I had 7 negative pregnancy tests in a row during my time on Accutane (February-August). I took my birth control religiously and we were extremely careful. I was so sure there was nothing to worry about when I missed my period in July that I didn’t even mention it to Mason until a week later. I was stressed at work, I had gotten my last period on time (though, it was in April since I was on the pill where you only get 4 periods a year), and my periods have always been irregular (which is why it took me until I was 6 weeks pregnant with Charlotte to even consider taking a pregnancy test!) But I did mention it to the dermatologist at my appointment in mid-August. I double-checked that the test I took in the office that day was negative and she advised me that it was probably nothing and I should take a home pregnancy test in about 2 weeks just to make sure. I went on with my life and didn’t think anything of it until the end of the month.
We took Charlotte to the zoo in D.C. and to visit my grandmother in Northern Virginia the last weekend of August and that was the last day I spent blissfully unaware of anything wrong with my body. I look back at pictures from that day now and I’m envious of the person in them. She was happily enjoying time with her family, casually planning for a busy Fall, thinking maybe it would be nice to have another baby once Charlotte was a little older. It’s hard to look at these photos now and not feel a little bit angry.
On the way home, I started cramping. It wasn’t unusually painful (it felt like heavy period cramps), just unusual timing. And it triggered me to remember the advice of the dermatologist about a home pregnancy test. I waited until the next morning and took one in my bathroom. I set it on the counter and the whole thing felt eerily familiar as when I took the test that told me I was pregnant with Charlotte. I went on with my morning routine and when I remembered to look, I saw the positive symbol. I looked again, compared it to the instructions on the box, and couldn’t wrap my mind around it, much like when my test was positive with Charlotte. Only this time, instead of terrified excitement and wonder, I just felt terrified. All I could think about was the possibility of being pregnant while on this horrible medication and feeling so guilty we had somehow let this happen. When I could move again, I woke Mason up and made him double-check I was reading the test right. Between sobs and shaking, I managed to say something about calling the OB-GYN on my way to work. I spent the rest of the morning on the phone, trying to make someone at my OB’s office understand why I was sobbing as I requested the first appointment available.
Maybe I was naive when I got pregnant with Charlotte, but I quickly learned that no one thinks it’s as big a deal as you do. When you call the OB’s office and say you had a positive pregnancy test, they say “when was your last period?” and “you can meet with the nurse for your pregnancy consultation on this date”. With Charlotte, I didn’t completely believe I was pregnant until they did an ultrasound (which they had to do early because I couldn’t remember my last period and they had no idea how far along I was). The day I found out, I asked the nurse on the phone how they confirm if someone is pregnant before an ultrasound and this is how the conversation went:
Me: “Don’t you do a blood test or anything to confirm this?”
Nurse: “Did you take a home pregnancy test?”
Me: “Yes, I took three.”
Nurse: “Were they positive?”
Me: “Yes, all three of them.”
Nurse: “Congratulations, you’re pregnant!”
Me: “What?! What if I did it wrong? Aren’t there false positives?”
Nurse: “Did you pee on the stick?”
Me: “Yes.”
Nurse: “Congratulations, you’re pregnant! We’ll see you for your initial consultation in a few weeks.”
So I had this conversation playing in my head on August 26th when I was desperately trying to explain that I was very doubtful that I was pregnant and it was imperative I see a doctor and have an ultrasound as quickly as possible because I was on Accutane and I just needed to know what was going on. I went back and forth and talked with so many different people, and they were finally able to schedule an ultrasound for 10 days later. In the meantime, I begged them to let me get my blood work done so we could see about my HCG levels (and this is where the continuous obsession with my levels began).
This was the first time in my life that I found myself not giving a shit what a doctor or nurse thought of me and doing what felt right for me in that situation. I don’t know if it was the panic attacks, the shaking, or the constant nausea, but I just kept pushing that day, even calling another OB-GYN office to ask them to submit blood work (which they did, but in the meantime, my regular office sent in my orders and I wanted to keep all my records together). I rushed to the lab to do my blood work and got back to work a quickly as I could, hoping no one had noticed me sobbing on my phone all morning. I couldn’t eat anything or think about anything else all day, but somehow managed to make it through an office-wide lunch and a staff meeting in the afternoon before I heard back from the OB-GYN’s office.
The nurse told me my HCG levels were 134.9, or in her words “very low, but not negative”. You’re looking for levels between 0 and 5 in order to consider yourself “not pregnant”. However, 134.9 is extremely low and usually seen either in very early pregnancy or a miscarriage. We ended the conversation with the nurse explaining that there was indication of a pregnancy, but likely not a viable one given the timing of my missed period, and I should have repeat blood work done in 2 days. In a viable pregnancy, the levels should double or even triple by that time, and that would give us more information. I got off the phone and broke down in tears. I was relieved yet unconvinced, still terrified about what was happening.
One of the worst days of my life (until that point) ended with me throwing away all the rest of my Accutane and birth control and sobbing in Mason’s arms. I couldn’t even bring myself to tell my parents what was going on because I had no idea how to explain it and I felt so guilty. I was so tired from crying and not eating, I just put Charlotte to bed and fell asleep, hoping the next few days would bring some clarity.
Life One Step At A Time 