The Story Of Baby Lane 2000

by Nancy Lane

Date: Sun, 14 Nov 1999

My periods have been irregular for quite some time now, so I didn't think anything of it when I didn't have one in September, after all I didn't have one in July either. When my breasts started getting sore in early October, I just assumed that I was getting ready to have my period. My breasts stayed sore and alas no period had arrived.

I went to the store one day after I dropped my husband off at work. I browsed throughout the wide selection of at home tests that the store had and remembered the phrase, "you get what you paid for". So, I opted for the higher priced name brand test and I was on my way home.

I remember that I held my bladder as long as I could so that there would be a higher concentration of hormone in my urine. As I sat down to take the test, I thought to myself, I don't know why you waste your money on these. Every time you think that you are pregnant they come out with a negative result. Well there was no taking it back now. I peeled opened the package and followed the directions. I sat there and watched as the test went to work. I watched the urine pass through the window on the test. I couldn't believe it. There before my eyes was a + sign. I was pregnant! My eyes began to swell with tears, not because I was upset at the thought of having another baby, but because I was so damn happy. It had been 7 years since our youngest child was born and we just assumed because of my irregular periods, that we couldn't get pregnant. Boy, were we wrong!

My husband and I have 2 children. The oldest is 9 and the youngest is 7. Both girls, or should I say young ladies. I just knew that this was going to be the baby boy that I had wanted to have for so long. You see, my parents had only one son and three girls. They lost my older brother when he was just 19 in a car accident. I always thought it would be great if I could give them a grandson. After all they have 4 granddaughters. Anyway, that's a different story.

It was about 2 weeks after I found out that I was pregnant, when I finally made my first doctors appointment. That was October 22nd. I answered all the doctor's questions about previous pregnancies, family illnesses, etc., but when she inquired about my last period (remember, they had been irregular), I had to guess. Apparently it was a bad guess, because she had calculated me to be just over 10 weeks and she grew concerned when she couldn't find the heartbeat using the Doppler. So, she sent me to have an ultrasound.

Of course, they had to 'work me in', so I spent nearly an hour waiting before they finally called me back. They escorted me to the ultrasound room, where I found my way up on the paper-covered table. I pulled up my shirt and exposed my non-showing stomach. She applied the cold gel and went to work. My eyes were immediately drawn to the screen. Soon the picture appeared. There was my little 'peapod'! She measured the baby and pointed out the little beating heart. My eyes filled with tears and she told me that I was 8 weeks and 2 days along. That was why the doctor couldn't pick up the heartbeat. As she told me that everything looked great, I breathed a sigh of relief. She printed me out my first ultrasound picture and I rushed off to show my awaiting husband.

My pregnancy was going great. I would often comment to my family and co-workers that I was enjoying this pregnancy so much. I was taking my prenatal vitamins as directed, something that I admittedly did not do with the girls. I was exercising lightly like I had seen in so many pregnancy magazines. I was eating well and my morning sickness had all but vanished, practically overnight. I was having the best pregnancy ever, or so I thought.

On Monday, November 8th, I went out to eat with my husband, our girls and my mother-in-law. I excused myself to go use the restroom. When I wiped I caught a glance at the toilet paper and noticed that there was a light pink color to it. I looked into the toilet and didn't see anything, so I really didn't think too much of it. After lunch we went and did a little light shopping. Again, I had to use the restroom, one of the many joys of pregnancy, I though to myself. While in the bathroom, I discovered the same situation. Now I was getting worried. My husband, who knows me better than anyone else on earth, could tell immediately that something was wrong. I hadn't attended on telling him until we got home, but he insisted. So, I told him that it looked as if I was bleeding. He said not to worry, that he remembered I had the same thing happen with our youngest. I, however, remembered no such thing.

As soon as we arrived home, I was on the phone to the doctor. Something that you must understand is that I'm a very, overly paranoid person. My mind automatically jumps to the worst possible scenario. The nurse reassured me that light spotting is very common in the first trimester of pregnancy, not to worry. However, if the bleeding were to get heavier or if I started to cramp, I needed to call right away. I hung up the phone a very relieved individual. It had seemed that I had overreacted again. The bleeding seemed to stop shortly after the phone call.

The next morning, I got up to take the girls to school. When I used the bathroom, there it was again. Light pink blood stained the toilet paper. There was nothing in the toilet or my underpants, but here was that light pink blood. I bleed like that off and on all day. To reassure myself, I repeated in my mind what the nurse had said. This was normal, even my book said it was.

The next day was my eldest daughter's birthday. She had turned 9. Next year, I thought, we'll have one more smiling face at her party. I took it easy that day. I noticed that it looked like I was begging to stop bleeding. I was relieved to see that, but just to be on the safe side, I made a doctor's appointment. The nurse, once again, was very reassuring and I felt much better after speaking to her. As I was laying down to go to sleep, I felt a short lived pain in my side. It must be gas I thought and off to sleep I went.

The next day I found myself disrobed and waiting for the doctor. This was one week and one day before my next scheduled appointment. I wondered whether or not I would still have to keep that appointment since I was being seen today. My thoughts were interrupted when the doctor entered the room. He told me not to worry too much, that his wife had done the same thing throughout her first pregnancy.

As he pressed on me while he examined me, he seemed concerned that I was sensitive. He checked my cervix, undoubtedly to see if I was dilating. He never said, but I could tell by he face that this wasn't good. He ordered an ultrasound, but he wanted to try to get the heartbeat with the Doppler. As I lay there silently, intensively listening to the sounds in my womb, my hopes were high when I heard a slight heartbeat. Then they were quickly dashed when he informed me that was only my heartbeat. He said to keep my chin high, to hope for the best. How ridiculous, of course I'm going to hope for the best.

Once again, they had to 'work me in' for a sneak peek. As I sat in the waiting room, I clutched hold of The Holy Bible, that was laying in the pile of magazines. I held it as if holding on for dear life. I held it and prayed. Trying to bargain with God. If he made this baby okay, I would do nothing but good deeds from now on. Please God, Please. You have my brother , you don't need my baby too. How did I find myself in this situation? I had 2 wonderful pregnancies, trouble free. I expected nothing different this time around. I didn't have to wait as long this time. I had to force myself to release the Bible from the vice that I had on it.

I had found myself on the same table as I had been on just three short weeks ago. I was hoping that once again I would get to see the same healthy heartbeat that I saw before. She ran the instrument over my stomach, and intensively stared at the screen. She said nothing to me. Finally, she broke the silence when she asked me to disrobe so that she could do the ultrasound vaginally. As I stripped in the restroom, I felt my heart beginning to crush. Please God, Please. I returned to the table and she inserted the instrument into my vagina. I stared at the screen, I didn't really want to look, but I couldn't take my eyes off it. She said that there was my baby, but there was no heartbeat. What, I thought in my mind, no heartbeat? How could this be? She then measured my baby, 8 weeks and 5 days. He just stopped growing and his heart just stopped beating. Only 3 days after my last doctors appointment? The nurse began to give some speech, I'm sure that she had given many times before, about nature and chromosomes. I wasn't listening I just kept thinking, what happened in those three days? What did I do wrong? I went over it and over it my head. How could I have been caring around my dead baby for 3 weeks and not have even known it?

I had to speak with the doctor before I could go home. I had to wait in his office for him. Pictures of newborn babies, all beautiful and pink, adorned his four walls. Healthy babies that he undoubtedly delivered. All I could do was sit there weeping for my child. I just wanted this all to be a dream, a bad, bad dream. I was so healthy. I did everything they tell you to do and none of the things they tell you not to do. What went wrong? We have 2 children, I know our chromosomes are compatible. I wished my husband were there with me. I felt so alone.

The doctor came in solemn face to inform me how sorry he was. that sometimes nature selects this for reasons unknown. None of this made be feel better. He went on to inform me about my choices. I could either pass this baby naturally at home or I could have a d-n-c. He said that I didn't have to decide right away, that they wouldn't do anything over the weekend. I just wanted to get out of there, to go home and be with my husband.

I just cried all the way home. I wondered how I was going to tell my husband. Turns out I didn't have to. He knew as soon as he saw me. I just feel into his ever comforting arms. He held me and we cried and cried. This was just not fair. He was really a Godsend. He made all the phone calls for me. I just couldn't bear to talk to anyone much less mutter the word miscarriage. He is really doing a wonderful job taking care of me and my needs especially since he is dealing with the loss of his child as well.

My cramping and bleeding had gotten so bad over the past couple of days that I decided I would call first thing Monday morning to schedule the DnC. However, early this morning(11/13/99) I awoke to find that it looked like my water, what there was of it, had broke. My husband had just gotten home from work and the girls were asleep. I got up to go to the bathroom when I felt this weird sensation. To describe it now I would says it felt as if I were defecating out the wrong place. I ran but didn't make it. It came falling out on the hallway rug. My husband dutifully rolled up the rug and threw it out, so that would not upset me even more. Then he came to comfort me. I felt just horrible. I had just passed our child. It feels so unreal.

Someone once said that God doesn't give us what we can't handle, and that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger. I hope that this rings true in our family, because we aren't feeling so strong now.