Third time’s a charm . . .

By Terri

My name is Terri and if you're looking for a cerclage success story, you've come to the right place . . .

Way back when I was 18 years old, I got pregnant and my boyfriend (yes, this was an “oopsie”) and we decided to get married.  Well, three weeks before our wedding, I had a miscarriage.  I was eleven weeks pregnant.  Was I sad?  Sure, but I was assured that most women experience a miscarriage at some point in their lives.  The doctors told me I should have no problems with any future pregnancies.  HA!

Well, Rich and did get married in 1988.  We both wanted children right away.  I had just turned 19 and Rich was 32.  I wanted to be a young mother and Rich didn't want to be an “old” father . . . so we tried (as only newlyweds can try -- LOL) for a year.  When I failed to get pregnant, we finally consulted an infertility specialist who ran a whole bunch of tests -- to make a long story short, the doctor told me that I wasn't ovulating (I’d go months without a period), so he first had to give me a drug to bring on my period, then he prescribed Clomid which was to be taken on days 5 - 9 of my cycle. 

After ten cycles, we got the great news -- I was pregnant!!!  We were all so excited.  Immediately Rich and I realized we had to buy a house as our basement apartment was no place to bring a baby to.  So we started looking at houses, my family started buying baby things, and all was well in my naive little world.

In my 18th week of pregnancy, we found our house.  The 19th week, our loan was approved and we got our closing date set.  Everything was going exactly as it should -- perfect.

At the start of my 20th week of pregnancy, I was at work.  When I went to the bathroom and wiped myself, I noticed some “mucusy” bloody discharge.  I immediately called my doctors’ office.  The receptionist said the doctor wasn't in yet, so I should go to the hospital “just to be safe”.  When I got to the hospital, they immediately checked me and that was the first time I ever heard the words that would forever change my life -- “incompetent cervix” and “emergency cerclage”.  What?  Huh?

After they explained to me what was happening and what had to be done, I calmed down thinking, “they know what's wrong and they'll fix it -- no problem.”  The cerclage was placed and I was told that “if” I made it to 48 hours, I’d be allowed to go home, on modified bedrest, and continue my pregnancy.  The word “if” stuck in my craw -- what did they mean -- IF?

Well, I made it to 24 hours and was well on my way to 48 hours.  The doctor came to my room and said they'd discharge me the next day.  Then, at 4:00 PM I felt a gush of water.  I immediately rang for the nurse who tested the fluid, and it was, indeed, amniotic fluid.  My water had broke.  The cerclage had to come out and my baby would be born -- too soon -- he was only 20 weeks gestation.  After six hours of labor, my son, Adam Richard, was born and died on October 4, 1990.  He was so perfectly formed and so tiny.  Too tiny.  He never drew a breath.  Rich and I got to hold him and say our good-byes.  He's buried at a cemetery near our house.

After the miscarriage, the infertility treatments, and now this -- I couldn't bear to even THINK of trying to get pregnant again.  I threw myself into work and found every excuse not to start infertility treatments again when, finally, 8 years after losing Adam, Rich (who had just turned 42) and I agreed it was time to try again.  I set a time limit of one year.  Whatever happened in one year, good or bad, we accept it.

So, off to the OB/GYN I went.  I hadn't had a pap test since I’d had Adam (yes, I know -- bad girl), so I used that as an “excuse” to see the doctor.  I slipped in that we'd like to try to have a baby again and gee, could the doctor prescribe Clomid for me?”.  The doctor agreed to do so. 

The first cycle, he put me on a dose of 3 pills a day on days 5 - 9 of my cycle.  Nothing happened, except that I got my period.  The second cycle, he put me on a dose of 5 pills a day on days 4 - 10 of my cycle.  Guess what??????  I missed my period, was pregnant, and due on January 15, 1999.  Happy, happy, joy, joy.

I was on pins and needles until I reached (and passed) week 11.  At week 8, I had an ultrasound to check on the number of fetuses -- my uterus seemed larger than it should have been.  The good news was that there was only one fetus.  The bad news was that I had a fibroid tumor in my uterus.  The worse news was that the fetus wasn't the size it should have been.  The doctor said that I would probably miscarry within the week.  I was devastated -- again and I waited to miscarry.  The next week, after not having miscarried, I got another ultrasound and got wonderful news -- there was a heartbeat and the baby was growing nicely (there was never a mention of the fibroid tumor again).  I avoided that doctor in the practice of four doctors for the rest of my pregnancy.

The next goal was getting to 14 weeks -- the week the cerclage would be placed.  When the day arrived, I couldn't believe we were at that point.  The day was uneventful and after a week of bedrest, I returned to work with only mild restrictions such as no heavy lifting, not a lot of standing, and no sex.  I wasn't placed on bedrest as many “cerclagers” are.  This made me nervous, but I trusted my doctor (she had a MUCH better bedside manner than the first doctor).

At 25 weeks, my doctor said it was time for me to cut back to part-time at work strictly as a precaution.  I was to use the “off time” as resting time.  The cerclage was holding fine.

At week 27, I went for the one-hour glucose tolerance test.  I failed it.  I had to take the 3-hour GTT and I failed it miserably.  So, from week 28 on, I had insulin-dependent gestational diabetes.  The cerclage was STILL holding fine.

At around week 34, my blood pressure started to climb and I was put on full bedrest.  I couldn't believe it -- I wasn't being put on bedrest because of the cerclage -- it was because of my high blood pressure.  Geesh!  Go figure -- my cervix was still long & strong and the cerclage was holding fine!

At week 37, the cerclage was removed (Thursday, New Year's Eve).  It was a simple, painless procedure which was done in my doctors’ office.  She sent me home with an appointment for Monday, but they expected they'd see me over the weekend. 

Chicago had a MAJOR snowstorm that weekend and everyone was panicked about the fact that I might need to go to the hospital at any time.  My family and friends called constantly, my husband kept the truck full of gas, and the neighbors kept a path snow-blowed from our garage to the alley exit.  I was frustrated because I’d expected to be up & about as soon as the cerclage came out, but because of the high blood pressure, I was on bedrest (although I
cheated much more than I should have).

On Monday, January 4th, I went for my doctors appointment.  I was 2 cm dilated, but they were very concerned about my blood pressure.  My doctor sent me to the hospital to be monitored.  The doctor on call at the hospital decided that my blood pressure was too high and she was inducing labor immediately.

So, while my husband drove home to get my bags and take our dog to my mom’s house, I was moved to a labor & delivery room, given an IV with pitocin, had my water broken, and started having contractions -- we were on our way.  And, to make a long story short, I was only in labor for 9-1/2 hours and only had to push about six times before our son, Matthew Alex was born.

Matthew is perfect in every way.  I am in such awe of nature and man’s ability to use technology to “help” nature a little.  Every day of my pregnancy was a struggle -- I tried so hard to relax and enjoy just being pregnant, but after my losses, I wasn't going to relax until I held my bundle in my arms. . . well, I guess “relax” is a poor choice of words . . . that'll
have to wait ‘till Matthew's a bit older.