Faith

I conceived my first child at 18 years old. For the first few months of my pregnancy, I felt pretty good. I didn’t really know what all the fuss was about. No morning sickness, only getting sick once while doing gross dishes. A little spotting every so often, which I was told was normal … I must just have an “irritable uterus”. As my baby got bigger, it became harder to walk without pain. At around 5 months I started having random contractions. In and out of the doctor's office until one day I was terrified. The pressure and pain weren’t going away. I called the nurses line for my doctor and was told by a terrible nurse that I couldn’t call in for every last tiny pain. She was treating me like a dumb pregnant teenager. Luckily my mother in law came in as I’m crying and trying to reason with the nurse. My mother in law got on the phone and got me an appointment.

Even walking into the doctor’s office felt different. You could tell people thought I was just being scared. The nurse was nice enough as she brought me back to the exam room. The doctor came in and asked the standard questions and began the exam. Within moments, we were being sent to the hospital. I was starting to efface and having contractions. They needed to stop the labor. I was given meds to stop the labor and placed on bed rest at home. No ultrasound was done to check my cervix. Multiple times I ended up back in the hospital, being fed medication to stop contractions, not a single person trying to figure out why this was happening. No answers could be given. Luckily my little trooper held on until just 2 weeks shy of her due date. Born at a healthy weight with a bad case of jaundice. She survived. 

I suffered a hemorrhage after birth, I lost a great deal of blood. Even leaving the hospital, I was still losing a lot of blood. I tried telling the doctors and nurses that it seemed I was going through too many pads. Still, nothing was done. Finally, after 12 weeks of still bleeding, a doctor found I had an infection from the placenta that never detached. I would have to have a D&C surgery. Postpartum hit me hard after this. I was terrified. I had no idea if I could talk about it. I assumed this was just women’s duty, my duty as a mother, when in fact, I had experienced trauma. This should have been my first experience with IC but there was zero awareness at that time.

Sophia

Fast forward ten years later. I am now remarried. Enough time had passed that I was pregnant again after unsuccessfully trying for 2 years. I had almost forgotten about the horrible parts of my first pregnancy and birth. I think I mostly chalked it up to being so young and ignorant. I was 30 and it was kind of make it or break it time. The first couple of months were much the same as my first. I wasn’t really sick. We had a few random scares early on. She wasn’t appearing on the initial ultrasound because we were simply a week too early. Then we couldn’t find her heartbeat at another appointment prompting another ultrasound. I believe this was the 1st of many ultrasounds and appointments for this pregnancy. The tech had discovered funneling. Basically, my womb was opening from the inside. My body was silently failing. At about 3 months in I was already starting to have a hard time walking. Experiencing the same pain and pressure from my first pregnancy. But now, doctors wanted answers.

I was sent to Maternal-Fetal Medicine to develop a plan. They explained the various treatments they could try to help keep my pregnancy viable. I was started on a progesterone suppository and told I was on a strict bed and pelvic rest. After only 2 weeks on the progesterone treatments, I knew it wasn’t working. I still remember the day I was talking to the only people who knew what I was going through. 2 other friends that had been through an incompetent cervix. This time, I had a little more information, a little more support. My dearest friend Daphne lost her son to IC and went on to have her rainbow baby after 6 months of hospital bed rest and other surgeries/treatments. She was on the phone with me as I cried, knowing something was wrong. She told me to go in. 

My husband met me at Maternal-Fetal Medicine, both of us nervous. I was straight back to an ultrasound room where they discovered my pregnancy was almost literally hanging on by a hair. I had maybe a 1/4th of an inch cervix left. I needed to get to the Univesity of Minnesota Riverside Hospital since they have one of the best NICU in the state. So we were off to the hospital, not knowing what was going to happen. After 72 hours they knew I was going to need surgery to keep this pregnancy viable. I would have to have a rescue cerclage placed. Sparing gruesome details here, we’ll move on. Once released from the hospital (after a week of monitoring) I was terrified. There was still no information. I would be on bed rest at home, have weekly checks, and hope the stitch holds.

It was the hardest 4 and a half months of my life. Every pain, every contraction, seemed to be taunting me. Was my stitch failing? Who do I talk to? What can I do? It was around this time that one of my friends in New York was also being diagnosed with cervix issues. She was even more lost than I was. I at least had my friend in California coaching me through when she could. So that is what I would be for Carissa. 3 women, on opposite sides of the country, all dealing with this rare pregnancy complication. And some would say it’s too rare to care about. 

Sophia ended up holding on until 2 weeks before her due date. Born at a more than healthy weight and a bit jaundiced. I would go on to have my second d & c. Bed rest, high-risk pregnancy complications, almost losing my child at 19 weeks … no after birth support for that kind of trauma. Postpartum reared it’s ugly head again but this time in the form of extreme anxiety. Being older, I at least recognized the signs this time and was able to talk about it at least some parts. But the part that most would not understand is that my body had failed me, almost failed my daughter. But if anything, this was the pregnancy that diagnosed with an incompetent cervix. 

Annabelle

Well … against my doctor's orders and my best judgment, I got pregnant again almost 2 years later. I remember bawling when I found out. Not only from complete and utter exhaustion due to the weeks of constant nausea but also because I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to carry her to full term. You’d think, going through it twice, it would somehow be easier this time. Other than my doctor’s dirty looks (lovingly, of course, she was/is an incredible OB) we knew what we were going into. I would have a cerclage and be on bed rest. But could I really handle it again? There was something so incredibly lonely about it during my last pregnancy. I don’t have family that lives around me and now I’d be doing it all with a toddler in tow. 

This pregnancy started off so much harder than the previous two. I had hyperemesis gravidarum, a hemorrhage that was potentially threatening in my first trimester, an irritable uterus, and an incompetent cervix. What I didn’t have was a good support system. This isn’t to discredit all my husband’s hard work during these pregnancies. But he will be the first to admit he had no idea what I was going through. How could he? My doctors and nurses could only do so much as well. With IC being relatively rare, not even all OB’s have substantial knowledge of the issue. A problem that my friend Carissa ran into with her doctors in New York. 

Bedrest and an early cerclage seemed to be doing its job. The constant worry and panic of every pain was mentally exhausting. Due to one of our scans, we had to go through genetic testing and many more scans. As my date for cerclage removal approached, my amniotic fluid was measuring lower than normal. I was told I would probably have to be induced early. One week later, the day of my cerclage removal … my water broke, a month too early. What happened next is maybe a little too graphic to go into but basically the stitch had to come out and unfortunately due to scar tissue from having it placed so early, part of the stitch had been left in. After hours and hours of labor, they finally discovered the problem. They would need to try to remove the stitch or I would need a C-section. After an hour of attempted removal, they strongly encouraged me to get an epidural if I wanted a vaginal birth. 

Fast forward to the most traumatic birth of my life, almost dying, and all the time only worrying about my child. I would love to explain more about the trauma I experienced since it directly correlates with the lack of information on IC and the fact that I had no idea these kinds of complications could happen from the supposed solution. 

All this happened almost 4 years ago and I still almost cry passing by the hospital where they were born. We need better resources for women going through this. We need a support system of women who have experienced IC. We need better research on life-saving methods. 1 in 100 pregnancies… myself included, I know of 4 women who had to suffer through this complication almost alone. Leaving us all with more questions than answers.