Monday, January 25, 2010

'Roo Ups and Downs

My doctor told me from the very beginning that pregnancy can be a rollercoaster of emotions. I was not prepared in the slightest for what would happen in the coming week.

The day after confirming the presence of our little one, Stacey and I were elated to see what was going on inside. We had our first ultrasound at Littleton Regional Hospital at 11 o'clock in the morning. "Arrive with a VERY full bladder," the instructions said. So I did. Lying down on the gurney, we could barely contain our excitement, attempting to take a photograph, which the kind man performing the sonogram informed us was against the rules. Oops.

After an unsuccessful try at an exterior sonogram, the technician decided we might see something more by performing an internal version of the same procedure. Big smiles, lots of heart tugs, laughter, giggles, and then....nothing. There was nothing on the screen, not even what the technician referred to as a gestational sac (the very beginning signs of a healthy pregnancy). He assured us it could simply be too early to see anything. "You are young and obviously healthy, you have nothing to worry about".

We left the appointment still filled with extreme giddiness and loads of hope.

Fast forward almost two days later. I was meeting with a wine representative at work (no, I didn't taste), along with my boss and friend, Stacey Northrop, and nearing the end of the meeting when my phone rang. "I have to take this, I think its my doctor calling to schedule our next appointment..."

I walked away from the two and took the call. "Jackie, this is Jessica. We've reviewed the results of your ultrasound, and the pregnancy is not viable. You will likely miscarry in the coming weeks". Just like that. No 'I'm sorry', or 'I regret to inform you...'.....NOTHING. I gathered since the conversation that she gives this information out regularly.

My knees literally gave out from underneath me, thankfully greeted by the front of a chair to fall down on. I don't remember exactly what was said after the fact, but I recall hearing I needed to have blood drawn immediately, it could be ectopic, blighted, etc, etc. I hung the phone up and lost complete control over my mind, body, tear ducts.

My poor co-workers. They thought I had lost my mind. I sent an email after the fact to the nice man who was talking to us about new wines. He seemed to understand. I began grieving without even thinking, without a single moment gone by. I was devastated and stayed that way for 3 days. I remained in bed, depressed over the baby I had only known was mine for less than a week. At one point, I lay down in the shower, desperate and exhausted, and plead with God to give my child another chance. Please, please, please, please, please, please…

Stacey was wonderful. He rubbed my back and wiped my tears, not knowing what I was feeling, just understanding and listening the way he always does. I knew he would be an amazing father someday.

I returned to work, noting the slow yet obvious depletion in my checking account, with a heavy heart and somewhat resentful disposition. Every step I took, I forced back tears and kept a smile on my face. I dreaded the inevitable "Congratulations" from people who had yet to hear the bad news. The clock ticked, ticked, ticked by slowly, and at around 7 o'clock, I began to wonder if this was such a good idea. Moments later, the phone rang, and I overheard my boss' husband, "Of course, of course, she's right here actually".

"Jackie, this is Jessica". Oh, Lord, please not this again. Why would she be calling me at 7 o'clock on a Saturday night? This is going to be bad.

"Jackie, we made a mistake. Your hormones are through the roof. You are definitely carrying a viable, healthy pregnancy".

No sweeter words were ever uttered! I stood and wept in the middle of the dining room, taking time to absorb the information and, for the moment, keep it my little secret inside. That lasted all of three minutes, but what a feeling!

The previous three days almost wiped from my consciousness, I laughed and cried my way through the rest of the shift. I managed to call Stacey, my Mom, Dad, and best friend while in the weeds, that was the type of adrenaline I was dealing with. Of the 25 years of memories in my bank, this night topped the list. It’s funny and devastating what the human soul can put itself through when it grieves, but when it comes out the other side unscathed and optimistic, it needs only the next day to carry on.

Back to reading 'What to Expect', following (she's the size of an orange seed this week!), picking out names, extreme gasiness, nausea, vomiting, getting fat, and all the other amazing and rewarding feelings that we come to expect.... when we're expecting.

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