Ronnie met me right away at the nearest computer so we could Google together exactly what “blighted ovum” even meant. I remember reading together and deciding that we wouldn’t tell anyone what was going on until something actually happened.
Those weeks were full of prayers: “God, if you will let me have this baby, I promise to do my best to raise him to love and serve You. I will be the mom You want me to be. You can have him. Just please, please protect this baby. Please let me meet him.”
I was a middle school teacher then, and I couldn’t make it through a class without excusing myself to use the restroom. I didn’t have to go, but the doctor’s words haunted me continuously. I was so stressed about when I would miscarry, that I kept having the sensation I was bleeding. My students must have thought I was crazy. Sometimes I went two or three times during a single class period.
Finally, after about six weeks of nothing happening, Ronnie convinced me to go to my gynecologist’s office for a second opinion, or at least for a little more information on the time frame we could expect for the miscarriage that hadn’t yet happened. He went with me this time. After six weeks of being burdened by such a heavy secret, I was a nervous wreck.
My doctor took me in for another ultrasound as Ronnie held my hand. We were prepared for the worst and afraid to hope for anything more.
The doctor showed us our baby on the monitor, and I’ll never forget what she said – “I don’t know what that doctor was looking at, but your baby looks perfect.”
We put our baby-planning mode into full gear, announcing the pregnancy to everyone except the few family members we had told of the previous doctor’s prognosis. We could finally rejoice in the anticipation of meeting Kendra’s new little brother or sister!
I was teaching in a small private school that did not offer benefits, and Ronnie was self-employed at this time, so I was making due without medical insurance. We met with the manager of the doctor’s office and arranged payment plans to pay for the visits and delivery. My delivery with Kendra was so easy and quick, and we were sure this one would be the same.
We ended up paying quite a bit more than the $3500 we were quoted because my gallbladder and this baby didn’t get along, so I had some tests done to rule out gallstones. Though I didn’t have stones, the entire duration of my pregnancy was a cycle of eating followed by intense pain in my side.
My due date came and went.
The doctor set a date to induce me ten days after my due date.
I spent those ten days trying everything I could to go into labor. Ronnie and I took his Toyota on the bumpiest road he could find. I walked miles a day. I ate anything anyone told me would cause labor. I even drank castor oil.
Ten days later, I was exhausted (at least I had a purged digestive tract!), and rode to the hospital with Ronnie for what I thought would be a straightforward induction and delivery of my second child.
Boy, was I wrong.