The first time I was hospitalized for UC, I was 20 years old and they put me on the floor with all the 80 year olds. After they transferred me from the Urgent Care to my room for the week, an on call GI came into my room. He introduced himself and the first thing he said was, "Don't worry, you can still have children." Then, it was a little odd. I had way more things on my mind, although the clarification was comforting.
Sadly, this comforting thought did not last. A few months ago, Eli and I found out some very exciting news: we were pregnant. My flare, at the time, seemed to be getting better. We were so excited about the news, we wanted to tell everyone. We kept it pretty quite for the first couple hours! We started to tell close family and friends just in case something happened.
We went to our first doctor appointment; we had our first ultrasound; we were due on December 15th. After we got the all clear from the doctors, we started telling our families. By week 8 I could hardly get out of bed. I couldn't walk from the parking spot to the front of the doctor's office. I ended up going to the ER for a short black out spell. He assured me the baby was getting all the nutrients before the colitis effected them.
Everyday I imagined what it was going to be like with the baby. I would sing to the baby. I planed our Halloween costumes to accommodate the belly. I really didn't expect to lose the baby.
That morning I woke up. It was the 13th of May. I decided to take a nice warm bath. Just me and the baby and some soft music playing. When I got out of the tub and made my way to the bed, I started to feel horrible cramps. It was not in my intestine, and it wasn't something I ate. I could tell there was something wrong with the baby.
I couldn't call Eli- he was in the woods with a school group and I really didn't want to worry him if it was just a belly ache. I called my sister and she came right over. When we got to the doctor, she examined me and all she could say was, "Yep, she's trying to miscarry." Emily looked at me with tears in her eyes and questions all over her face. She held my hand as the doctor did all she could to clean up. It was over in an instant.
All I can think about is what the doctors told me. They told me I could have children. They told me the baby was strong. They told me the baby was getting what she needed. They were wrong.
I try to talk about the pregnancy factually and lightheartedly, but when I'm alone, I still cry.