Way back before my life was totally interrupted by gallbladders and fainting I started a series about meeting my family. Today I am finally getting back to that series. I left off with the hubby and I unexpectedly finding out we were pregnant, our senior year of college.
After sharing the news with Curt we went home and tried to digest it all. I called and made an appointment with an OB but they did not want to see me until I was at least 8 weeks. We felt bewildered but absolutely humbled by the miracle occurring in my body. I remember one night when I could not sleep Curt and I embraced, sitting up in bed, and tears streamed down our faces. We were so in love and because of that the greatest miracle of all time had begun it’s journey. It was so much to wrap our heads around. Fall semester started in a couple weeks so we began to try to mentally prepare ourselves for the flurry of activity we knew was just around the corner.
On the fist day of fall semester I got ready for classes. I remember what I wore that day, a long faded denim skirt and a fitted white polo shirt with bold red, blue, and yellow stripes. I parked my car and began walking towards Olscamp Hall. I ran into friends along the way and stopped to catch up on our summer activities, I told no one about the pregnancy, I did not want to jinx it. As I stepped into the building I felt a warm sensation and felt I needed to use the bathroom. Once in the bathroom I realized there was blood…everywhere…lots and lots of blood. I called my husband frantically. He calmed me, as he always does, and I realized I was going to have to get myself together and back to the car. As I stood up and looked back in the toilet I saw more blood than I have ever seen at one time. I wadded up some toilet paper and began waddling towards the parking lot. On my way out of the building a professor I had the previous semester stopped me and tried making small talk. I wanted to SCREAM! I muttered something about having a nice summer and being late for class and continued to my car. Curt met me at home and I called my OB (whom I had never met at this point) and he directed me to go to the emergency room. Once there they did an ultrasound and saw the baby still had a heart beat and was still attached high in my uterus. They basically said I may or may not be miscarrying and to go home and take an easy. I missed the first few days of classes but the bleeding stopped and we hoped it was just a scare. I went back to school and eventually I had more bleeding. I visited my OB many times and he checked my hCG levels via two blood draws. He called me at home with the results and flatly stated I had probably miscarried and then hung up. I lay curled in a ball on the bathroom floor sobbing. I realized he was not a very compassionate doctor so I requested an appointment with another doctor at the practice. She was so kind and sweet, she assured me I had not miscarried and she was going to fight with us to save this baby. Finally I reached the second trimester, I was still spotting but it was infrequent and the baby had a strong heartbeat and good position. The doctor told me when I crossed into the second trimester I had less than a 3% chance of miscarriage. She thought I had finally made it over the hump and I allowed myself to believe it too. She didn’t want to see me back for 2 weeks, the longest I had gone between visits. I started to relax over those next couple of weeks. I let my guard down and started to believe this pregnancy might actually result in a baby being born. The next appointment I assured Curt he didn’t need to miss more work and I would be fine by myself since it should just be routine. It was the first appointment he did not come to. During my exam the nurse practitioner was having a hard time finding the heartbeat with the Doppler. She said not to be concerned and took me for an ultrasound. After trying for several minutes to see the heartbeat on the screen she left the room to get the doctor. That’s when I knew. The doctor tried several more minutes to find the heartbeat and she looked at me with the saddest eyes.”My baby is dead, isn’t it?” I asked, she shook her head and said those weren’t the words she was going to use but…yes. I instantly regretted not having Curt there and I felt a surge of tears growing, growing, growing. The doctor helped me into her office and let me sit in her chair at her desk and use her phone. I called Curt and told him I needed him to come get me. I can’t remember if I told him what had happened but either way he knew. Then it hit me. I began sobbing…and sobbing…and sobbing. My chest heaved as I gulped for air between violent sobs and by the time Curt made the 30 minute drive to the office I was exhausted. He cried too, he held me, he was…wonderful…
This all happened on Friday, Monday I had a D&C because the doctor said I was too far along to be able to completely miscarry naturally. As I awoke from anesthesia I felt the finality of the pregnancy being over and again I cried. A nurse walked over and said in the nastiest tone “Ohhh, what are you crying for? Is something wrong?” Is something wrong? Well, I had a baby in me when I was wheeled in the OR and I had an empty womb when I was wheeled out an hour later. Yes, something is wrong.
We were given the opportunity of having a pathology exam of the fetus and we found out it was a little girl. She was tiny and I know not everyone thinks a fetus is a baby but we believe firmly in the sanctity of life from the point of conception and she was our daughter. Our precious daughter, Trinity Elizabeth Hudberg.
And here is the only tangible evidence we have that she ever existed at all: