As I sit here just seven weeks away from giving birth to our
second son, I can’t help but reflect on the fact that I’ve been pregnant for
over a year. Your eyes do not deceive you, I said I’ve been pregnant for over a
year. I know it seems unthinkable, but it’s true. Let me explain…
It had been a month since we celebrated Cannon’s (our first
born) first birthday when I found out I was pregnant again. While we were
excited, we were also shocked because it had been six years between our first [ectopic] pregnancy and Cannon. We had
been preparing to start trying again once Cannon turned 18mos old. Well needless to say, God had other plans for our family. He obviously wanted to let
us know that there was no need to worry ourselves over needing anything except
his Grace and Mercy to get pregnant again.
I’ll admit, I was petrified to have two kids under the age
of two! This baby was due less than a month before Cannon’s second birthday.
The thought of it gave me such anxiety that I was losing sleep at night! While
overwhelming, the thought of being a badass tandem-nursing Mama did excite me.
I worried so much about being prepared for another baby; about Cannon being
ready to be a sibling. I don’t think I’d ever been so confused with my
emotions. I wanted and prayed for this baby, but I was SO afraid of everything that came along with
being a Mom of two under two. Nonetheless, we pressed forward and set an
appointment with our midwives to confirm the pregnancy.
At about 6wks we went in to have an ultrasound to be sure
that this embryo had implanted properly. At that ultrasound, there was evidence
of a fetal pole, but no heartbeat yet. We were advised that it may be too early
for a heartbeat or we may be dealing with a blighted ovum and asked to return in two weeks. We
proceeded with our lives as if we were having another baby in a few months
(read: we still had no wine in the house), but were emotionally preparing
ourselves for the possibility that this pregnancy would not yield a baby.
During that two-week wait, we lived our lives in prayer. We
prayed that we were able to accept God’s decision for our family and that we
allowed Him to use us as He saw fit. We’d told our families and close friends
that we were pregnant and what was happening with us. They offered their
prayers and we accepted. I read countless stories of this happening to women
and they go back at 8wks for another ultrasound and there was a healthy embryo
with a beating heart. We were optimistic.
A day or so before our second ultrasound, I spoke with my
dad. I explained to him how I was feeling and how optimistic I was because I
trust God. His words to me were the most empowering I’d heard in this trying
time. He said “Well Babygirl, God can and will turn anything around.” That let
me know that as unemotional as my dad is, the last thing he wants for his girls
(I have three sisters) is to hurt. I keep those words close to me as we
approached our second appointment.
At the appointment, we saw more of a developed embryo, but
still no heart beat. We were crushed, but knew that God had a plan for us. Once
we were done with the ultrasound, the doctor spoke with us and told us that
there was no cardiac activity and that more than likely this pregnancy would
end shortly. He gave us the option to spontaneously abort (wait it out to miscarry),
have a D&C, or
to take a prescription drug that would encourage a miscarriage in a few days.
We told him we wanted some time to think it over, so he led us into the lobby
while he wrote the prescription in the event we wanted to “get it over with.”
While we waited, I turned to Keenan and said to him with
tear filled eyes, “I want to birth my baby no matter what. This is our baby and
I want to give him or her a birth. Who are we to make this decision for our
baby when God has a plan for us and them.” He accepted my words and my choice
and we left the office with the prescription in hand (just in case we changed
our minds).
A month or so later, Keenan had a work trip planned in Las
Vegas, so I took that as an opportunity to get away and relax for a few days
(this was my first time leaving Cannon overnight). I drank a little wine at
that point because I knew that this pregnancy was no longer progressing
(although my uterus was still growing) and I needed to really relax. I had been
bleeding off and on for over a month and was exhausted. Still, I wanted to give
my body a chance to do what it was designed to do.
Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years had come and gone and
I started thinking that I was crazy for waiting out this miscarriage for so
long (at this point, I would have been in my second trimester). I was tired of wondering when my body would
expel the pregnancy, so I decided I would make one last appointment with my doctor
to discuss my options again. I called on a Monday and they had an opening for
me Wednesday of that same week.
That Tuesday, my mom and I were out shopping and I started
cramping like crazy. I was passing blood clots every time I used the bathroom.
I was pretty sure this was it. This was the birth of my baby. We decided to go
home, so I could lie down and relax some. The entire ride home was gruesome. I
used the Hypnobabies
techniques to get through the pain as much as possible, but I couldn’t wait to
get home, so I could stretch out and do what my body was telling me to do. (I
texted Keenan to let him know what was going on, but told him I thought I was
ok and to stay at work. He left about 2hrs early anyway.)
Once we made it back to my house, I ate something and took
some Advil to help with the pain. I was in a daze. I was happy to be alone (my
mom was tending to Cannon). I was happy to be birthing our baby. I was in agony
(nothing like giving birth to Cannon), but I was elated at the same time. As
with birthing Cannon, movement was the best thing I could do for myself. I
swayed and squatted for an hour or so and spent most of the time in the
bathroom. Once my body gave me the go ahead, I was able to lie down and rest
with very little cramping and slept for a while.
By the time Keenan was home, I was still sore, but I felt a
sense of invigoration that I made it through. I was able to take it easy and
rest up for our appointment the next day.
At our appointment, we decided to go ahead and schedule a
D&C to be sure everything had been eliminated. We were on schedule for the
procedure a few days later and I can honestly say that I was ready. I had given
myself the time I needed to accept and grieve. I gave my body a chance to work
based on Gods design. I had given myself the freedom to follow my heart. With
that, I didn’t even think of the D&C as anything more than an outpatient
procedure as opposed to the first time we lost a baby in the hospital. The
first time I felt robbed. Robbed of my choices. Robbed of my rights. Robbed of
my time.
Needless to say, I had one menstrual cycle before we were
pregnant again. Ironically, Cannon was about 19mos old when we found out this
pregnancy. I felt ready this time. Ready to have two children (still scared as
hell even now, but ready). Ready for what God has asked me to do. Ready to
celebrate all of our children. I am ready.
So that is how I’ve been pregnant for over a year.
