By: Jenna Richards
Updated: Aug. 3, 2016
Originally Published: Sep. 18, 2013
As I made my way to the doctor’s office, anxiety bubbled up inside me. I couldn’t quite place why I was feeling so uneasy about seeing Dr. Harper, my ob/gyn. This was my fourth appointment in five years, a follow-up after my recent miscarriage, and the second time I’d seen her since my D&C. I hoped that once I arrived, my nerves would ease. I tried some deep breathing and positive affirmations, but those strategies fell flat. The worry was creeping back in; I might finally learn what led to this latest loss.
Why was I so apprehensive? The answer was simple: I felt responsible. I was certain that I had caused our baby’s death. Stepping into the doctor’s office felt like a confirmation of my worst fear.
Just six weeks prior, my husband and I had gone for our 12-week ultrasound, excited and hopeful. Just four weeks earlier, we had seen our baby’s strong heartbeat. We were ready to see our little one’s face, but instead, we were hit with the heartbreaking news that our baby had stopped growing at 10 weeks. We had lost yet another precious angel.
As the shock faded, I found myself replaying the timeline, trying to pinpoint when things went wrong. Had I inadvertently caused this loss? During that weekend trip to New York City at 10 weeks pregnant, did I do something harmful? Was it that delicious but possibly unpasteurized mozzarella I indulged in?
Or perhaps it was the fact that I walked an average of six miles a day—my body was not used to that kind of exertion. Could it have been that tiny sip of wine my sister convinced me to try? I should have known better. Maybe flying was the culprit; I had circulation issues that required me to take baby aspirin during pregnancy. Did the flight restrict oxygen flow to my baby? Had I consumed too much caffeine? I tried to keep it to 200 mg but perhaps I miscalculated.
Deep down, I believed losing the baby was my fault. It had to be. Experiencing a fourth loss was utterly devastating. After having my two little girls, Mia and Lily, I had tricked myself into thinking I was out of the woods. Apparently, I was mistaken. Just being pregnant felt like a game of Russian Roulette with a baby’s life.
After a brief wait in the reception area, I was ushered into the exam room by my doctor’s nurse, Sarah. She expressed her condolences for my loss and took my blood pressure, which was uncharacteristically high at 148/98. I usually run around 110/70, so clearly, I needed to calm myself down.
While I waited for Dr. Harper, I took deep breaths and tried to convince myself that I wasn’t to blame for the baby’s death. Miscarriages are common, especially in the first trimester; the miracle is when a pregnancy goes full term. I realized that regardless of the cause, I couldn’t change the outcome. All I could do was wait for my doctor to share the results.
When Dr. Harper finally entered, she greeted me with a warm hug. She had been by my side through all my losses, always maintaining a sense of optimism. She sat down and shared the results from the genetic testing on the fetus.
“Your baby was a girl,” she said.
A laugh escaped me, as it confirmed my instinct—I had been calling the baby a girl since week five.
“The tests revealed some extra chromosomes. It’s unclear whether these were part of the baby or the placenta, but other markers suggest it was likely a problem with the fetus itself. Specifically, there was an extra chromosome 21, which is an indicator of Down’s Syndrome.”
A wave of relief washed over me. I could finally stop blaming myself; there had been something wrong from the start. My doctor reassured me that the likelihood of this happening again was low, even at my age. I mentioned that my husband and I wanted to try for another baby, and she encouraged me to call her as soon as I got a positive test.
Yet, a part of me still fears another loss if I become pregnant again. At 42, the odds seem stacked against me. But for now, all I can do is hope for the best and cherish my husband and my beautiful girls.
For more on navigating the complexities of pregnancy and loss, check out this excellent resource from the CDC. If you’re exploring your fertility journey, consider visiting Make a Mom, an authority on the topic. And if you’re looking for more tips on home insemination, our blog at Home Insemination Kit has you covered!
In summary, grappling with the emotions surrounding miscarriage and self-blame is a common struggle. While it’s natural to seek answers, it’s also essential to remember that many factors are beyond our control. Embracing hope and love can help navigate the uncertain journey ahead.