Remember in my last post when I said that I didn’t really miss the baby that I just lost a few weeks ago?
There’s a reason for that.
There was no baby.
But there was a pregnancy.
The pathology report from the D&C indicated that there were products of conception, but no fetal parts.
From what I understand, it was just one big chromosomal mess. Sperm met egg and fertilized (or so I think–previous ultrasounds showed a gestational sac and fetal pole, both irregularly shaped) but whatever was supposed to continue to grow and develop did not do so.
At the beginning of the pregnancy, the doctor suspected a molar/partial molar pregnancy which is pretty bad. To put it simply, this is a situation where the “pregnancy” or trophoblastic tissue turns into a disease which could turn into cancer (though this is very rare). The doctor removes it through D&C and your HCG levels are monitored for 6 months to a year to make sure it doesn’t “come back.” During this time you shouldn’t try to conceive because it might be hard to differentiate between a legitimate pregnancy and regrown molar tissue.
Thought I had quite a bit of trophoblastic tissue it was not determined to be molar. This is a huge relief. Sometimes chromosomal abnormalities make it appear molar even though it is not and this is probably what happened to me. As long as my HCG levels go to zero in a few weeks, I should be fine.
The whole thing scared and scares the hell out of me though.
To put it bluntly, I feel like a freak. I was pregnant with products of conception. I can’t believe I’m even posting a phrase like that. It wasn’t a boy. It wasn’t a girl. It was just a bunch of tissue and placenta that gave me the hormones of a normal, healthy pregnant woman. Yep, just a freak show.
In short, it was all a lie.
How does something like this even happen? How does it happen to me? For three years now I’ve been “waiting for normal” and it hasn’t shown up. This is my second miscarriage in 5 months. How the hell does that even happen? I waited two and a half years to just get pregnant for the first time (we know how that turned out). Now, I can get pregnant every few months?
It’s funny–I use to be afraid that I would never get pregnant. Now I am afraid to. I can’t take any more loss. I. Just. Can’t.
The general feeling I get from my doctor and from what I read online is that what happened to me was “just a fluke.” I think people say things like this to be comforting. They tell me things like “Something went wrong early. Something didn’t divide right. It was random. It was just chromosomal. It was a fluke.”
I guess I see it a little differently.
To me, a fluke is stubbing your toe and then tripping over your feet. A fluke is dropping a pencil on the floor and then hitting your head on the table as you go to pick it up.
A fluke is not getting pregnant after one miscarriage just to have another one months later. A fluke is not putting your heart, soul, and every ounce of your being into a dream only to watch it once again disintegrate in ways you never knew were possible. A fluke is not staying up all night because every time you close your eyes you only see abnormal ultrasounds and blood in the toilet.
A fluke is not a miscarriage.
Each day I tell myself, “I can be a normal person. I can go to work. I can pretend I have a normal life. The last few months of my life have not been the disaster that I have imagined them to be.”
It’s not true though. This is my life. This is happening to me and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.