Miscarriage #3 Diagnosis: Triploidy

Triploidy.

That was what I read when I opened my portal to find the results from the genetic testing from the most recent miscarriage. As one does when they find out information they don’t know, I Googled it (also why weren’t my doctors calling me to discuss these results with me? Why was I left to Google?)

Per Google: “Triploidy is a rare genetic condition that causes a developing fetus to have 69 total chromosomes in their cells instead of 46 total. Most pregnancies end in a miscarriage because of complications from the condition. Triploidy happens randomly and it isn’t the result of the birthing parent’s age.”

I read this and went okay, wow, an answer. We never got a definitive answer before. I closed out, told Henry, and we got ready to go to the beach. Yeah, I read this while I was on vacation. 🙄

Fast forward to this week, I finally spoke to my doctor who explained these results further. One of the complications with triploidy is that it results in a partial molar pregnancy (great, another thing to Google!) Ultimately, what this means is that all of those extra cells are attaching themselves inside my uterus and causing my body to still think it’s pregnant. The only way to find out if my body is absorbing these cells is to do weekly blood tests? If they don’t? Apparently it can lead to a rare form of cancer that requires chemo.

Early yesterday morning, I got an ultrasound to check if anything else is wrong. The kicker was that the young woman who performed my ultrasound was very, very PREGNANT. I can’t make this stuff up! Does anyone look at my chart?! I clearly saw so many techs in this facility. Why did she have to be the one assigned to me? When I walked inside, she asked happily, “What are you here for?!” I almost felt bad making her feel uncomfortable. I simple said, “I just had a miscarriage and I’m having pain on my right side.” I cried while she took all of the imaging while Henry rubbed my head. I’m so grateful that he came along for this. This would normally be something I’d do myself (especially since I had to be up at 5:30). She threw me a box of tissues before she left and said, “I’m sorry. I know this sucks.”

***

I will not be a victim of my circumstances.

I’m so tired of being sad.

I want my body back.

I have screamed these statements in fury with tears streaming down my face. The fact of the matter is that I feel trapped.

I don’t want to be a victim but how can I not feel like one when I’ve had to endure so much pain, mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually?

How can I NOT be sad when there are things that have happened in my life that have completely obliterated my soul and spirit?

How will I ever get my body back? Before my mom died, I ran everyday and was in shape. Depression and grief made it hard for me to get out of bed, so running felt impossible. My body has been poked and prodded, and has dealt with so many procedures and surgeries because of infertility and recurrent pregnancy loss. I am twenty pounds heavier in weight and in the sadness I carry every day. I need to let go of this idea that I’ll ever go back to the girl I was in 2019 (not saying she was healthy either) and try to embrace this new body I have. The one that brought C.C. into this world and the one that has been pregnant four times.(Two times just this past year).

I thought I had already hit rock bottom but it seems I just keep falling deeper and ricocheting off everything as I go down.

When will this stop? How do I keep moving forward? How do I keep going?

Asking for a me.