Anxious Days

I don't know exactly when pregnancy went from fun and exciting to utterly terrifying.  I'm sure it has to do with my repeated experience of loss and the familiarity of the holiday season.  It is, after all, the anniversary of my first miscarriage.

Whatever the reason, this pregnancy is characterized by a sense of impending doom.

A few nights ago, alone after putting Elsie down for an early bedtime, I sat down at the computer to answer a friend's email.  Suddenly, I felt something warm in my pants.  The sensation shocked me right out of my seat.  For a brief moment, I wondered if I was the victim of urinary incontinence.  It wasn't a lot of liquid, but enough to gush, warm and wet all the way down my pj pants to my socks.  Blood.

I called the midwife immediately and left a message with the answering service.  I had to wait a little while for my call back.  I filled the time with nervous mental tallies of all my friends and neighbors who could come babysit on short notice and macabre fantasies of late visits to the ER or blood clots and gray tissue slipping into my toilet at home.  I punctuated this self-torture with occasional moments of hope.  We've all heard of those women who bleed through their pregnancies and have healthy babies.  Then there was another gush.

The midwife on call was sympathetic and matter-of-fact.

"We both know this isn't a good sign.  If you get cramping, then you can manage this miscarriage at home.  If the bleeding stops, call back tomorrow morning and ask for an ultrasound."

The cramping never came.  I called Hub and he left his company holiday party immediately, stopping to buy me pads on his way home.  We went to bed, and by morning, the bleeding had stopped.

My mom came with me to the ultrasound.  I know the drill by now.  I immediately recognized a fetus on the screen, and then that fetus jumped.  I cried, just like last time.  We got a good look at everything, first by belly ultrasound, then by pelvic ultrasound, which is much crisper and better-detailed.  The technician was very positive.  A sound heartbeat, an active fetus measuring at 12 weeks, and no obvious source of bleeding.  Bleeding, she explained, can end a pregnancy even if the fetus is healthy.  But my bleeding had stopped.  Time to go home and take it easy.

***

Today was my 12-week midwife appointment with Connie.  I went in cheerful.  Things seem stable.  The ultrasound was good.  My tummy just popped out two days ago, overnight.  I was so sick yesterday that I had to lie on the couch for three hours and could only eat Chinese food.  I love Connie, and I was looking forward to hearing a tiny heartbeat.  Connie poured out her goop and ran the doppler over my belly, and over, and over, and over again, prodding me from every angle.  I heard my own pulse three dozen different ways, but no baby.

"It might not mean anything.  It might just be the angle of your uterus.  But with your history, I don't want you to have to wait two weeks for your next ultrasound.  I'm going to get you in tomorrow."

It might not mean anything.  But I know what it might mean.