"True Blessings"

By Christine

I met my wonderful husband while attending the University of Illinois.  We married in 1994, one month after my graduation.  He still had two years to complete and we wanted to wait to start a family until we were both done.  We were uncertain how long the whole process of conceiving would take because I had my right ovary and tube removed when I was sixteen.   At that time, the doctors said chances were good that my other ovary would function normally but there was also a possibility that what had caused the right one to "fail" would also affect the left one.  Testing would be done only if I started having problems conceiving. 

In June of 1995, I went in for a routine pap.  The nurse who did the pap told me my cervix was inflamed and tender.  She looked at some of the tissue under the microscope and said it didn't look like I had an infection.  The doctor's office called me the next week and said my pap came back unreadable.  They suggested prescribing some antibiotics and testing me again in a year.  I refused and asked to be retested by a doctor.  It was three months before they could fit me in.  The second pap results came back abnormal.  My doctor first did a painful procedure where she pinched off cells to biopsy.  The biopsy showed severe dysplasia and some areas of cancer in situ, cancer at the site of origin.  The area was determined to be too large to freeze or burn so I needed a cone biopsy, an out patient surgery where a large portion of cervical tissue was removed.   I was told that this procedure might cause a condition known as incompetent cervix. At the time, I had no idea what that meant.  I would soon find out. 

At my three month follow up visit in February, my doctor told us that with my history, if we wanted to start a family, sooner was better than later. We started trying to conceive in May.  My husband had accepted a job in Oregon and we were looking forward to starting a new life there.  I took a pregnancy test the day before we moved, May 23,1996, and much to my surprise it was positive.  I had to find a doctor in Oregon quickly.  My new doctor monitored my cervix, by internal exam, every two weeks.  At my 17-week appointment she thought that I was starting to dilate and ordered an ultrasound for the following day.  The ultrasound showed that I had dilated to two centimeters and I was told I would need a cerclage or I would lose the baby.  We went in the next day and had two Mc Donald's, purse string type, stitches placed. My doctor continued to check my cervix by internal exam every two weeks.  The cerclage caused me to have contractions that led to pre-term labor, something I fought with for the rest of the pregnancy.  I was put on Brethine to stop the contractions and Vistaril to help with the shakes, a side effect of Brethine.  I was on strict bed rest for the two weeks following the procedure and modified bed rest for the duration of the pregnancy.  In spite of the medication and bed rest, I was in the hospital four times with contractions that would not stop. I was eventually able to return to work for 25 hours a week.  At 30 weeks, I was funneled to my stitch and the baby's head was right at the stitch.  I somehow hung on and the stitches were removed at 37 weeks.  Sean Michael was born 28 hours later with only two hours of hard labor and 45 minutes of pushing.   The moment I looked in his eyes I was overwhelmed with feelings of love and joy.  Nothing in my life prior to this could have prepared me for what lay ahead. 

We were so in enamored with Sean that we decided to try again in July.  Then on August 23, 1997 I got a phone call that would change my life forever.  Adam, my 20 year old brother, had been killed in a car accident on his way home from work.  As I heard those words spoken, I felt all the air leave my body and I literally fell to my knees. The next week was the hardest week of my life.  In retrospect I don't think I allowed myself to mourn properly.  I returned home from the funeral in Indiana and tried to pretend it didn't happen.  I immersed myself in planning for and conceiving our next child.  I guess I figured that by creating another life it would somehow ease the pain of losing one.  On December 31, 1997 I found out I was pregnant.  We were so excited.  The baby would be due the same week as Adam's birthday.  We called all of our family and friends to tell them the good news.  At eight and a half weeks, Sunday Jan. 18^th, I started to spot and called my OB immediately.  She had me come in on Monday and scheduled an ultrasound for Tuesday.  The exam was normal and my ultrasound showed a tiny little beating heart.  I was told that the chances were very good that everything was OK.  Wednesday, we had to take Sean to the doctor.  Fortunately, he was fine but I started bleeding heavier at the doctor’s office.  When we got home, I stood up to get out of the car and felt something strange.   I rushed to the bathroom and found that what I had feared most had come true. There inside my underwear sat the gestational sac still intact.  Although it was only about the size of a bean, I knew what I saw in the sac was a tiny embryo.   I screamed for my husband.  Somehow, together, we had the presence of mind to place what remained of our child into a bag and take it with us to the hospital. After examining me and the contents of the bag, the doctors told us what we already knew: the little heart that was beating inside of me the day before was no longer there.  The ER doctor told me that this was common and that the chances of it happening again were slim.  I know he was trying to help but at that moment I hated him and just wanted him to take his condescending tone and leave.   We decided to wait two months and then try again.  We conceived on the first try.  We were again delighted and again called family and friends to share our good news.  I was feeling sick and throwing up a lot.  The beta hCG tests showed that my numbers were doubling every two days as normal. All of these things were good signs but I still felt extremely nervous.  My doctor scheduled an ultrasound at seven weeks just to ease my mind. I could tell immediately by the look on the technician's face that something was wrong.  I didn't see a heartbeat and asked if she could.  She tried to dodge the question by telling me she couldn't diagnose but that she would have my doctor call me.  I was in tears by the time I was allowed to dress.  I wanted to find a back door I could sneak out so I didn't have to face my husband and son who were waiting for me in the lobby.  I had once again let them down.  We had a follow up ultrasound the next week that confirmed the findings.  My doctor did a D&C the next day- May 21, 1998.   This was just about the breaking point.  The two miscarriages on top of losing Adam was more than I could take.  At the time I thought I was handling things just fine, but in reality I was becoming withdrawn and depressed.  I kept the shades drawn all the time and I started to shut myself off from family and friends.  I found it increasingly hard to be happy for others who called me with their "good news".  I felt like I was the only one who had ever felt this way.   It seemed as if my family and friends were judging me.  I got so tired of hearing people say, "At least you know you can get pregnant."  I became obsessed with finding out the cause of these miscarriages and getting pregnant again as soon as possible. My doctor felt that there might be immunological cause to these loses and we started tests to determine if that was the case.  However, just as the first tests were being done, I found out I was pregnant again.  I started on a low dose of aspirin, often prescribed by itself or in combination with blood thinner, just to be safe.     

From the beginning, we said that this was the last time we were going to doing this.  I was a nervous wreck from the start.  My poor doctor now had a paranoid basket case for a patient.  Several ultrasounds and blood tests showed everything was going smoothly.  At 12 weeks we scheduled a cerclage for the following week.  However, at my pre-op appointment when they tried to hear the heartbeat via Doppler they couldn’t find it.  My doctor scheduled an ultrasound for that afternoon at 4:00pm.  Those seven hours seemed like a lifetime.  By the time we arrived at my appointment, I was expecting the worst.  Luckily, the ultrasound technician found the heartbeat right away.  I can't remember ever feeling that relieved.   My mother flew out to take care of Sean while I was in the hospital for the cerclage and for the two weeks following when I would be on strict bedrest.  The cerclage placement went smoothly.  Two nights after I returned home, I woke up with contractions and heavy bleeding.  After trying several medications, they were finally able to get the contractions stopped at the hospital and told me that the bleeding was probably from my cervix adjusting to the stitch.  During the next several months, we were in and out of the hospital three different times with contractions and bleeding.  This time they put me on Nifedipine for the contractions.  In addition, I was allowed only "limited activity" for the duration of the pregnancy.   Around 20 weeks, I started having some complications from the Nifedipine, so my doctor switched me back to Brethine and Vistaril.  At around 22 weeks, I had an abnormal discharge.  I am so glad that I called at the first sign of trouble.  Antibiotics quickly cleared up a bacterial infection that could have been life threatening to my baby.  It seemed like I had the longest pregnancy in the world.  On more than one occasion, I was convinced my cerclage had failed and/or my water was leaking only to find out that everything was all right afterall.  At 34 weeks, I was informed that the baby was breech.  We went in for external cephalic version at 36 weeks.  It was pretty uncomfortable but worth it.  At 37 weeks two days, Monday, the cerclage was removed and the waiting began.  The following Tuesday, March 24, at 11:15am, Matthew Ryan graced this world with his presence. When I held him in my arms for the first time I realized that it has all been worth it. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Life often throws obstacles in our way.  We can drive ourselves crazy with the what ifs and whys.  When all is said and done the wondering and the blaming doesn't really get us anywhere.  As I watched hundreds of people file past Adam's casket, I realized that people loved him not because he was rich or famous but because he treated others with kindness and respect.  I hope that I can live that way and that I can instill those values in my children.  The recent losses in my life have taught me to cherish every day that I have with my boys.  Life is a precious gift and I want to enjoy every minute of it.  I thank God that he has blessed us with our two sons and such a wonderful family.