I recently suffered from the loss of my little one. Frankly speaking, I'm still suffering from it. That's why I would like to share my experience because I think I'm going to die if I keep this all to myself. So here it goes...
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Last year, I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I was given
treatment for more than 6 months but they only seem to make the situation
worse, so I decided to stop the treatment and just let things be. However,
when I consulted another doctor, I was informed that it would probably be next
to impossible to get pregnant once I reach the age of 25 since I was
already classified under severe PCOS and I rarely, if not at all, ovulated. As I was already 21 then and
wanted more than 4 children, I started to get frustrated.
How can I give my future husband the 12 children he's been relentlessly asking from me?
How can I give my wonderful parents their most awaited grandchildren?
See, it was pretty frustrating.
But then I again decided to, well, just let things be. Besides, it's already beyond my control.
And
then, on January 28, 2013, my period didn't start when it should already have. (I was waiting for it
because I had to drink my medicine every cycle day 2) We were in Cebu
then. I was actually planning to drink beer to induce it, but I was almost always
too sleepy to even have a good time and enjoy Cebu at night. So when we
got back to Manila after a week and I still didn't get my period, I took
a Pregnancy Test and it was negative. Who was I kidding? "I don't ovulate, how can I get pregnant?!", I told myself.
On February 4, 2013, two days after the negative PT, when Mama joked that I might be pregnant because I felt nauseated and I was
already 1 week late (which is usually normal in my case but since I was on
medication at that time, it just wasn't normal), I tried to take another test, just for my peace of
mind. I was surprised and horrified to see that second line. I thought
the test was faulty, so I did another test. And then another. All of those three pregnancy tests had that faint but visible second line. Oh, that magical second line.
My Very First Positive Pregnancy Test (February 4, 2013)
I immediately told my Sister and Mama and
they were all pretty happy and excited about it. When I told Papa, he got mad
at me for a while and I started to think he didn't want my child. After about an hour, he called me back to his room. He was crying
when he hugged me and told me that he loved me and my baby and that we'll make it
through, together. Trust me, it was the most amazing thing in the world.
I went straight to my OB
afterwards and told her what happened. She was surprised. She told me
her hopes were high for me as long as I didn't spot and sent me home. Without giving me pre-natals or
supplements. Without
any "Congratulations!".
So I went home and prayed for two long weeks.
On February
18, 2013, I went in for my first ultrasound. I was told that I had an "H" mole, which I didn't really understand, so I had to go to my OB and ask for an explanation. Well, as usual, she
didn't tell me anything. She just had my blood extracted and asked me to go back
the next day. When I went back to her, she was already handing me the
admitting slip. She told me it was a Molar Pregnancy and that we need to "evacuate" the baby immediately because it could be
harmful for me. I asked for a second opinion but she said it won't
make any difference. She even had me pay 500 for that news. So when I
got to my sister's house, where my whole family was, I begged them to ask
my OB for one last ultrasound and surprisingly, the doctor agreed. I got admitted that night and
got series of lab tests and blood extraction.
When they took me in for an ultrasound the
next day, the 4 doctors who examined me had a different diagnosis. They saw the gestational sac
and they didn't even see any sign of the "H mole".
Well, it was a miracle, just like how I got pregnant.
NO, my tummy wasn't that big. We were just enjoying the moment. Who would have thought it would end so fast?
However, on March 5, 2013, 2
weeks after my last check-up, I started to spot. I went in for another ultrasound out of fear and again, they only saw a gestational sac, which had a really slow growth. Considering my PCOS, I assumed it was normal. I switched to another OB and she explained to me everything. She said women with PCOS rarely ovulate and even if we do, we ovulate late. So I was diagnosed "Threatened Miscarriage" and was put on complete bed rest for the next 2 weeks, which was why I immediately filed for my LOA for one whole year. (It was painful for me to give up my dream of becoming a lawyer soon, but I'd do anything for my little one.)
The spotting stopped for days. On March 14, 2013, I had very light bleeding. I went to the ER at 11PM and they did a pelvic exam, which showed that everything was normal and that I was "safe". They sent me home and asked me to go in for an ultrasound the next day and follow-up with my OB. So I went in to get an ultrasound the next day, and that's when I heard the bad news.
The sac stopped developing when I started spotting.
It was either a blighted ovum or a missed miscarriage.
Either way, I had lost my little one.
Either way, I had lost my little one.
My new OB was kind and explained to me everything. She gave me two options: to wait for another 2 weeks and hope that my body would expel it on its own or to get a D&C right away. I didn't know what to do or say during that very moment because, since my cervix was closed, I assumed my baby wasn't ready to give up on us just yet. So as crazy as it may seem, I talked to my baby and asked him/her for a sign if I should go on with the D&C or not.
I woke up the next morning and saw a tiny red heart-shaped spotting on my undies and I knew right then and there that I had to let go, because my baby couldn't do it on his/her own.
So I went to the hospital at 8AM (March 16, 2013) and booked for a D&C.
They gave me medication and had me wait for 10 hours. They did the procedure at around 7PM.
Imagine the pain I had to go through during those 10 hours. I was literally waiting to bleed out.
When I woke up after the procedure, I was bleeding like crazy, but I didn't mind it. I just cried and cried and cried because I knew my baby's already gone to heaven and it just didn't feel right.
I felt empty.
I WAS EMPTY.
The last time my little one was inside me... :(
I just don't get it... My uterus was expanding. My breasts were sore and tender. My tummy was bloated. I was almost always asleep and tired. I took a complete bed rest for weeks, I even had to give up Law school. I took more than 40 pregnancy tests and all of them were positive. I had all the right pregnancy symptoms at the right time. So tell me, how can something so wrong feel so right?
How can these NOT be perfect? :(
People
might say, "If it's blighted or a missed miscarriage, then there wasn't a baby at all, so why are
you even hurting?" Well, imagine having to enjoy motherhood for 2 months only for
it to be taken away from you even before you got the chance to see your
little one. Even though I never had that memory of jumping out of joy because I saw the heartbeat, I still have the right to lament my loss. A person is still a person, no matter how small. And trust me, even though the state-of-the-art ultrasound machines didn't see him/her, I know and I believe my baby was there. I know better, besides, I was the one holding my baby inside me and not those freaking machines.
S/he would have been born to this world on October 05, 2013.
S/he would have been the perfect little child. :(
Rest in peace, my little angel.
Mama and Daddy and ate Boogie will always love you. :)
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If my baby had lived... What would s/he look like? Would s/he be as hard-working as his grandparents? As strong as his aunts and uncles? As handsome as his father? As sweet as his ate Boogie? What would s/he be in the future? Would s/he be an accountant, a lawyer or a doctor? Or maybe a nurse or a teacher? Will I get mad at him for cutting classes and drinking during class hours? Will I be a protective mother when s/he decides to settle down?
I guess my questions will forever be left unanswered.