My Scare.

I have been terrified of miscarriage from the moment I found out I was pregnant.

I have read time after time of women with PCOS who continued losing babies. I knew my body hadn't been prepped for a baby to stick, so it was always there in the back of my head, taunting me. Right before Easter weekend, when I still hadn't heard about my HCG results, I was tormented with thoughts. What if my Progesterone is low? (Progesterone is usually known to be low in women with PCOS, and it is a vital hormone for a successful pregnancy) What if by the time I find that out, it's too late for me to supplement with a pill form? Can I really wait a whole weekend not knowing if my numbers are good? These were the thoughts that continued to haunt me. Finally, that Good Friday, when I knew I wouldn't have the answers I so desperately sought after, I made a plea to God to take my worry. I had no clue at the time how He would. But literally the moment the prayer ceased, I felt a wave of peace wash over me, calming me. I didn't worry again the whole weekend. That Monday (April 9th), I found out that my HCG was great--4,475. I was relieved, and finally, I could rest in the pregnancy and the validity of it.

At midnight that night, I went to use the restroom. I was horrified when I saw that I was bleeding bright red, and that I'd passed a significantly big clot. I was hysterical. I thought I'd lost the baby. I kept asking God over and over again, "Why? Why would you give me this joy only to take it away?" I was frantic, and I wasn't in a good place at all. The next morning, I called and explained the situation, and my ob office said I could come in without an appointment. I was numb sitting in the waiting room. They led me to one of the patient rooms, and I just remember thinking how insensitive those rooms are to women who are experiencing the threat of a miscarriage. There were baby and parent magazines tucked in a nook, with black and white photos of babies framed on the wall. I just kept thinking "What would my baby have looked like? Why wasn't it given a chance?" I cried silently at first, then breathed deeply, reminding myself that I didn't have a definite confirmation that I'd lost the baby yet. As grim as the situation seemed, I couldn't give up hope.

After what was literally at least 45 minutes, I was taken to the ultrasound room. I was horrified at the flat screen tv on the wall. I would have to see an empty sac in cinema scope? I didn't know that I could handle that. But, I braved whatever little strength I had left, and crawled onto the table. The nurse began the ultrasound. I saw the sac at first, and I thought sure I was seeing things. But with a little shift of the tool, the nurse said simply "There's your baby." I literally said "Oh my God," at least five times, then began to uncontrollably praise God. Praises of "Thank you God, thank you Lord, thank you Jesus," flooded from my mouth, and I couldn't stop it as the tears rolled down my cheeks. She soon showed me its beautiful, tiny heartbeat, beating away at 115 beats per minute. I didn't even know I'd be able to see that at this point, much less hear that amazing rhythm in my ears as she turned up the sound. I couldn't believe it; I still had my baby, against all odds.

My little fighter's first picture! :) 

The doctor explained that I would be diagnosed with Threatened Miscarriage, which basically meant bleeding during pregnancy. He told me to expect some spotting, but that it shouldn't be an issue unless the consistency changed or became heavier. On an instinct, I asked about getting tested for my Progesterone. The doctor agreed, and that day I found out it was 10.5. That's a good number, but the doctor wanted to put me on Progesterone as a precaution. Right after I took the first pill, I stopped bleeding, and I haven't bled since :)