Cara's 10-month-old son, Aiven, taking a break in Ireland.
Scheduling an ultrasound in Ireland was not so easy. It took a while to locate an ultrasound office — we found one in Limerick, an hour away. They wouldn’t accept me as a patient without a referral, so I had to contact my OB/GYN in New York to email me a prescription for a pelvic ultrasound.
So off we went early this morning after a restless night. It was a dark, dank drive into Limerick (the locale of Angela’s Ashes) and thankfully we gave ourselves an hour leeway to find the office. We were only lost for half an hour, which is quite an accomplishment for us. The waiting room was occupied by a humorless couple who refused to acknowledge Aiven’s existence, spoiling our usual fun of showing him off. They were ahead of us in the queue, and we did not have to wait long for their appointment to end.
According to my fertility charting skills, I am eight weeks, six days along in my pregnancy. Therefore, I expected to see a bean on the screen. I knew that I shouldn’t expect to see too much just yet, but I expected something. I did not expect an empty sac. My hopes deflated like that empty sac. The most disappointing things in life aren’t accompanied by a crash of cymbals or a flashing screen that says “Game Over”. It happens silently, painfully, on the inside.
The Doctor advised me my dates could be off (they aren’t) and asked that I come back in 10 days for another scan (probably pointless). There is no baby. It’s a blighted ovum – another name for what Tamara experienced. And it sucks worse than the name.
Of course the moment we came home, I ran to the computer to look for comparable images. Nine-week ultrasounds clearly have a fetus in the sac. I also found out if you have an inverted or tilted uterus, it may be more difficult to see the baby before 10 weeks. I emailed my midwife from Aiven’s pregnancy to ask if I have one of those because as much as I can rationally understand this baby was not meant to be, my heart still really wants the pregnancy to still be viable and thriving.
This wasn’t like my previous chemical pregnancy. I was never emotionally invested in that one because I was spotting the entire, albeit brief, time. But this one I felt good about. And nine weeks into it, you believe.
Two miscarriages in three months is tougher than I could have expected. As I mentioned in earlier posts, I really want Aiven to have a sibling, and I do not have time on my side. I need to have another baby soon. Later is not an option. Read the rest of this entry →