Beyond the Pink Lines

After the loss of the twins in March 2017, we knew we eventually wanted to try again once my body had physically healed and we were emotionally ready. This is Hayden’s story.
Around June 2017, we decided to officially start trying again. Not in the obsessive way  no ovulation kits, basal body temperature tracking, or cervical mucus checks. But in the sense that we were married, knew we wanted a baby, and thought, “We got pregnant quickly with the twins, so it’ll probably happen again just as easily.”
So we stopped preventing it and waited for the positive test we assumed would come quickly.
But month after month went by, and nothing happened. At the time, we didn’t think too much of it. We knew sometimes it just takes time.
December 14, 2017. The day I got a positive pregnancy test.
The day started out normal. I got up and was getting ready for work. The previous week, I had felt just “off,” so before James woke up, I decided to take a digital test.
After what felt like hours — but in reality was only a few minutes — the word pregnant appeared on the screen.
I was shocked. I didn’t think it would happen.
Immediately, I started thinking of cute ways to announce to James that our rainbow baby was on the way. I started trying to figure out when we had conceived, and then it hit me — I had been sick for the past few weeks with a terrible head cold. I had basically been chugging Robitussin by the bottle, and apparently that can help loosen mucus everywhere, not just in your sinuses.
I just giggled to myself because I knew exactly when it had happened — one night when I was a complete snot fountain, but James still somehow found me beautiful and attractive.
But then everything changed.
I was in the shower when I started bleeding.
My heart sank. I knew what was happening.
I quickly got out of the shower and woke James up. I told him we needed to go to the ER because I had literally just gotten a positive pregnancy test and was now bleeding.
There was no cute announcement. No surprise reveal. Just me waking him up again, while he was still half asleep, trying to process the flood of information I was throwing at him.
I called into work, and so did James. Off to the ER we went again, carrying an all-too-familiar heartbreak.
By this point, I knew the process: lab work, ultrasounds, cervical checks, waiting — so much waiting. Feeling hopeless, helpless, hurt, confused… all of it.
Even though I still had a small glimmer of hope because I was only bleeding and hadn’t passed any clots, deep down I had a gut feeling about what the outcome was going to be.
To make matters worse, while we were waiting for the results and for the doctor to come in, I got an unexpected phone call.
It was my boss.
He called to let me know that I was being terminated due to attendance.
Really?
I was literally sitting in the ER. When I called in earlier that morning, I had explained that I had just found out I was pregnant and was actively bleeding, so we were on our way to the emergency room. He had verbally told me that it was okay, that he understood, and to keep him updated.
Only to call me back two hours later and terminate me over an emergency completely out of my control.
The real kicker was that about a month prior, I had sat down with my manager and assistant manager for a check-in meeting. They asked if there was anything I needed to update them on, and at that point I told them we were trying to get pregnant and that I would be considered high risk. I explained that if I ever had to unexpectedly call in, it would likely be because of a situation exactly like this.
They also knew I had transferred to their department from Labor & Delivery after losing the twins because working in L&D while trying to heal and process the loss of our children had become too much.
At the time, they told me they understood. They told me if I ever needed anything, to let them know.
Turns out they lied.
They didn’t understand, and they didn’t care.
After I got off the phone, the doctor came in within minutes and told me that while my cervix was closed, they were diagnosing me with a “threatened miscarriage” due to the bleeding and not being able to see anything on the ultrasounds.
They told me to follow up with my OB the next day to have my HCG levels redrawn because they were low, but they also said it could just be very early.
So as much as it hurt, we left the ER with no definite answers about Hayden.
My heart sank hearing the words “threatened miscarriage.” How were we supposed to process that? In one sense, it was better news than having a miscarriage confirmed, but at the same time, everything still felt uncertain.
At that point, it became a waiting game filled with repeat lab draws. There was nothing James or I could do except hold on to whatever hope we could grasp onto and pray.
December 15, I was getting ready to go to my OB for a repeat lab draw. As I was getting ready, I felt a gush. I went to the bathroom, and that’s when I saw a clot about the size of a golf ball.
I just started crying. I knew Hayden was gone.
I still went and had my HCG checked, and sure enough, when I got the results, my levels were continuing to go down but not by much. I was told to repeat the labs again in two days.
Two days later, my HCG was still at the exact same level. This concerned my OB because it should have been declining, especially with how much bleeding I was having. So 48 hours later, I went back again.
Same thing.
At that point, I had to have more ultrasounds to make sure my body had passed all of Hayden and that the pregnancy wasn’t ectopic. The ultrasound came back normal.
So, yep… more lab work.
Fourteen lab draws later, my HCG was finally back to zero.
Side note: loss around the holidays is incredibly painful.
Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. It’s a season centered around family, celebration, magic in the air, happiness, and joy. But that Christmas season turned into a painful nightmare.
And then there was sitting in the lobby of the OB office over and over again, surrounded by pregnant women and mothers there for postpartum checkups with their newborns. Watching couples leave smiling, carrying ultrasound photos, while I sat there trying to keep my composure knowing I wouldn’t have any of that. it was pure torture.
We landed on the name Hayden Avery because it’s important to us to name our children. They had their own DNA. They were little lives that were growing. They existed.
Since the loss was so early, we wanted both the first and middle name to be gender neutral.
Every loss is painful, but every loss also brings different emotions for different reasons.
Hayden’s loss was especially hard because we never got the chance to be excited. We never got to tell anyone. We never even had time to fully process that we were expecting because within an hour of seeing the positive test, everything turned into sadness.
Within 24 hours, we went from finding out we were pregnant with our rainbow baby to being thrown into another storm
I believe dogs can sense things before we know them and feel emotions deeply. The week leading up to my positive test, our dog at the time, Max, would sniff my lower abdomen, paw at it, and bark, as well as become extra protective. I’ll never forget December 15. After I got back from a blood draw, I was sitting in the recliner when Max jumped up on me, gave me a kiss on the cheek, laid his head on my lower abdomen, and started whining. He wouldn’t leave my side. He knew. And that absolutely broke my heart.
Hayden, like all of our children, is loved and missed. Hayden was wanted, prayed for, and deeply desired.
If this experience has taught us anything, it’s that life is precious and a miracle. Every life, no matter how short, deserves to be celebrated and acknowledged.

Two losses within a year was rough, really rough and has changed us and forced us to grow.

Fly high, Hayden Avery.