Weeks four, five and six of this pregnancy have been by far the most difficult. Upon finding out I was pregnant again, I didn’t immediately freak out. I kept a level head for a few days at least. That was until I started spotting.
Week four was pretty uneventful. I was still wrapping my mind around the fact that I was pregnant. It still hadn’t really sunk in.
It was weird. It was almost like not being pregnant because I still couldn’t believe I really was.
One night in my fifth week, Scott and I finished having dinner. I felt great and was positive about the pregnancy. Until I felt something, ran to the bathroom and wiped to find pink. I lost it. I thought of what happened last time and being told to wait around for two weeks while I spotted; being told that everything was probably fine when I knew it wasn’t.
My first thought was “F*ck this, we’re going straight to the ER.”
And that’s what we did. I just couldn’t not know what was happening. Especially after last time. I absolutely loathe going to the hospital and haven’t done so in years and years. But I was desperate to know what was going on and get some answers.
We got to the hospital around 8:30pm and weren’t released until 1am. I was convinced it was happening again. I hysterically cried in the waiting room until they took pity on me and sent me upstairs for blood work so people wouldn’t keep staring at me.
A woman came in to take my blood who looked all of twelve years-old and had fingernails that were at least two inches long. I immediately knew this wasn’t going to go well. She tried to take blood from one arm but couldn’t get the vein. She tried again – but no blood would come out.
She tried a third time in the other arm, still no blood. Finally she got a colleague, who had to extract blood from a vein in my hand by inserting a needle into the tube and sucking it out. Not only was I in a horrible place emotionally, I’d just been stuck with a needle four times.
Then we were sent to wait for an internal exam – which showed nothing. Then sent to get an ultrasound. Because I was only five weeks, it really couldn’t tell me much anyway.
I left the hospital basically being told that while I didn’t have anything like an ectopic pregnancy, that had no idea why I was spotting. It was too early to tell much of anything.
I felt a little more confident that I was starting to experience morning sickness – which is actually all day sickness. This was so reassuring to me. I was particularly nauseous if I got hungry, but for the most part had mild nausea.
I also became pretty tired this week and had to start taking a nap during the day (something I never do).
Nervous and very stressed!
I tried to remain calm, the spotting was only pink. I tried to take solace in the fact that there was only a minimal amount and it wasn’t red. That is, until I went to the bathroom one day and it was definitely darker. And there was more of it. And it wasn’t just a tiny amount.
All over again, I was a wreck. How could this be happening again? What is wrong with my body? I thought. I was devastated. Scott asked if I wanted to go to the hospital, but we’d just been and I knew they couldn’t tell me anything. Instead, I assumed the worse and had a mini breakdown.
Scott ran me a bath and tried to calm me, but I had those deep, loud, bawling sobs. I could barely walk. I got to the bathroom, collapsed on the floor and screamed into a towel. It hurt so bad emotionally that my body physically hurt. I knew there was nothing I could do but wait.
Even though I planned to work with a midwife group, they wouldn’t see me until I was further along. I decided to make an appointment with the OBGYN office at the hospital I went to. I was just hoping they could give me some answers and run some tests, so I scheduled to meet with them – though I had no intention of actually working with them throughout the pregnancy.
The first appointment wasn’t eventful and to my dismay, they actually didn’t do any tests because I was only six weeks. The doctor just gave me an overview of pregnancy and we chatted about the spotting. She told me to try not to stress about it and that was that.
It was mid-April by this point. Scott works in the music and financial industry so this was the busiest time for him. He was incredibly stressed out for the month of March doing royalty statements for bands – on top of tax season. I booked us a two day getaway at nearby beach to chill out recharge.
I so badly just wanted to get away and relax. I was so stressed and I knew it wasn’t good for the baby. Turns out I was about to be even more stressed.
Yes, even more drama!
The first night we were at the beach, we went to one of our favorite restaurants. We had a leisurely dinner, hung out and chatted. It was just what I needed. I kind of had to pee during dinner, but the restaurant was crowded and small and I was uncomfortable in the dress I was wearing, so I decided to wait until we got back to the hotel to go.
Once we got back, I felt like I was breaking all over again. There was distinct dark, red blood in my underwear. Pink is one thing, but red blood is not a good sign. I’d been through this before. I knew this.
I wasn’t as hysterical this time, as I wasn’t at home. Partially because I felt so broken already, and partially because we were in an 1800s inn – the whole dang place would have heard me.
Scott, my ever upbeat and positive husband knew that red blood wasn’t good. He had been so cheery and optimistic with the spotting before, and this time I was thankful he was acknowledging what was happening. He had been through it with me when I miscarried. He was by my side for everything. He knew this wasn’t good.
Once again, he drew me a bath while we discussed our options. Home was three hours away, it was 10pm and I was tired, emotionally, physically, mentally. I told him if anything was going to happen, it was going to happen at that inn. I couldn’t bring myself to go anywhere. I cried silently, he held my hand and I prepared myself for the worst.
I cried myself to sleep.
We woke up expecting to find more blood. Instead we found nothing. I felt fine. No cramps. I was cautiously optimistic. We walked around the beach, shopped and ate at our favorite spots while I tried to relax. Still, there was no more blood. And oddly enough, this was the last time I spotted. It hasn’t happened again since. I didn’t know that at the time, however.
So I booked another appointment at the OBGYN. I got an internal ultrasound – where we heard the heartbeat at six weeks! It’s still early at six weeks to hear the heartbeat, so I wasn’t sure if we would. Once we did, I immediately cried. I can’t even tell you the relief I felt. There are no words and I am forever grateful.
After that, I got the most painful internal exam of my life. Ladies – you know when you go to the gyno and they insert the speculum and it’s definitely uncomfortable but not painful? Well, this was a first time having a man do this. He inserted it as quickly as possible, opened it as quickly as possible and was incredibly agressive. I was shocked, out of all the doctors i met, I liked him the best. But he was insanely terrible at internal exams.
The good news is that he found the cause of the spotting: a polyp on my cervix. A benign growth of tissue that won’t harm the baby or cause any issues. All of that, all of that drama, that entire emotional rollercoaster, my breakdowns, the hysterical crying, the pain so deep I could feel it physically – finally there was a normal, safe reason for it. I couldn’t have been happier.
Increasing nausea, but no vomiting (yet).
Still pretty stressed and hoping everything would be okay. Early pregnancy is hard!