Tuesday, November 15, 2016

A Baguette Baby?

We returned home from France refreshed and renewed.  We looked forward to God bringing us a baby at the right time and sincerely hoped that time would be soon.  

One night, Michael was traveling for work and it was just our dog Ellie and me home for a girls night.  As we sat there watching "Because I Said So" (fun chick flick, if you need one), I realized I was a day late on my period.  I shrugged it off as jet lag from France, but as I tested the next morning, I saw it.  It was positive.  How could it be positive?  We hadn't even thought about getting pregnant while in France?  How could it be?  This was the best miracle ever!  I hustled over to the baby store, bought an adorable baby blanket and had it wrapped up for Michael.

When he came home, I gave him the wrapped present with the information that my hormone levels looked great and we were officially pregnant.  Glee doesn't begin to describe all the feelings we began to feel as we reveled in this blessing.  

The first doctors appointments went well.  I even bumped into my best friend and college roomie at the doctor's office.  She was pregnant, too!  Our babies could be best friends--oh how God's timing was glorious.  I could barely contain my joy.

In each doctors visit, our baby had a heartbeat and everything looked great. We joked that Michael would have to take me to a new European country each time we wanted to get pregnant.  What a life!   We patiently waited for week 12 to arrive so we could share this amazing news with our families.

As we approached the end of 11 weeks, Michael and I went on vacation with my family.  Before we left, we mailed a sonogram photo to Michael's parents as their anniversary present.  They were overjoyed!  We shared the news with my parents at the beach and we all began to share in the joy.   I was trepidatious, given our previous bad luck, but lightening wouldn't strike twice, right?

Well, it did.  On my last night with my family at the beach, I went to the bathroom to find that I was spotting.  I immediately called my doctor and she said it was probably nothing, but it couldn't hurt to head to the ER just to hear the heartbeat and confirm the false alarm.

Given that Michael has already returned to Virginia for a work obligation, Mom took me to the hospital.  As we sat in that cold ultrasound room, the technician was silent.  Whenever the technician is quiet, it usually means bad news. My legs began to tremble uncontrollably.  As they wheeled me back to the hospital room, I hoped against hope that this wasn't happening.

After another hour of waiting (why must the ER docs make you wait?!), the doctors confirmed there was no heartbeat.  I called my doctor in Virginia and she encouraged me to come back to VA immediately so we could discuss my treatment plan.

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