Agnes Faith

This is the fifth post in a series about our babies in heaven, all miscarried in the first trimester. The first four can be found here: Emily Grace, Callie Elizabeth, Luke Daniel, Adam Louis. Thank you for remembering them with me.
***

Every single loss is hard. Each one broke our hearts. It took a while for us to pick up the pieces after we lost our fourth baby. We thought surely, after finding out about the uterine septum and having it removed, we had figured things out and would be bringing home our baby. Instead we had another unfulfilled due date, in February 2006.

After the miscarriage we'd kept ourselves from the doctor visits. We didn't return until February, seven months later, for a consultation. Our doctor gave us a few suggestions that we could look into. It was good to have options, but it definitely felt a lot like grasping at straws. Try seeing a urologist for further sperm testing. Talk to a high-risk pregnancy doctor. Consult with a geneticist. Have lots and lots more blood work. (It's a good thing I'm not afraid of needles.)

My husband saw the urologist and was tested for sperm fragmentation. That turned out fine. No worries there. The high-risk pregnancy doc did some tests and thought we could try using blood thinners with the next pregnancy. My doctor was on board with this and we were willing to try it. The geneticist, after looking over all of our history, determined that she didn't think a healthy, full-term pregnancy was completely out of the question for us. Although we knew these were all just ideas and medical opinions, that was particularly nice to hear since our former OB/GYN would later call me on the phone and tell me that she thought I had a genetic problem that would prevent me from ever having a biological child. Wow. Talk about having the breath knocked out of you. Looking back I realize what an inappropriate opinion that was to give a patient, over the phone, when you aren't even qualified as an infertility specialist. Some days it truly felt like everything was working against us.

We knew the odds didn't look good. But we weren't ready to give up yet. There were many, many days when I thought about it. I felt incredibly weak. I was tired and discouraged, and depressed. It became increasingly harder for me to go anywhere and to face all of the questions about why we didn't have any children and what we were doing about it. Everyone had an opinion, a suggestion, and just the right answer for what we should be doing. They said we weren't thinking positively enough, we were worrying too much, we needed to take a break and relax. They said that this was all happening for a reason and that God wouldn't give me more than I could handle. And I began to hate hearing all of it. All of those words made us feel like we were doing something wrong; like it was my fault that our children couldn't survive in my womb. Or that God was trying to teach me a really hard lesson that I was apparently too dumb or had too little faith to grasp.

And so I started keeping it all inside and sharing as little information as possible with those people I knew didn't really care and were just curious. I stopped going to baby showers because it was just too hard. Even going to church was becoming almost unbearable. While I never turned my back on God, I definitely began to question His plan and wonder why this was happening to us, and why it happens to anyone at all.

Even in this state of mind, though, there was a determination inside of me. The desire to be a mother had grown, moving me forward and helping me to take another step, even if it felt small. I had a husband beside me who never gave up hope and always believed that we would have children. And through all of it, God really was teaching me new things about my weakness and His strength. He was teaching me about waiting and trusting and resting and hoping, and above all, about realizing that I serve a God who is infinitely bigger than my circumstances, my fears, and even infertility and miscarriage.

And so, after a new round of tests that revealed no obvious problem but with a few new options to try, we found out about our fifth pregnancy on July 27, 2006. With this pregnancy I began using daily Lovenox (blood thinner) injections in my stomach. Even with no fear of needles, it was a hard thing for me to get used to at first but became a bit easier as time went on. A blood test confirmed the pregnancy and we were back to waiting and hoping for good news. A few days later things were looking pretty good. The HCG levels were rising and progesterone looked good.

We were feeling confident. So much so that we made the (just over 2 hour) drive to Louisiana to celebrate my mom's birthday on August 6th. On Monday the 7th I went for more lab work. I felt hopeful as I waited to hear more good news, but it was not to be. The call would come later the next day, but before the phone ever rang I already knew. I woke up the morning of August 8, 2006 with cramps and bleeding, knowing I was losing the baby. I had been only about 6 weeks along.

It surprises me today to read what I wrote in my journal in the days after our fifth miscarriage. Somewhere inside I still believed it would happen and knew at that point that we would give it at least one more try. It might sound crazy but we suddenly had the feeling that we were getting closer. At that point it felt like we'd been climbing the mountain for so long that we must be near the top, even though we still couldn't see it. We had to be closer.

We've named this sweet baby Agnes Faith.

I know that Agnes isn't exactly a trendy name these days. While I consider it a classic, it's not one of those that is enjoying a big comeback. It was, however, my great-grandmother's name, and she was truly a treasure. She was the most precious, sweet, kind, gentle, French-speaking old Cajun lady that you could ever imagine, and we all adored her. My mom was particularly close to her grandmother, and Mom was always so pleased to have Granny's name, Agnes, as her middle name.

August 8th, the day I miscarried, was Granny's birthday. She passed away in 1999, but I have so many fond memories of her. There were exactly 101 years separating my Granny and my little Agnes. I'm incredibly honored to name my daughter after her and after my sweet mom as well.

My mom is amazing and has been such a huge supporter and great influence in my life, teaching me about faith and modeling the kind of mother I always hoped to be. When I think of the name Agnes, I have two wonderful and strong women who immediately come to mind. I like to think my sweet little Agnes would have followed in their footsteps.

Her middle name is pretty self-explanatory. Faith. It's something I can't imagine my life without and it's the number one thing that helped me through this struggle. Without my faith in God I don't want to imagine where I'd be today.

Agnes Faith,
Oh sweet girl, your name is very special to us and we love imagining what kind of woman you might have grown up to be. We miss you, sweet one, and love you so much! I can't wait to wrap my arms around you.
Love, Mommy

Adam Louis

This is the fourth of six posts I'm writing about our babies in heaven. Thank you for continuing to remember them with me as we go through the process of naming each of them. They are all loved and missed! You can find the previous three posts here: Emily Grace, Callie Elizabeth, and Luke Daniel.
***

The year 2004 had brought our third miscarriage in three years. It felt like we'd been through so much, but we had no idea what was still to come. Our fourth pregnancy would be one of the most difficult and darkest times we would face. (And I'm sure this post will be a long one as there are a lot more details about this pregnancy. Thanks in advance for sticking with me.)

While we had begun some initial testing, it was at this point that we realized it was time to really investigate what might be going wrong. The first step was exploratory surgery, which we scheduled with our specialist on November 12. During the hysteroscopy, the doctor could not see both of my fallopian tubes at the same time with the scope, suggesting that my uterus had a different shape or an obstruction.

The next step was an MRI and and IVP test, which we scheduled for December 2. The tests came back showing the better of the two scenarios that the doctor suspected -- I had a septum (like a wall) dividing my uterus. She told us it's a congenital deformity and that it was likely to be the cause of my miscarriages, considering it can create concave areas in the uterus, making it difficult for a baby to grow. The really good news was that it could be corrected with outpatient surgery.

I wasn't excited about hearing that news, but it definitely gave us something to hold on to. This could be the answer! Maybe we finally had a REASON, medically speaking. We started 2005 with a renewed hope and on January 21, just a few days before my 28th birthday, I had surgery to remove the uterine septum. The doctor also looked for endometriosis, which she didn't find. We felt like we were in good shape to start trying again after some time to heal. I didn't have a regular cycle until March, and then I decided to have my wisdom teeth pulled in April. After all of that was done we were ready.

The positive pregnancy test came on June 9, 2005. It was the start of a roller coaster of emotions, with the biggest ups and downs we had experienced yet. I had still been using the progesterone and following the routine that I explained in my last post, so on day 30 I took a home test. It was negative. It was my fourth time around, though, and I had a feeling otherwise. Four days later I took another one. Positive. I went that same day for blood work. HCG 1266 and progesterone 41. Great news, they said. Things looked promising.

We went in for the first ultrasound on June 20 but saw only a gestational sac. This did not devastate us. We still felt very positive and thought we needed to give it some more time. When we saw the doctor that day, though, we were surprised (unpleasantly so) to discover two things: first, our regular doctor was gone. She wasn't working there anymore and we did not like this new doctor. Second, the new doctor (whose bedside manner was lacking all sensitivity) abruptly told us that the sac looked too large and the numbers were too high. She didn't think the pregnancy would last.

Folks, I don't need a doctor to coddle me or try to make me think things are okay when they're not. But her delivery was awful. I had more blood drawn and we left feeling frustrated, confused, and lost. We had a real connection with the other doctor and she was gone. We went there that day thinking our baby was okay and left thinking we'd lost another one. The news came that night: my HCG and progesterone were still looking very good. We scheduled another ultrasound. In the meantime, we decided to try calling our other doctor, the one who had left. We felt funny about calling her at home but we were so unsettled and didn't know where else to turn. She answered, and she was totally great about it. Even better, she told us she had moved to an office in Houston and that we could follow her there if it was what we wanted. It was.

We kept the ultrasound appointment that we'd already made (June 27), and we went in praying that we would see a yolk sac this time. We did! We were relieved... until Dr Doom came in to tell us again that it wasn't going to work. I know that a big part of the anger and frustration we felt at that time was out of sheer denial, or refusal to accept more bad news. We weren't doubting the doctor's ability to do her job, but we couldn't understand why she did not seem willing to let us have an ounce of hope. Things WERE progressing, and until they weren't, we were going to have some HOPE. After some persuading, she agreed to do another ultrasound in two weeks.

July 11 finally arrived. We had prayed our hearts out. We'd even decided to tell our church family this time so they could be praying with us. And after all that hoping and all that praying, there it was: a heartbeat. Our baby looked amazing. There was the little head, the body, and the arm and leg buds! The baby was measuring 8 weeks, 2 days, and even the doubting doctor seemed surprised. She said that aside from a bit of a fast heart rate, the baby looked fine. Today as I write this eight years later, I'm looking at the cherished ultrasound pictures, paperclipped in my journal, of that sweet little baby. He was our dream come true. Our hearts were so full of love for that miracle.

After that visit, we made the decision to make our next appointment with the doctor with whom we felt more comfortable. Even if the news was going to be bad, we preferred to hear it from her. We informed the doctor and had our records transferred to the new office. A week later, on July 18, we made the hour-long drive to the see our old doctor. We were excited to have the ultrasound and get another look at our growing baby. And the baby HAD grown, measuring 9 weeks. And there were the chambers of the heart... but the heart wasn't beating. We saw it as plainly as she did. Our doctor was surprised. We were shocked. It had been only a week -- just 7 days -- since we'd seen the heartbeat, and our baby had died.

After we talked to the doctor for a little while, she checked again just to be sure of what we saw. I appreciate that she did that for us, but we knew it was over. It felt like she was giving us a moment to say goodbye as we took one last long look at the screen. She asked me if we wanted her to print a picture and I said yes. I have that picture here with me now, too, that last precious image of our baby. He looks perfect to me, even though I know his heart wasn't beating and his soul was in heaven. It breaks my heart to see it, but I'm grateful to have it.

Every loss is hard. This one was particularly hard for us. We felt more heartbroken than ever. There had been so much hope and so many prayers -- so many of them answered in those 9 weeks. We were learning to trust a God who loves us and cares about us, and who sees the bigger picture and knows all of the answers to our questions.

I'm thankful that we got to spend as much time carrying this child as we did. We got to see him on an ultrasound screen more times than we had with any other pregnancy. We watched him grow and saw that flickering heartbeat, reassuring us that he was here and he was real. He had lived longer than any of our other babies had to date. And I'm thankful that we got to stick with a doctor who was sensitive and considerate of our needs during that time. On the day of the D&C, she invited us to her office to do a final ultrasound so we could be certain. Again, I know she did that just for us. There was no lingering look this time, and she did that for our benefit, too. Even though I know he'd already gone to heaven by then, we said goodbye to our fourth baby on July 22, 2005.

We've named our second son Adam Louis.
Adam is a name I've come to love in recent years. I considered it for Anna if she'd been a boy. The last name Adams is a family name on my mom's side. Louis is my husband's middle name, and had been his paternal grandfather's middle name as well. Of course I love having a son named after both of them, and I also really like that Louis is a French name. It reflects our heritage and is part of our home state, Louisiana's, name, too. Louis means "famous warrior," and we certainly felt that our little guy was a fighter. Our Adam Louis's name was chosen with lots of love and from a long line of family names from both sides of our family.

Adam Louis,
Your daddy and I are so grateful for the time we got to spend with you. We never got to hold you, but we knew you and loved you so much while we prayed and hoped for you for nine weeks. Thank you for giving us that hope and for teaching us to keep holding on, no matter what. You were worth it! We love you and can't wait to see you again one day.
Love, Mommy

Luke Daniel

This is the third post in a series about the six babies we miscarried. Naming these precious ones has been an honor as well as a healing process for us. The previous two posts can be found here: Emily Grace; Callie Elizabeth.
***

In March of 2003 we found ourselves at a crossroads. In less than a year's time we'd had two pregnancies and two miscarriages, both at 11 weeks gestation. Both times we found out that our babies were no longer living when ultrasounds revealed that they appeared to have stopped growing around 7 weeks and their little hearts had stopped beating. We were heartbroken, and now we were scared.

My OB/GYN at the time recommended that we go to a local Center of Reproductive Medicine to have some initial testing done. We talked and prayed about it and decided we had nothing to lose. It was definitely worth a try. Our first appointment there was in August of 2003, and we began with lots and lots blood work and a semen analysis. Our blood work came back pretty normal and hubby's tests were stellar. Because my results showed the MTHFR mutation, I began taking extra folic acid along with my prenatal vitamin and a daily aspirin. We also tested my progesterone and came up with a new plan. Each month I would start taking extra progesterone on cycle day 17 and go in to have blood drawn 4 days later to check the level. I would return for another blood draw on cycle day 31 to check for pregnancy. This continued for several months. It was frustrating to see the days and months pass with no change, but we continued on because at least we felt like we were doing SOMETHING.

After a while when it appeared that my progesterone levels were staying nice and high, I continued using the supplements but didn't go for blood work each and every month. Every few months we'd go in and talk with the doctor to check on things and talk about the plan. We knew there were more aggressive things out there but we felt sure that another pregnancy would come, and we felt good about taking these steps and monitoring things to try to give the baby a better chance. We were stressed. We were nervous. It hadn't taken us this long to get pregnant before but we tried to remain as patient and calm as possible.

More than a year passed before we saw our third positive pregnancy test. It was September 24, 2004, and we were so very hopeful and anxious to find out if things would be different this time. They were different, but not in the way that we'd hoped. My first HCG check on September 27 came back at 349. On October 1 it was 666. We knew these numbers weren't looking good. We checked again on October 5 and it had dropped to 49, and I lost our third baby on October 7, 2004. We'd hardly had much time at all to even let it sink in, just a few short weeks, and just like that it was over at 6 weeks gestation.

We were so sad. So disappointed. In an effort to hide ourselves from the world and try to find some peace in the situation, we quickly planned a getaway to New England, just the two of us. We spent the next week surrounded by beautiful fall foliage, cozy bed and breakfasts, and gorgeous lighthouses on the east coast. It was a wonderful, comforting trip, a place we'd always wanted to go and at just the right time of year. We needed it so badly and we both look back on that time as a very special memory.

I love looking back at the pictures we took on that vacation, but I can still see the sadness on our faces. Of course we realized that there was really no escape from what was happening in our lives -- to us, and to our babies. Immediately after we returned home, I had one final blood draw to confirm the HCG was negative.

We decided to name our baby, our first son, a name that was at the top of our list for favorite boy names: Luke. Luke is a name we always liked. It's a good, strong Biblical name, which is true about every single boy name we've chosen, and true about his middle name, Daniel.

The name Daniel has special meaning for us, since it was my husband's grandfather's name. The name had meant something special to his mother as well. It was after studying the book of Daniel in the Bible that Pop's mother had given her life to Jesus. She said then that if she had another son his name would be Daniel, and she kept that promise. Her Daniel, our "Pop," was one of the most amazing men I've had the privilege to know. He was a missionary, a preacher, a pastor, a carpenter, a WWII veteran, and truly the kindest, gentlest father and grandfather I have ever met. (I wrote a post about him here, after he passed away in 2009.) We certainly looked up to this man of faith, as we do his Biblical namesake. I know he's with Jesus now, just like our sweet little boy.

Luke Daniel,
What a special boy you are to us! We hope you know how loved you are. Part of your name came from a man who was very special to us, too, who lived his life to honor his Savior. We can't wait to see both of you in heaven one day. You were with us for such a short time but are no less loved. We miss you so much.
Love, Mommy

Today

First I have to say a very heartfelt THANK YOU to everyone who left comments on the last post. I know I say it all the time, but you guys are awesome! I love being part of a community of people who are so caring and so supportive. I just can't say thank you enough. I'm telling you, I'm attributing the sense of calm we've had this week to the prayers that I know we've been covered with. It means so much to us.

I won't make you wait too long for the update. I went this morning for more blood work and heard the results around lunch time. It's good news! HCG was up to 1870. (For those who are interested in more specific information, today I'm 20 dpo.) The nurse said that sounded great, and I'm scheduled for our first ultrasound on Monday morning. Monday is my 33rd birthday. I'm really, really hoping it will be a good day, possibly even the best birthday ever.

Although I'm doing my best to focus on one day at a time, I can't help but spend a little bit of time reflecting on where we were exactly 3 years ago today. On January 22, 2007, I had a scheduled D&C after finding out at 10 weeks that our 6th pregnancy was a "blighted ovum." It was 3 days before my 30th birthday. And it was a very dark time for us.

At the end of pregnancy #4 in July of 2005, the fertility specialist we were seeing at the time basically had told us that there was nothing more she could do for us. (It still shocks me to even write that!) We weren't sure where to turn, so we began seeing a high-risk pregnancy doctor in the area (on the recommendation of my regular ob/gyn), who suggested after some testing that we try Lo.venox injections with the next pregnancy. We tried this for pregnancy #5 in July of 2006 to no avail. We were giving the injections another try for pregnancy #6, but with each ultrasound we just weren't seeing enough progress. My HCG levels were great, but at 7 weeks we were still only seeing a yolk sac. We waited another 2 weeks for a final u/s, but there was still no heartbeat. No baby. That was our first time to receive that kind of diagnosis. I realized that as awful as it is to be told that our baby's heart had stopped beating, it was equally devastating to be told that the baby we thought we'd been growing and nourishing for 10 weeks wasn't even there.

We were crushed. And to make matters much worse, my ob/gyn called me at home to tell me that her guess was that I had some sort of genetic problem that would never allow me to have biological children. If I was crushed before, this time I felt like my world had shattered into a billion tiny pieces. I couldn't believe she would call me up at an already vulnerable time to tell me such news on a hunch. Chuck and I were sent into a tailspin. We made an appointment with a genetic counselor, who told us she had no reason to think that we could never have a full-term pregnancy. After such an emotional roller coaster, we made it our mission to find a doctor who would take good care of us. We wanted someone who would take our gigantic stack of medical records and try to make sense out of it all. We wanted someone who was confident and took pride in his work, someone who would be eager to help us find a solution. Fortunately, we found Dr. G in the summer of 2007.

We have come a long way in the past 3 years, at least as far as getting good medical help is concerned. This is our first pregnancy under Dr. G's care and we feel like we are finally in good hands. I know that a doctor ultimately can't make a baby stick, but we truly feel as though we've been given a fresh start. And for now, that's all we can ask for.

I don't think that looking back and remembering where you've been is a bad thing. But as my dear friend reassured me today, this pregnancy is looking good today. Right now with the information we have, there is no reason to be worried. Today is where we are and today is what really matters!

Unexpected

Last month, as far as our fertility was concerned, I felt like we did everything right. The timing seemed perfect. We had our first IUI and were feeling pretty hopeful about our chances. We truly felt like having the IUI procedure would give us just the boost we needed in order to achieve pregnancy again. But it didn't work.

This month nothing worked right. Nothing seemed to come together. We felt stressed, frantic, and disorganized. We thought we were going to have IUI #2, but the timing didn't work out because of the New Year holiday. We were disappointed, frustrated, and feeling pretty negative about the whole thing. Those feelings, combined with being away from home for the holiday week, didn't exactly work in our favor for trying on our own.

Last night my husband and I were sitting in the living room, and with tears in my eyes I told him that sometimes it feels like we're fighting a losing battle.

This morning I awoke to something unexpected. It was a lot like nearly every other month for the past three years, but this time, the home pregnancy test was positive.

Deep breath. Here we go.

I composed myself, whispered a quick prayer (Please God, let this be it), called my husband at work, called the doctor's office, and called my mom. One thing I've learned after six pregnancies that ended too soon is that we don't spend a lot of time celebrating. We immediately kick into action mode. We needed to drive to Houston to get blood work done. I jumped in the shower and Chuck came home so we could go together. We were in and out of the lab in a few minutes and driving back home in the rain. Strangely enough, we've both been relatively calm today. I know that we are both nervous, but we're trying to stay level-headed. My sweet friends who have suffered from recurrent pregnancy loss will understand this. From here we proceed with caution. It's not that we aren't elated to have reached this point. We are! But when you have a long history of loss, you learn to keep your feelings in check.

It is hard to believe that we have been walking this long, arduous road for 9 years. In the first 6 years we had 6 pregnancies end in miscarriage. This week, January 22nd to be exact, is the third anniversary of my last loss. It has been 3 years of waiting and wondering if our time was over, if we'd missed our chance, if it would ever happen for us again. I know that seeing two lines on a pregnancy test is no guarantee that we'll be holding a real live baby in 9 months, but we are taking it for what it is. It's another chance. If there's one thing we know for sure at this point it's that today we are pregnant, and today we have another chance.

When I wrote the last post yesterday with the brief cycle update, I can tell you that I was about 99% sure that it was almost the beginning of a new cycle. I was so touched as all of your sweet comments came in hoping for that positive test. You guys truly amaze me. Thank you for hoping and believing even when I can't quite muster up the strength to do it myself.

Last month we did everything right and it didn't work. This month everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong, but somehow it worked. I don't believe for a second that it's just a coincidence. I think that sometimes God knows that I need reminders that I'm not in control of this situation. He is. He always has been, even when I don't like how it turns out. And even when I think we've seriously messed everything up, even when I'm 99% sure we've failed, He can still come through with His perfect plan and His perfect timing.

I trust the Lord no matter what happens in the next few weeks, but I want you to know that I'm nervous. I'm human, and I have fears and worries galore. We still have a lot of waiting ahead of us and a lot of BIG hurdles. I did get a call back from the nurse today confirming the pregnancy. The lab results looked good: HCG 562, Progesterone 37.2. I'll go back in on Friday morning for more blood work to see if we have progress.

I've often wondered since I started this blog more than a year and a half ago what it would be like to experience a pregnancy with all of you on my team. Sharing this news this early on is so out of character for me! For years we went through these early days and weeks with a small group of family and even fewer friends, but somehow knowing that you're all standing with us and praying for us gives me peace of mind. Thanks so much, precious friends!

Just a few more words and I'll be done for tonight.
First of all, and most importantly, I pray every day for all of my sweet friends who are waiting in one way or another. I will continue to do this for as long as necessary. I'm still standing with all of you and hoping that your wait won't be much longer.

Please pray for us as our new wait continues.

And finally, for those of my real-life friends who read my blog, please, please don't mention this on Facebook or to anyone else just yet. It would mean a lot to us if you would just keep it under your hat for a while. Thank you! We love you guys.

Where We Are Now (May 2008)

Our doctor felt that since we had been able to find and correct some problems with the surgery in January, we should be safe to try again after I recovered. The most surprising thing to us was his simple approach. No shots, no progesterone supplements, no standing on my head (ok, I’d never tried that third one before). Just prenatal vitamins and continue with the baby aspirin and my usual thyroid medication. (I haven’t mentioned that before but I have hypothyroidism. Thyroid problems run in my family so I’ve been on top of it from the beginning.)

It feels like starting all over again but it almost feels good to start from scratch. That’s a weird expression to use here since nothing we do from here on out is from scratch! We have been down a very long road and now that all of that is behind us I can’t pretend it didn’t happen. I’ve hit most of the major points here. If you have read all three parts of My Story let me just say, “Wow.” You deserve a medal, or at the very least, a cookie. (I’d choose a cookie over a medal any day!) I really do appreciate the time it took for you to read it all and share in some way in our story.

So here we are at another crossroad. I’m not sure what will happen next as we try again. I do remain hopeful, which may seem ridiculous to someone who just read all of that. I know it doesn’t make sense. But I believe it can happen. And if doesn’t I’ll be very, very sad but we will be ok. I know that one way or another there are great things to come somewhere down the road.

My Story - Part 3

Pregnancy #4
The next pregnancy was in June of 2005. Feeling very encouraged about having fixed a problem, we were on cloud nine. We were a little nervous, of course, but we felt like this would be The One. My first blood tests looked great – HCG was high and progesterone was good. It was time for what had become for us the dreaded first ultrasound. The ultrasound showed only a gestational sac but we weren’t too terribly worried just yet, especially with the good blood tests. The worst part of the visit was when we discovered that our beloved doctor had moved away since our last visit! We were very sad and to make things worse, we REALLY disliked the other doctor at that office. The new doctor totally squashed our hopes when she said she thought the numbers were too high and the sac looked too large. Even though I loathed her bedside manner, I was sure she was a skilled doctor, so we tried to keep ourselves level-headed and just hear all the facts. We had blood drawn again and a few days later heard that the numbers still looked great. We were so confused.
Now we were dealing with a new problem – finding a new doctor. Not because she gave us bad news, but because our personalities just didn’t click. At all. We had another ultrasound at that office with the hopes of seeing a yolk sac – and we did! But Dr. Doom stepped in and again said not to get our hopes up. She said to come back in two weeks and then we should know for sure. Two weeks later, it was the best ultrasound we’d ever had. The baby measured at a little over 8 weeks and we could see a heartbeat and even tiny little leg buds on the body. The doc had to admit that the baby looked great! We breathed a huge sigh of relief but were still thinking we wanted to change doctors.
After some investigating we found out that our other doctor had simply moved to another practice in the city. We gave her a call and she kindly invited us to visit her at the new office. About a week later we went to see her and she did another ultrasound. I remember it was the toughest day of our whole infertility experience at that time. The baby had grown to 9 weeks but the heart was no longer beating. No one knew why. We had no clue that something had gone wrong. We were devastated. A few days later we had one more ultrasound to be certain that there was no change. It was definitely over, so we scheduled another D&C for July 22, 2005. We felt we were back at square one.
The next few months were filled with more doctors: a high-risk pregnancy doctor, a genetic counselor, our fertility specialist, and even a urologist (to check my husband’s sperm for fragmentation – that didn’t pan out). It was really disheartening to see that our specialist was just about as stumped as we were.
I have to admit at this point that I was very, very frustrated. It made me angry that we had thus far tried everything the doctors could think of and we were continually given the advice, “Try again and see what happens.” That’s extremely hard to hear. I want to keep trying to have a full-term pregnancy, sure, but as I keep trying we keep losing one baby after another. That’s just not ok with me. We are very serious about being cautious and wise about these decisions. We refused to try unless we had made some change that hopefully would work. We’ve never had an “accidental” pregnancy. It’s always very well thought out and planned according to our treatment. When we don’t want to get pregnant, we use protection. Along the way we’ve never been told by a doctor that this just will never work out.

Pregnancy #5
After another full year of tests and doctors and with a new plan we attempted another pregnancy. It came along in July of 2006. I had previously been diagnosed with the MTHFR mutation and had been on extra folic acid along with baby aspirin for years. But the high-risk pregnancy doctor I started seeing suggested that we have tests to check for any blood clotting disorders. After reviewing the tests he thought it was possible that, although my homocysteine level was not unusual, I may have problems related to Thrombophilia, and thought that using the blood thinner Lovenox during pregnancy might help me. I immediately started using the Lovenox injections in my stomach when I found out I was pregnant. It wasn’t a pleasant thing to do every night, but I felt if it worked that it was a small price to pay.
Unfortunately it didn’t seem to help anything. I woke up the morning of August 8 feeling crampy and I had started bleeding. I had blood work just to verify that the numbers were dropping and that was miscarriage #5. It was over pretty quickly as I was just a few weeks along, and I did not have a D&C.

Pregnancy #6
This was my last pregnancy to date and it began in November, 2006. It was really more of the same with the doctors, blood work, and Lovenox injections. The HCG and progesterone levels looked good but the ultrasounds never did. We had a lot of them and although we did see some progression of the gestational sac and yolk sac, we never did see any growth of the baby. After 2 weeks had passed and we could still see no development, we knew that once again it wasn’t going to happen. I had a D&C later that January of 2007, just a few days before my 30th birthday.
That last pregnancy did bring about a few more changes. After a few visits with our trusted specialist where the three of us basically looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders, we realized that maybe it was time to move on. We have no hard feelings toward her but it was just time. I think she was truly out of ideas. We decided to seek out a different doctor. We felt like we had exhausted all of our options locally and decided to find another fertility specialist downtown. We began seeing him in July of 2007 and he has scheduled many tests and a couple of surgeries over the past year.
Here’s a quick rundown:
August 2007: Hysterosalpingogram (HSG) test – another dye test to check that my fallopian tubes are open and to look at the uterus by x-ray.

October 2007: Endometrial Function Test (EFT) – basically a biopsy of cells from the uterine lining. http://www.med.yale.edu/obgyn/kliman/resources/AIA%20vF.pdf
Those samples along with some of the tissue samples from past miscarriages were sent to a doctor at Yale University. The biopsy showed Glandular Developmental Arrest (GDA) but the overall diagnosis did not identify one problem that could be linked to all of my miscarriages. It was a little like getting punched in the stomach. Instead of one problem, we likely have several problems that contribute to recurrent miscarriage. (From what I understand, GDA is a problem where at certain stages of your cycle, the glands in the uterine lining cease to go through their normal changes or development.)

January 2008: Laparoscopy – Our new doctor wanted to do an exploratory laparoscopy. I could understand why. We had transferred hundreds of pages of our medical records to his office with tons of tests and some previous surgeries, all done by other doctors. His main areas of concern were the shape and condition of my uterus after the septum surgery, and the possibility that I may have developed any scar tissue or endometriosis. It did seem like a big deal for me to have yet another surgery just for a big “maybe,” but at the same time I knew that it could help. I was glad after it was over and we got the report. The doctor was able to use a laser to clean up the scar tissue that had formed where the septum had been (basically creating another septum although smaller) and he did in fact find and also clean up some endometriosis. That was a first for me. I had never been diagnosed with it before, but I do know that it can appear later even if it didn’t exist before. The doc definitely seemed pleased that we’d gone ahead with the surgery.

My Story - Part 2

Pregnancy #2
There were very hard times that followed that first experience. I was still nervous about trying again and afraid of what might happen. It was hard to escape the sadness of my situation and the feelings of emptiness and loss. My sister had her second baby boy that December and I got to be in the delivery room for that amazing experience! As thrilled as I was then and as much as I adore that 5-year-old and his big brother today, it was hard not to feel that same old pain.
In February of 2003 I found out I was pregnant for the second time. My fears came true when things progressed much like the first pregnancy. We knew for sure that things weren’t going well when the ultrasound at 11 weeks didn’t look good. This time I scheduled a D&C (in March, 2003) after I started bleeding the next day. I didn’t want the trauma of what had happened to me before. I definitely don’t feel that the surgery is an easy way to handle it. You still have the emotional pain and sadness, and you have to recover physically but for me it did take out the guessing and saved me some physical pain.
Of course, the worst part about miscarriage #2 was that now we realized we might be dealing with a problem. I’d had two very similar first trimesters and it seemed unlikely that it was just a coincidence. In August of 2003 we started seeing a fertility specialist. We live near a big city, but we were glad to find a good place that was just 15 minutes from home in our smaller town. We really liked our doctor and immediately felt a connection with her. My husband and I both had lots and lots of tests run to see if there was anything obvious that might be causing us problems. The tests revealed nothing “bad” – in fact they showed that my husband’s fertility was fantastic. Sure, that’s great news, but it did make me feel… well, crappy. I was pretty sure already that the problem was with me and it was really easy to let the guilt creep in. Fortunately, my husband reassured me that this was our problem and we would get through it together, no matter what any tests showed.

Pregnancy #3
The next year was really hard. It hadn’t taken us long to conceive either time before but now it didn’t happen until a year later, in September 2004. I’d spent the whole year counting cycle days, using progesterone supplements, having blood drawn twice a month, and taking pregnancy tests. This time, however, the pregnancy didn’t advance very far. I was only 6 weeks along and the HCG levels never got very high. I had the miscarriage at home and the next week we decided to go on a vacation. It was definitely time to get away. We spent a wonderful week in New England that October, making good memories in the midst of very difficult times.
After we got home we began talking to our doctor about having exploratory surgery. She thought it would be a good idea to have a look at my uterus and see if I had any kind of “structural” problem. We scheduled a hysteroscopy for that November, and the doctor did find that she could not see both of my fallopian tubes with the scope at the same time. This suggested that my uterus had a different shape than normal, but to be certain she wanted to do an MRI. The two possibilities were either a septum (or division) in my uterus or what was called a bicarnuate uterus. We set up the MRI for the next month, in December, and also did an IVP test – where dye is injected while they watch your kidney function by x-ray. Apparently some women with developmental problems of the uterus may only be born with one kidney, so the point of the IVP was to test my kidney function. My internal organs checked out fine and the MRI showed that I did have a septum, like a wall, dividing my uterus. We actually felt relieved. At last, an answer! The doctor reassured us that it was a fairly easy thing to correct. She was pretty sure that it may be the cause of our miscarriages since the septum creates concave areas in the uterus where it can be difficult for a baby to implant or grow.
(*By the way, I’m writing this based on notes I took in my journal at the time and am not going through the trouble of looking up all the official medical terms. Please excuse me if I’ve muddled it up too much!)
We began 2005 with a renewed hope and I was just sure it would be the year we’d have a baby. In January I had the laparoscopy/hysteroscopy to correct the septum. The doc said everything else looked fine – she didn’t find any signs of endometriosis or any other problem. We were feeling pretty good at that time that after I recovered we would be able to have a healthy pregnancy. I even had my wisdom teeth pulled a little while later so I could take care of that before the baby came along!