Remember that Loss, I am 1 in 4 post? After two miscarriages we needed a break. No more trying for awhile. I needed time. Then, my period was late. I attributed it to stress, my lack of a decent sleep, anything, but I couldn’t be pregnant. Wasn’t possible. A few days went by, I finally decided to take a test to prove to myself that I wasn’t pregnant. To be honest we had had sex once. One time. After everything I wasn’t really in the mood much.
That test I took to prove to myself I wasn’t pregnant, you guessed it, it was positive. I was home alone, my husband already at work. I stared in disbelief for a moment. Then my thoughts ran every which way. How? Well I know how but after one time! We weren’t even trying. Why? Why now, why when I had temporarily given up? When will it end this time? How long before I start bleeding? I CAN’T DO THIS AGAIN! I just can’t.
I got my thoughts to slow, sat on the bathroom floor and called my husband. I called him, crying and scared, to tell him I was pregnant, again. Looking back I should have taken that test when he was home. Home to comfort me, home so I wasn’t scared and alone. But I didn’t.
I called the doctor to let them know and they sent me a prescription for progesterone and scheduled an appointment. I dreaded that appointment. I thought about the outcome of what it would be and prepared as much as I could for the worst news. I was wrong, I hadn’t lost the baby.
After each appointment I had hope, then as the past appointment faded and the next approached my hope turned to worry, to stressing that we would get bad news. Each appointment I had an ultrasound. Each time I left happy, but as time passed I dreaded the next appointment.
Once I could feel our baby boy kicking it was easier. I didn’t have to wait until the next appointment to know he was ok. I worried less and finally started to enjoy my pregnancy.