Last night I woke up at 2 am. My underwear was soaked in bright red blood.
That’s it, I thought. I’m losing this baby. I stared at the ceiling all night. I took a shower. I cried.
This morning I called my doctor and went in for bloodwork and an ultrasound. The ultrasound revealed that the baby was still there, measuring on track for 6 weeks and 3 days. It was still situated off to the side. There was a heartbeat present, but it took her a minute to find it and I could barely see it. I remember my first ultrasound with Lettie at 6 weeks and 4 days — I saw a beautiful, strong beating heart immediately. I could see it very clearly. This looked different. It looked sluggish. My doc didn’t tell me how fast it was beating, but when I asked her if it looked slow she said yes, but that the heartbeat often starts out slow. It didn’t look great to me, but I am not a doctor.
The doctor told me she spotted a blood clot in the uterus and that’s what was causing the bleeding. She said I could expect more bleeding in the next few days.
The blood clot on its own does not spell certain doom, but she said that women who bleed in the first trimester are more likely to have a miscarriage. She said, “I’m not going to pretend I’m not concerned. I wish I could tell you what will happen either way, but I can’t. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to wait it out and cross your fingers.”
So I guess we will see. I haven’t really had any more bleeding so far, but my abdomen is sore. I go back on Monday for another scan. My doctor will be on vacation and of course the dreaded Ovarian Overlord will be on duty that day. He’s probably the last person on earth I want to get bad news from, so hopefully there won’t be any.
This baby just keeps getting things stacked against it. I hope he or she is a fighter. But honestly, I am afraid to even hope anymore.
I need a Christmas miracle.