My husband and I had decided to “be less careful” in August of 2019. We weren’t ready to officially start trying to conceive, but we felt that we were at a point that “if it happened, it happened”.

In late January of 2020, I went to the bathroom first thing in the morning and noticed something that I hadn’t ever noticed before. After a quick Google search, I learned that it could be a sign of pregnancy. Luckily, I had a pregnancy test on hand so I was able to take one right away. I watched as the test window slowly turned a shade darker, what I thought was my confirmation that enough time had passed. Since only one line appeared, I shrugged and threw it in the trash. To look back and remember a moment in time when I could throw away a negative pregnancy test without the slightest twinge of disappointment blows my mind. A lot has changed since then.

After work that day, I saw the test sitting peacefully on the top of the trash can- there was a second line! I told my husband to “ignore the positive pregnancy test in the bathroom trash. I took it this morning and it was negative. You’re not supposed to read the results after ten minutes, so it must’ve turned positive after that.” …He told me that I needed to take another test.

I drove to the nearest drugstore and purchased a box of three tests. As soon as I got home I tore open the box and read the instructions, deciding that I’d follow them closely this time. As I waited, I watched. Again, the test window turned a darker shade and it appeared to be negative. But then, slowly, a second line appeared. We were pregnant!

The next morning I was back at the drug store to pick up prenatal vitamins. After work that evening, my husband and I went to the library and checked out a handful of pregnancy books. We wanted to make sure we did everything right. Even then, before our first loss, I remember being particularly worried about miscarriage; I would research how likely miscarriage was by each gestational week and counted out the weeks on my calendar. I took pregnancy tests every morning and even sometimes in the afternoon. I found comfort in watching the lines gradually get darker each day, but couldn’t shake the concern of miscarriage. It was as if I knew what was coming.

When I went in for my first blood test to confirm our pregnancy, I was just shy of being 5 weeks pregnant. When they called to confirm the results, they told me that my numbers were fine for being 4 weeks pregnant. I remember that sounding so strange to me, but I figured they knew something that I didn’t, so I didn’t correct them. That was on a Tuesday.

That Thursday I noticed that I was spotting. It was such a small amount it didn’t even make it to my underwear. Physically, things felt okay- I wasn’t cramping and wasn’t really bleeding. Since it was before 7 am, I called the emergency nurse line, which I was told to call if I ever needed anything outside of the regular 8-5 business hours. The nurse I spoke to seemed confused, as if it was ridiculous for me to call with questions about spotting, and told me that I’d have to wait to call my OBGYN at 8 am. I remember being so anxious and a little pissed off- what’s the point of an emergency/after hours phone line if they’re just going to have you wait until regular business hours anyways?

Finally, 8 am arrived and I called my OBGYN’s office. The nurse I spoke to wasn’t any more helpful. She made me feel so stupid for being worried about “nothing”. “You’re not cramping? You’re not filling a pad with blood? You’re fine. You can’t worry about everything little thing like this.” She also said that since I had just taken a blood test, there wasn’t a need for another one. I begged her to let me come in for another test. She hung up, saying that she’d check with the OBGYN and get back to me.

She called me back within the hour- the OBGYN said I could come in for another test, if it would make me feel better.

I rushed from work to the clinic and was in and out of there within 15 minutes. I had asked the phlebotomist if she knew how long the results would take; I’ll always remember her response, and it has re-played in my head every miscarriage since. “If it’s positive, you’ll hear back from the doctor in about 30 minutes. If it’s negative, it’ll be closer to an hour.” They didn’t call me back within 30 minutes.

When I got the call, it was the same nurse I had spoken to earlier that morning. “Hi Katarina, I have your results and……oh… I’m so sorry.”

Okay, so was she so sure that everything was fine that she didn’t even read the results before calling me? I felt the floor disappear beneath me as she continued to extend her sympathy and explain that my HCG level had gone down. I don’t remember the rest of the conversation, but took notes as she spoke at me. Looking back on the notes, she apparently had told me that I would start bleeding soon due to my “missed miscarriage”.

(Let me add a little side note here- if you’re ever pregnant, do not let my story scare you. It IS common to bleed and spot during your pregnancy. Just because it was bad news for me doesn’t mean it is bad news for you.)

I rushed home from work and was greeted by my husband. Most of the day is fuzzy, but I do remember taking a walk with our dog, MJ, talking about the life we lost the entire time.

We had been planning a video call with our parents, since mine were in Florida at the time, to announce our pregnancy; that Saturday’s video call turned out to be a heartbreaking phone call instead. My parents admitted that they thought we were going to tell them that we were pregnant, since we don’t typically schedule video calls like that.

Although life started to get back to normal in the following weeks, another big change came to knock us to our knees- the COVID-19 pandemic. It was surreal to be both emotionally and physically alone.

I remember being so sad, but finding comfort in the fact that a second miscarriage wasn’t likely. Ignorance is bliss, as they say. If I had the chance to go back and warn my past self about what would happen with my next pregnancy (and the next two after that, as of the date of this post), I don’t know that I would. Past-Kat has a long journey ahead of her, and I don’t want to drain her of her will to work her way through it all.