On the day we went to the German Christmas Market with Ben’s parents, I accidentally sat down on a broken bench. The bench looks perfectly fine until you put weight on it. Down I went with wooden bench, and I immediately feared for the embryo I had just learned that morning existed.
I was fine. I was pretty sure the embryo was fine too, but I knew already that it would be a long few weeks waiting for the second trimester.
On December 4th, the day of my expected missed period, I saw blood. I did not feel well. I was at work, and I asked Don, whose office is next door to mine, to walk me to the school clinic. When Don asked me what was wrong, I told him, “I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m pregnant again.”
He responded with an “Oh.”
Even in that moment, it was kind of funny to me. I imagined this would be a common response when sharing news of my pregnancy with people who knew the first time had not worked out as I had hoped. I hoped to remain pregnant long enough to worry about breaking the news to a large audience. After arriving at the clinic, the doctor said that this situation was beyond what they could do at a school clinic and suggested I go immediately to the hospital.
I called Ben and told him the situation. I suggested we go to Kunshan’s Number One People’s Hospital, but he suggested that we go back to Kowloon, where I had had my miscarriage. I didn’t want to go there. I could hear the doctor already saying, “We told you to wait three cycles before trying again.” However, at Kowloon, I would be able to see a doctor right away, and Ben could go into the doctor’s office with me. If I went to Kunshan People’s Hospital, I would have to get a number, if it was still possible at that time of day, and I would have to talk about my pregnancy in front of a bunch of women I did not know. So, I agreed with Ben that Kowloon was our best option on short notice.
When I saw the general practitioner (GP) at Kowloon, he ordered a blood test. The result would not come out until the next day. However, he was already grim at the news of my pregnancy. He said, “It’s too fast. Usually, you want to wait a year.”
“A year?” I asked with some incredulity.
He revised by saying, “At least six months.” Internally, I thought that was ridiculous. Even the gynecologists at Kowloon had only told us to wait three cycles before trying. Of course, I had not listened to them either. However, the fact that this doctor was practically predicting another miscarriage made me confident that I would not return to this hospital for follow-up on this pregnancy. Here, I would not be able to talk to an obstetrician (OB) until I was already 8 weeks pregnant. Given my medical history, I wanted more guidance and support before that.
The GP called the next day to report my HCG levels did in fact indicate I was pregnant. No surprises there. He told me to return in another week. I agreed, knowing I would not.
I instead contacted Shanghai East International Medical Center (SEIMC). Even though I would have a 20% co-pay because this was considered a “luxury” hospital, they were offering the level of care I wanted. I went for a tour of the hospital at 5 weeks pregnant, and I was offered a complimentary consultation with an OB. In the week since my missed period, I had had no more bleeding, but I told her my medical history. I told her about the spotting I experienced the day of my missed period. She asked me if I wanted to do another blood test to check if my HCG was increasing as it should. I said that I did.
Two days later, she called to report that the numbers looked good. In fact, compared to my numbers from the first pregnancy, my HCG levels were down right encouraging.
So, as I was getting ready to go to a co-birthday party dinner with Nikki, a friend whose birthday is two days before mine, I was hopeful that the moisture I had just felt leave my body was not blood. When you are pregnant, you will have all sorts of cervical mucus (CM) I had heard. I was hoping this was just a gush of that.
But it wasn’t.
When I saw the light-pink blood, I was immediately heartbroken but aware enough to put on a pad. I needed to see how much blood I was losing in order to determine if I needed to go to the hospital. What I had lost thus far was beyond “spotting.” Even so, I went to my birthday dinner as planned and made several bathroom breaks throughout the dinner to determine how much and how quickly I was bleeding.
I was amazed by my ability to maintain calm and appear at least moderately upbeat. Only Ben, who was aware of the pregnancy and the bleeding, knew that anything was wrong. Nikki, an excellent cook and pastry chef made a delicious cake, but I could only eat so much of my slice. I desperately wanted candles so I could make a wish. Please don’t let me miscarry. Please don’t let me miscarry. Please not again. I want a healthy baby in August, please. I was only 5 weeks and 5 days (5w+5d) at this point, and it seemed the joy was already at an end.
I normally try not to plead, not with God, not with Mother Nature, not with my body. I knew the world gave you certain cards, and you had to play the hand you were dealt. You could wish all you want for that Ace, but sometimes you didn’t get it. It wasn’t unfair. It was just the game, the luck of the draw.
Nevertheless, I pleaded.
Despite all the pleading and worrying going on inside I was still able to come back to the present moment a few times. I was able to think about the wonder and beauty of the people sitting around me, to appreciate the delicious flavors and foods I got to enjoy, and to feel the warmth of being loved, supported, and cared for.
Please don’t let me miscarry. Please don’t let me miscarry. Please hang in there little one.
The next morning there was more CM but this time tinged brown. I messaged the OB I met the previous week at SEIMC. “Dr. Ye, should I go to the hospital?” I had checked a variety of online sources, from forums where women asked the same question to more professional, research-based discussions on the topic of “brown-tinged discharge from the vagina during early pregnancy.” The answers were not surprising. You had a fifty-fifty chance that it was either a perfectly normal part of early pregnancy or the start of a loss.
At this point, I started making promises to an embryo I wasn’t even sure existed. Mommy will be good to you. If you hang in there, I promise I will take good care of you. I love you very much. Daddy and I will take good care of you. I promise. Just come.
Since the first miscarriage, I had not kept up a running dialogue with the embryo. I didn’t want to talk to something that might not be there. I remembered clearly the feeling of betrayal that came with realizing that there was no yolk sac and no embryo the first time. For the 8 weeks of my first pregnancy, I had been talking to an empty gestational sac. I had been talking to myself. It had felt hurt and perhaps irrationally betrayed.
With this pregnancy, I was afraid I would jinx the situation by talking to the embryo. However, that morning I started pleading with it. Please stay with me.
Dr. Ye got back to me and asked me if I could go to the hospital that afternoon. I said I could. I was done with teaching until January, and Ben was able to take the day off after telling his boss the situation. With a clear directive, I finally got out of bed and had breakfast. I then started doing laundry and other small chores to keep my mind busy and help it relax. I’ve always found laundry to be good at calming my nerves.
Halfway through spreading the guest bed with new sheets in preparation for Zain’s arrival, Optimistic Maxi started to surface. She was excited to go to the hospital and have an ultrasound. Maybe I’ll see the baby. Maybe we’ll hear a heartbeat. In November, Realist Maxi had looked at her basal body temperature (BBT) and concluded she had not ovulated. She was wrong. She then was entirely confident on December 1st that she was not pregnant. She was wrong. She was also confident just last week when her BBT dropped that she would miscarry in the next day or two. She was wrong then too.*
Optimistic Maxi was thinking that even with the blood tinged discharge, Realist Maxi need not fear. The baby would be where it’s supposed to be. The heart would beat as it should, and I would fall even more in love than I already had.
And if not, there was always Ben. And Zain would come tomorrow. And even this suffering we would survive because we were survivors, bravely facing the uncertainty and suffering that is a natural part of the human experience.
When we got to the hospital, the doctor wanted to know how much blood I had lost, over what period of time, and what the color looked like. I answered her to the best of my ability as they walked me into the ultrasound room. The doctor said that we would start with a transabdominal ultrasound, and if that did not show anything since I was only 5w+6d at that point, they would do a transvaginal ultrasound.
I did not expect the sonographer to see anything transabdominally, and there was initially just a black void on the screen that Ben would later tell me reminded him of our 8-week ultrasound with pregnancy one. He was disappointed until our little embryo came up on the screen. I was amazed. At only 5w+6d, we could see the embryo bright and clear transabdominally. I did not think that was possible. All my research up until that point suggested that you could not see anything transabdominally until at least 6w+5d, and sometimes not until 9 weeks.
The more amazing thing was that we got to see the little heartbeat. My little one was not only there, but it had a beating heart. Optimistic Maxi was right again! Dr. Ye later told me that it was uncommon to see a heartbeat until at least 50 days; my little embryo was ahead of the pack with an established heartbeat at just 41 days into the pregnancy. Also, the embryo was measuring exactly 5w+6d as it should.
I was overjoyed!
Once there is a heartbeat, the chance of miscarriage drops significantly. However, I knew from the miscarriage groups I had participated in after the first pregnancy that there had been couples like us, who had seen their baby and heard its heartbeat on an ultrasound, only to return a few weeks later and find that their embryo had stopped developing. There was no heartbeat to be found.
I tried not to think about that though. Ben reminded me that the embryo was really the one in control. He was confident this embryo would continue to grow and develop, and in several more months, come out to meet us.
On that day, I chose to believe he was right. I lived in the warmth of seeing a new life forming, seeing a primitive heart breathing, and knowing that Ben and I were blessed to somehow be a part of all of that.
*After getting a positive pregnancy test result, I kept tracking my basal body temperature. It should stay elevated during pregnancy, and a drop could mean a miscarriage is imminent. It could also not mean nothing at all. I took my BBT thermometer to work after scaring myself, and I put it in a drawer I never touch. I have not taken my BBT since.
**The featured image is of the embryo at 5w+6d.
Comments