Pregnancy with SCH
Written by Rachael Friedrich
As I sit writing this, I can feel the first tiny flutters of my sweet baby. 7 weeks ago, I did not think I would get to this point and, even still, I am cautiously optimistic even though I feel like I should be loving and embracing all these moments and milestones.
My first two pregnancies were successful and uneventful (for the most part, the actual labors and births are a different story for another day). I have an energetic and charismatic 4-year-old boy and a curious and slightly mischievous 16-month-old girl. My husband and I always wanted at least three kids, but we weren’t exactly planning to have the third so quickly after my daughter… whoops!
That positive pregnancy test had us incredibly happy but also thinking, “Oh shit, what the hell are we going to do with 3?” The thought of being outnumbered was equally exciting and terrifying, especially considering we would have 2 under 2.
Like I said, I had two “easy” pregnancies and this third one was appearing to be the same. Other than the intense desire to eat every carb in the house at every hour of the day and the normal exhaustion (I am a mom of two and work full time, so exhaustion is just par for the course), everything seemed normal. Normal until the night before my first appointment.
“Oh shit, what the hell are we going to do with 3?”
Earlier that day I was feeling extra motivated and had a surge of energy, so I decided to do a little strength circuit and then jump on the Peloton. I worked out intensely through both previous pregnancies so this wasn’t out of the norm for me and something I knew my doctor would support. That night as I was cleaning up some toys, I felt a small gush. As calmly as I could, I walked to the bathroom and immediately saw the blood. It wasn’t a ton, but it was enough for me to know that it couldn’t be good. I didn’t know what to do. This was such a scary moment and all the bad thoughts started to invade my brain. But I couldn’t dwell on it too much because right outside the door were two kids and a husband that were ready to sit down and eat a family dinner. I cleaned myself up, took a few deep breaths and put on the brave mom face, the one we all have. I casually told my husband what was happening and that I didn’t know what it meant. He gave me a concerned look, but also didn’t know what to do. There isn’t exactly a protocol for how to handle a pending baby loss.
After dinner, I went straight to the internet. Searching things like: what does miscarriage bleeding look like, how do miscarriages start, how long do miscarriages last, etc. What I found was, there isn’t an exact science to this process, but I should expect the bleeding to ramp up within the next few hours.
Armed with this knowledge/fear of waking up in a puddle of blood, I tried to get some sleep. My husband, bless his heart, has this ability to rationalize in these moments. I don’t know if it’s a man thing or a him thing, but he tends not to worry or fret about anything unless there is something tangible to worry about. He doesn’t do the hypothetical “what if’s”, especially at the price of losing sleep. I find this to be equally frustrating and comforting. Frustrating that I am tossing and turning waiting for something bad to start happening while he sleeps, but also comforted by his calmness and knowing that if something does happen he will be up and ready to help in the blink of an eye.
Morning came and to my surprise, there was no middle of the night bleeding. When I went to the bathroom that morning there was some pink, but nothing super bloody or red. I was so thankful to be seeing the doctor that same day.
Armed with this knowledge/fear of waking up in a puddle of blood, I tried to get some sleep.
As I got into the doctor’s office the first thing the nurse asks me was if I’ve had any bleeding or spotting. After I answered “yes”, I could see the concern on her face. I got gowned up, my doctor came in and did a transvaginal ultrasound. According to our calculations, I should’ve been about 7 weeks at this time so we weren’t expecting to see a whole lot. He located the sac and saw the baby (phew) and then was able to pick up a heartbeat (double phew). But as he’s looking around, he spots something. To me, I see nothing other than the little baby peanut and a big black hole. Apparently, that big black hole was not supposed to be there.
SCH. A subchorionic hematoma. This is what I am told that black hole on the ultrasound is. I don’t know what any of those words mean. What does this mean for my baby? What does this mean for me? What did I do to cause this? Was it the workout I did? Did I get pregnant too quickly after the last one? What?!
SCH. A subchorionic hematoma.
My doctor explains it as some bleeding where the placenta is trying to attach. It’s like an internal bruise. Sometimes they keep growing and could hinder growth of the baby, cause early term labor, or it could mean the pregnancy will end on its own relatively soon. On the positive side, there are also times when they go away on their own and baby isn’t affected at all. So basically, a watch and see. Well fuck.
Instead of the usual 4 weeks in between appointments, my doctor asked me to come back in two so we could monitor the SCH.
Those next two weeks were hell, though only on the inside of course. I had to keep it together on the outside for my kids and to keep up with my job and other family needs. I scoured the internet for more information. Looking for everything from clinical documents and research papers to personal blogs and YouTube videos of women recounting their experiences. Every time I went to the bathroom I would hold my breath as I wiped. The bleeding continued. I felt like a ticking time bomb.
Another fun part (ha, not) of this two-week period was that it directly coincided with the start of pregnancy loss awareness month. Pregnancy loss stories were EVERYWHERE. I am so proud of all the women brave enough to share their experiences and am a strong believer in helping women feel like they aren’t alone, but damn, this was not opportune timing for what I was experiencing personally. I started thinking that if all these women had to go through this trauma, then I must have to too. This was going to be my story of loss and it only seemed right that I had to face this just as all of them had. It wasn’t fair for me to end up with three successful pregnancies without losing one along the way. I knew so many people who have been through this: my mom, my sister, my best friend, and family members. Of course it was my turn. So, I waited, and I didn’t let myself get excited or tell anyone about baby. I felt disconnected and I liked it that way. I felt like it would serve me better once the inevitable happened.
Do all women do this? Is it just me? Looking back, why didn’t I reach out and talk to someone? Why did I keep this bottled up? If I had reached out to any of my friends or family in these two weeks they would have given me so much love and support. But instead I stayed quiet. Forged ahead. Lived in denial of even being pregnant (or tried to). Two weeks felt like an eternity.
Looking back, why didn’t I reach out and talk to someone? Why did I keep this bottled up?
Appointment day came.
Did I mention I live in California? And we are still living in the midst of pandemic life? The hospitals in this area will not let you have anyone with you unless you are a pediatric patient. Yeah… So that sucked big time. Walking alone into an appointment I was convinced would result in terrible news was awful. This is not the time to be alone, you need someone holding your hand. Someone to hug after that heartbeat isn’t found. Someone to listen to the doctor while she/he explains your options. I wasn’t going to have that.
So once again, I put on that brave face and forged ahead. I treated this as business, it was the only way I knew how to get through it. I was so focused on maintaining composure, I didn’t even react initially when the doctor saw baby and heartbeat and said everything was great. I was so numb with the thoughts that I’d surely lost baby. Eventually, I came around and was able to appreciate the moment with the help of my very kind and understanding doctor. The other good news was that the SCH was now undetectable!
I left the appointment happy, still guarded, but happy. I immediately called my husband and heard the relief in his voice. Maybe he was also putting on a brave face for me. Love that man!
I am now 15 weeks pregnant. At my ultrasound last week everything looked great. I am becoming more excited and aware of the fact that we are going to add a sweet new baby to our lives. We told my son and he’s so sweet and excited to be a big brother again. Our daughter has no clue what is happening, but I love being a big sister and know she will too (she better be anyways).
I don’t know if I’ll ever get past the worry with this pregnancy. I still look for blood every time I go to the bathroom. I hold my breath a little with every appointment, every ultrasound. But I can’t wait to meet our baby girl.
