The Third Time Wasn't The Charm

In late June/early July of 2006, my husband and I went on a trip to Cancun. Cancun is special to us, because we went there for our honeymoon and absolutely fell in love with everything about it. We actually stay south of the city itself and enjoy the many activities that the region has to offer. This was our third trip and, we thought, our last before having a baby. We had planned the trip back in April as a way to cheer ourselves up. We took the trip around the July 4th holiday because we both had company days off and could maximize our vacation time. We didn't do it on purpose, but as it turned out, we would also be on vacation during our the "critical times" of our first cycle that we could try again.

We had a wonderful and relaxing time on the trip. And got pregnant.

I got a positive at only 9 DPO, just four days after we returned home. It was weird to be pregnant again. I wasn't even really excited at first, mostly just worried. I went in for a beta the next day, which was a Friday, so I had to go in for a doubling test on Sunday and then get both results on Monday morning. Sunday morning, I woke up and had brown spotting. I was upset and my husband tried in vain to comfort me. I thought for sure that the spotting would turn red by that night, but the spotting went away.


On Monday morning, I called for the beta results and. . . they had checked the wrong box on Friday and only gave me a qualitative beta test - pregnant or not pregnant- so we couldn't tell if the HCG had doubled or not. And Sunday's HCG level was only 44. I went in for another draw on Tuesday and waited some of the longest hours of my life.

On Tuesday, I got a call from the nurse who was very pleased to tell me that my beta was at 83. She offered to do a third beta, but I didn't want to go overboard with testing. I hadn't had any more spotting, my beta doubled, and I wanted to believe that everything was okay. The nurse said to call back in ten days, and they would schedule an ultrasound for the six and a half week mark so that we could see the heartbeat. I was so excited that I took my lunch hour to drive to my husband's office. I stopped at Target and bought a little bib that said I LOVE DADDY on it and put in in a bag. I bought a sweet card that talked about what a great father he would be and put in the card that our beta numbers had doubled. I surprised him with the gift and he was as happy as I was.

The ten days went by without issue. I started to feel vaguely nauseous in the evenings if I didn't eat enough dinner. I had a lot of cramping, which worried me, but didn't come with any spotting. I bought a pregnancy journal, started filling out all of the information, and spent a lot of time with my feet up, taking it easy. On the tenth day, I called to schedule the ultrasound for the next week.

My parents were visiting from out of town. By this time, they knew about our miscarriages, but didn't know that we were pregnant again. I had to work that day, but had taken the afternoon off to go the lake with my family. I rushed through my morning and stopped to use the bathroom before heading home. It was there that I saw the dreaded spotting. Trying not to worry too much, but failing miserably, I first called my husband. He didn't answer, so I called my doctor's office. I was put through to the nurse, who told me to come in for another beta. I rushed to the lab.

On the drive there, the cramping started, and once again, I knew there would be no baby. Tears were streaming down my face as I waited in line to give my insurance card at the lab. It got worse when I recognized that the technician who came to the window to help me was the same one who had drawn my blood for my second miscarriage. I didn't want to keep coming here, not for this reason. The technician saw how upset I was and put me in a draw room immediately. She was so sweet and even though the doctor's office hadn't put STAT on the orders, she promised that she would have the test rushed and results back to the doctor within an hour. After she drew my blood, she said, "My name is Marcia, and if there is anything that I can do for you, I want you to come here and ask for me." And then she gave me a hug, and not just a little hug, but a true hug that lasted a long time and made me realize that there are angels among us.

I drove home and my parents had already left for the lake. They left me a note to join them, but I didn't feel like going to the lake. I had already spoken to my husband, who came home early to sit with me while I waited. I was so tired and napped on the couch with the phone in my hand. When the nurse called, she told me that the HCG levels were at a dismal 89. Obviously, I was miscarrying. I sobbed and asked her what would happen, now that this was our third loss. She said that the doctor would see me and this time, order all the tests to check out what was wrong. She scheduled me for a follow up appointment with the doctor in 2 weeks as I sat there, sobbing. I hung up the phone and my husband tried to bring me in for a hug, but I was so angry, I couldn't sit there.

I got up and walked over to the counter where my prenatal vitamins were. I very calmly got out a cutting board and a meat tenderizing hammer. I then took one vitamin at a time from the bottle and smashed it, the little pieces of vitamin flying everywhere. It felt good, so I did it again. My husband tried to stop me after the first two, but I told him that I was going to use the hammer on something, so it should probably be these useless vitamins. He just stood there, watching me. It didn't take very long to smash the entire bottle and when I was finished, I looked around for more things to smash. But my husband finally took the hammer from me and wrapped me in a hug. My sobs echoed in our empty house. I kept asking, "Why me? Why us? Why our babies?"

There were no answers then. And there are no answers now.