Guest Writer Wednesday: Krista's Unicornuate Uterus Story

Krista shares her unicornuate uterus (UU) story. This woman has been through some ups and downs, and it just goes to show that every woman’s experience with a UU is unique. I am grateful for her bravery in sharing the raw moments with us. She keeps it real. But there is hope and joy weaved within it all.

“I’m sorry, but...” is something I have heard too many times in the past 6 years. The first time was in 2012, I had just undergone laparoscopic surgery to treat endometriosis. My doctor diagnosed me with a uterine abnormality and at that time I didn’t absorb the details of my issue. ‘I’m sorry, but your uterus isn't normal, and having kids will be a struggle,’ is the gist of what I heard and believed until 2016. 

My sweet little Moira, my first baby, was conceived naturally, unexpectedly, and against the odds I thought that I knew. But on August 4th, 2015 I heard the phrase again. “I’m sorry, but your baby has no heartbeat.” I saw the words on my doctor’s face before he spoke them. The breath left my lungs, the tears were instant and hot. The room spun and the walls closed in. My doctor took my phone and called my husband. I had never experienced true hysterical crying until that moment. On August 6th, 2015 2:43 a.m. my daughter was born sleeping at 21 weeks gestation. “I’m so sorry, but you can always try again.” “I’m so sorry, but there was probably a reason.” “I’m so sorry, but...” “I’m so sorry, but...” over and over again, like a ringing in your ears that will not stop. We left the hospital empty handed, and with no answers as to why.

In the next few months I found a new doctor for a third opinion as to what had happened on my end. In March 2016, I had another exploratory surgery. This time the doctor did a hysterosalpingography in order to find a clear and accurate diagnosis. This time I listened and better understood: I was a unicorn. Right sided unicornuate uterus with a left rudimentary horn. My left ovary and fallopian tube were one solid form instead of two. The fimbriae on my right side was basically not there - meaning an egg would have a hard time getting into my uterus. 

My husband and I sat, digesting the information for a few months before seeking help from a fertility clinic. Yes, we had conceived naturally once but now we knew we would have a better chance at a family with some help. We started the long and invasive testing process in May, and by October we were finally ready to take the leap. One cycle of Clomid with hCG shot boosts and I was announcing my pregnancy by Christmas! 

As you can imagine, I was an anxiety ridden mess. I couldn't go through another loss like the one before. Then, the 20 week appointment came around and Boom! Baby Nora is wiggling away on the ultrasound. An instant weight lifted and our second little girl was looking spectacular, until… “I’m sorry, but I don't like the look of your cervix. I need to go get the doctor.” 72 hours later I was in the OR getting my cervix sewn in a procedure called a cerclage. “I’m sorry, but it was a lot more difficult than we expected as the sack had already started to fall into the birth canal. We are keeping you over night and you will be on bed rest until she is born.”

By 28 weeks she was running out of room. I had started biweekly non-stress tests, which she constantly failed. Biophysical profiles via ultrasound then followed, rarely passed. I was finally sent to a fetal medicine specialist. They were confident at 32 weeks she and I would still be ok to continue my pregnancy. My husband and I were scared shitless of losing her. At 35 weeks all parties agreed it was safe to induce. “I’m sorry, but you need to be prepared for her to be taken and flown to a NICU.” Every doctor and every nurse that came into my room during my induction told us that. After 48 hours of induced labor, I was rushed in for a c-section. June 4th, 2017 @ 10:48 a.m. my rainbow baby was born, and she was healthy! No NICU time for this fighter! 

After she was about a year and a half old, we had decided that if she was to be our one and only, then so be it. We were resigned to see if we just “happened” to conceive again as we had in the past. It wasn't until the beginning of 2020 that we did! We weren’t expecting it at all! Life had been crazy and we had given up months before on hoping for another one, but here we went again…

“I’m sorry, but we aren’t seeing a heartbeat and you're only measuring 5 weeks 5 days.” I should have been over 8 weeks. 2 more weeks passed, and I was still pregnant. Maybe I had just ovulated late? No. “I’m sorry, but he/she hasn’t changed or grown at all. Here are your options…” I took the medication route, thinking it would be the easiest. I was told that it would be 4-6 hours before it started the miscarriage, so I returned to work. An hour later I was in the bathroom changing my clothes. It worked: fast and hard. I went home, bleeding and in pain, with my world completely crushed again. I had never bled so much in my life! At one point I sat in my bathtub because no matter how many pads I used I was still bleeding through. Eventually, I started losing consciousness. I laid on the floor where I had fainted and yelled for my sleeping husband. I was crying, pale, and thought for sure this was how I was going to die. I did not, obviously. After a middle of the night trip to the ER, I was home with medication and thankfully no blood transfusion. 

Covid then came and, like most people, disrupted life as I knew it. I was laid off from my second job, my full-time job was told “no more patients” unless it was an emergency situation, and eventually I was furloughed for 6 weeks from that job, too. My husband and I separated on poor terms and life generally fell apart. We have both since moved on with our lives and we co-parent our little miracle. 

In March of 2021 I found out I was pregnant, again! This time with a guy who already had 3 healthy children and didn’t know what exactly I had been through. The pregnancy felt very different from the other 3. I was stressed, but hopeful that I would end my year with a healthy, happy baby in my arms. At 11 weeks I found out, it’s a BOY! I opted at 14 weeks for another cerclage. The baby was moving at 15 weeks and I could feel him! Getting pregnant when I did and in my personal situation wasn't ideal, but I was so genuinely happy anyway. 

My 20 week appointment came around and this time I went to the MFM specialist for my ultrasound, and yet again I heard, “I’m sorry, but your cerclage is failing. We need to send you to Denver right away to get a rescue cerclage.” Our minds both started racing. I hadn't felt well for a few days, I was cramping, and now I was panicking. I was scheduled for the rescue cerclage the following morning, but that night after my exam I was cramping in a bad way. I decided to go to the hospital in the middle of the night. It was past my scheduled OR time and the doctors were still trying to decide if I was well enough to undergo the abdominal cerclage procedure.

As a precaution, I was asked to do an amniocentesis. Why the hell not? It’ll be uncomfortable for me, but then we could get the show on the road and get me and my son back home and healing. “I’m sorry, but is there anyone you can call before we go over these results?” I got my mom on the line. My head was spinning and I couldn't process anything the 3 doctors in my room were telling me. I simply stared at them in disbelief. “I’m sorry, but you have a chorioamnionitis infection. We cannot stop it from spreading AND keep you pregnant.” A million tears and questions later: “I’m sorry, but we will have to induce.” Less than 4 hours later on July 2nd 2021 2:51 p.m., I was holding my 20 week gestation son Henry, who was alive but too small for them to save. He lived for 1 hour, and then I was officially broken. Crumbled into a million pieces like a mirror that was hit with a sledge hammer, repeatedly. In that moment, I wanted to die with him. How was I supposed to survive the grief of another loss like this? How were we going to go home and explain to four kids that their brother wasn’t ever coming home? “I’m so sorry but…” “I’m so sorry, but…” over and over and over again, like a ringing in my ears that will never stop. 

But I am a unicorn, I am strong. I am unique. And I am fighting on.

About Krista

My name is Krista. I'm a medical assistant, mother, daughter, sister, aunt, niece, friend, tattoo lover, outlander obsessed, and most importantly I am a unicorn. Not really, but I have a unicorn uterus which is why I am here. I have had 4 pregnancies and I am so proud to be the mother of one beautiful rainbow baby with three guardian angels. I am still here. I am healing and learning to love myself and my body better as I go. I hope to let others know that they are not alone, that they have support and companionship on this rocky unicorn’s journey, and that healing does come. Travel, work, love, and live on. Give it time. We are all fighters.