The Beginning

It all started in October of 2002.

One Sunday afternoon I took a pregnancy test as a precautionary measure before resuming my birth control pills after a 2 month hiatus. During these 2 months my DH and I had not done anything to prevent a pregnancy, but we also hadn't "tried" either. We decided that whatever happened was meant to be. So, while my DH was out of the apartment for a short time, I took a HPT that I knew would be negative since I had had my period already and was actually still spotting. So I'm sure you can imagine my shock when a positive sign IMMEDIATELY appeared on the stick. I didn't know what to think. I mean, as long as I can remember I've wanted children, so there was some excitement, but mostly I was just completely flabbergasted. That was nothing compared to what happened when my DH came back. He immediately knew something was up, but I couldn't even speak to him. I had to lead him into the bathroom and just point at the stick sitting on the edge of the sink. At first he didn't know what he was looking at. I think that was just denial. When he realized all he could do was let his mouth hang open. We spent the rest of the day in shock, which for me transformed into excitement after a short while.

The following day I went to the doctor for confirmation. Sure enough I was pregnant. But what about the continued bleeding/spotting? Well, they sent me for a quantitative blood test and scheduled an ultrasound and another blood test several days later. The ultrasound did not go well. They could find nothing in my uterus. When they received the second blood test results my hCG levels had decreased since the previous test. Their conclusion was that I had miscarried. I was devastated. In the 10 short days or so since the initial HPT I had fallen in love with being pregnant and the idea of having a baby 9 months later. Losing this pregnancy was, by far, the worst thing that had ever happened to me. Little did I know what lie ahead.