Before the appointment came, we found that we were pregnant. Ecstatically, I cancelled the appointment and scheduled a pregnancy appointment instead. Before that appointment, I had a back spasm and had my husband call the nurse line. Since I was pregnant, they recommended going the ER.
They did a vaginal ultrasound and the tech asked how far along I was. She said the baby was definitely not 12 weeks old. Then we waited for a radiologist to come in. He told us that there was no heartbeat and that it was not alive. Then we tried to get pregnant again. We scheduled an infertility appointment. I had a full round of testing, and they decided on artificial insemination AI. Luckily, I could schedule all of the ultrasounds in the afternoons after work and the inseminations early in the morning before work.
After several rounds of AI—which also includes vaginal ultrasounds measuring the growth of the egg, injections from my husband, and medication—I was pregnant. Because I was 34, they decided to treat it as a high-risk pregnancy and did the first ultrasound at eight weeks.
There was a heartbeat! Then at work one day, when I was 13 weeks pregnant, I started cramping a bit and spotting. I went home after school and called my OB. They said that I was probably having a miscarriage and there was nothing they could do.
Throughout the night I cramped and bled quite heavily and then felt a lump pass into the toilet. I had been crying off and on all night, but that completely undid me, since I knew that was my baby. I had kept in contact with the doctor on call throughout the night.
By the time we got there, there was nothing left in me to test. I spent the car ride home and the next day vomiting from it. Then I spent another two days in bed sleeping and crying. Eventually, life went on. We decided to try again. Luckily, I could have the first clinic fax the testing information and we could begin right away.
It was the same, except that this clinic inseminated twice each month, the planned day and the next day, just in case. I had several instances of being late, then having a heavy period.
They determined that those were extremely early miscarriages. They had to be kept refrigerated and used twice a day. I became pregnant and my son is now 14 years old. I have had a miscarriage. I was on birth control, always used condoms, etc. Which was fine then and is still fine now. A miscarriage now … well, that would probably break me.
Until that baby is in your arms, all you can do is hope. My husband and I are trying to conceive right now. We have hoped and prayed and researched. We have talked about our possible child with love and affection. So yes, if I got pregnant now and had a miscarriage at six weeks, I would be devastated. Her story illustrates the gray area that often forms between abortion and miscarriage:. My views on abortion have always been pro-choice.
However, when I actually had to live through the experience myself, I was torn. And to be honest, even when I talk about my second pregnancy now, I still refer to what happened as a miscarriage. It was fall of I was 23 years, married to my husband for two years, and had a beautiful one-year-old daughter. We wanted a big family and were excited when I found out I was pregnant again. I was a high-risk pregnancy with my daughter so it was no surprise that that I was sent to perinatologist.
That first visit with her would forever change my life. It was me, my husband and daughter in the room so excited to have her see her new little sibling. I was confused. A few moment later the doctor came in and resumed the ultrasound. Then she told us: the baby has anencephaly. She stated that this condition was fatal and that if I carried the baby full term, my baby would either be stillborn or only live a few hours or days.
I was heartbroken. In those few moments I felt like a failure. I had failed my child. Somehow I caused this. I was terrified. After speaking with my OB, the decision to end the pregnancy was made. My procedure was schedule for two days later. Walking into that clinic was extremely hard.
I wanted my child. I wanted more than anything for the doctors to be wrong. I sat in a shared room dressed in only a hospital gown, around other women. Listening to them speak was hard. Some of their stories will haunt me forever. I felt alone. The procedure itself took less than 30 mins. Shortly afterwards, I was wheeled out.
My baby was gone; my baby had been taken from me. I went home and cried for days. I made what I thought was the best decision for my family and for myself. I did not want my child to suffer, nor give birth and lose my child moments later. I have come to terms with my decision and am extremely grateful that I had the option to choose. Just about three months later, I became pregnant again. In August the following year I gave birth to healthy, beautiful, identical twin girls.
I love my girls; they are my life. I do, however, think often of my angel baby. I had a pregnancy and miscarriage last fall that brought into focus just how fortunate I am to have access to needed medical care, and reminded me how onerous, humiliating, and hateful anti-choice legislation is for women with unwanted and wanted pregnancies.
I never expected to accidentally get pregnant at 40, but I did. My husband and I were happily but not decidedly child-free, and we had been been discussing whether or not we were content that way when suddenly the decision was no longer theoretical. I knew I was pregnant even before I missed my cycle, even before I tested. I stared dumbly, delightedly at the pee-stick for several minutes then threw it away, then dug it out of the trash, then threw it away again. What should I do? Does one keep these things?
When my husband came home from work I hugged him and told him my news into his neck. He squeezed me tighter. He kissed me, hugged me again. Neither of us expected it, or expected to be so pleased about it. I took another test: positive.
The doctor was warm but neutral with me when he realized it was not a planned pregnancy. He asked me if I wanted to be pregnant. I told him I worried about my age. I had taken Advil last week, drank too much at a Halloween party the week before.
Your insurance will pay for this, whatever you need. Pro-choice doctors, good health insurance, easy access to whatever health care I needed—either to continue a pregnancy or not. Every woman should have this. My husband and I decided to continue the pregnancy. However, at 5.
I wondered: was that a miscarriage? My doctor advised blood work and an ultrasound because there was a chance, though small, that it was a good pregnancy. The ultrasound was unexpectedly uncomfortable, even painful at times.
This was no jelly-on-the-belly deal. As most women and few men especially old guys making laws realize, early pregnancy ultrasounds are internal. A long, hard plastic probe is inserted into the vagina, moved around in every possible way, rummaging your innards, for 20 minutes or more, when your bladder is full. The results were inconclusive. Two weeks, six rounds of blood testing, and another awful sonogram later, neither the pregnancy nor the miscarriage was progressing.
I went back to work the next day. No sweat. But I was so grateful for the care I got, and heartsick for women who are forced to continue unwanted or non-viable pregnancies, or who are investigated for their miscarriages and stillbirths. I thought about how different my experience could have been in another state, another town, with different insurance, with a few weeks more into the pregnancy, or with an unwanted pregnancy. Six years ago, I had three early miscarriages, each one more devastating than the last.
We chose to continue our family-building efforts via adoption instead. Although I initially guarded my miscarriages as painful secrets, I became increasingly outspoken regarding the psychological toll of miscarriage, the dearth of medical research, and, especially, the politicization of pregnancy. This next reader provides some helpful background on such proposed bills.
But first she recounts her own personal experience:. Thanks for paying attention to this issue. The doctor identifies two fetuses, and the woman is told she is having twins. When the woman returns for her next visit, only one heartbeat can be heard with a Doppler. A second ultrasound is conducted, and only one fetus is observed.
Additionally, some women may have symptoms that would indicate a miscarriage, although an ultrasound reveals a single baby in the uterus. Vanishing twin syndrome has been diagnosed more frequently since the use of ultrasonography in early pregnancy. In most cases, the cause of vanishing twin syndrome is unknown. Abnormalities that result in the vanishing twin appear to be present from early in development rather than from a sudden occurrence. Improper cord implantation may also be a cause.
If the loss occurs within the first trimester, neither the remaining fetus nor the mother generally has clinical signs or symptoms. The prognosis of the surviving twin is usually excellent, but this depends on the factors that contributed to the death of the other twin. If the twin dies in the second or third trimester , there are increased risks to the surviving fetus, including a higher rate of cerebral palsy. This results in the flattening of the deceased twin from the pressure of the surviving twin.
At delivery, the deceased fetus may be identified as fetus compressus compressed enough to be noticed or as fetus papyraceous flattened remarkably through the loss of fluid and most of the soft tissue.
Research indicates more cases in women over the age of Symptoms usually begin early in the first trimester and include bleeding, uterine cramps, and pelvic pain. No special medical care is necessary with an uncomplicated vanishing twin in the first trimester. Neither the surviving twin nor the mother would require medical treatment. With the loss of a twin in the second or third trimester, your doctors will have more concerns for possible complications arising with your remaining twin.
If you do lose a twin later in your pregnancy, your medical team will work with you and your partner to decide the best course of action to ensure the safety and well-being of your surviving baby. Factors such as how many weeks along you are, what caused one of your twins to die, and the health of your other baby will all be taken into account.
One potential problem for identical twins babies sharing a placenta is twin to twin transfusion syndrome, where abnormal connecting blood vessels in the placenta leaves one baby with a greater volume of blood than the other. It carries a high risk of miscarriage or stillbirth if left undetected and untreated. You can get help and advice from the Twin 2 Twin organisation. Losing a twin at whatever stage of pregnancy, or for whatever reason, will obviously be a very difficult time for you and your partner, and one where you will need lots of support and information.
0コメント