS move and a deployment looms in the very near future. Planning the move and trying to prepare mentally for a deployment was more than enough to take my mind off my cycle and babies. Even though there was a lot of new stress, it was still a nice break from the norm. Then, last friday I got a big fat positive. Ok, so it was more of a “faint second line” and less of a “big fat line”. I don’t even know how to describe the emotions that went through my mind the entire weekend. The scales tipped constantly from extreme excitement and extreme worry that a faint line wasn’t great news. I made a conscious mental decision that there was no point in worrying, and even if it was bad, I was still pregnant this weekend so I might as well enjoy it. We began thinking about how amazing it would be to have a baby in Hawaii and all the things we would do. I began thinking about how I’d keep my husband up to date on pregnancy stuff while he was deployed.
Monday came and I went in for a blood test to confirm. My HCG level came back at 14. This in itself wasn’t super great news, but a single number doesn’t necessarily matter as much as the following number. HCG levels should double every 2 days (ish) so my follow up test on Friday needed to be around 60. Needless to say, this made me extremely nervous and anxious. There was nothing I could do to change the fate of this embryo. It was either going to make it or it wasn’t. My pregnancy symptoms came and went in phases. I googled everything. I drove my husband crazy and my nerves rubbed off on him.
By Friday, my pregnancy symptoms had mostly gone away and I knew this wasn’t good news. I went in for my blood test and my HCG came back at 5. The nurse who called didn’t really even want to tell me it went down. She just called me to say the doctor wanted me to repeat again on Monday and the level was low. I had to ask her 3 or 4 times for the actual number and after saying it was 5, she told me it meant I had a chemical pregnancy. Because I had already googled my brains out, I knew instantly what that meant. A chemical pregnancy is where the egg is fertilized, implants, and then for whatever reason cannot continue to grow. It is a miscarriage at a very early stage, some women are not even aware this happens.
I am 5 weeks and 3 days. I will not have a successful pregnancy. I have now officially been pregnant, and part of me wishes I never knew. I’ve never gotten to hear a heartbeat, I don’t think it ever had one. And yet, I feel like I have suffered a great loss. It has been extremely difficult to accept 1. that I got pregnant and 2. that I lost it all within a matter of days. We’re dealing with it, on top of dealing with the move and a deployment. I don’t know how I’ll feel in 6 months or a year, or when we’ll be ready to seriously try again. Right now we just need to heal. Right now I just need to not be pissed at nature for the world’s worst roller coaster.