A bicornuate uterus and all the fun it brings

You who are faint of heart, especially about female things, should go read something else now.

During my second pregnancy I had an ultrasound at 7 weeks. I hadn't had an ultrasound during my first pregnancy until 20 weeks, and I used the same OBGYN so I have no idea why the difference in protocol. It just happened that way. During that 7-week ultrasound (I know that sounds like the procedure lasted 7 weeks, but really that's the lingo so stay with me here), the tech said one of those cryptic things techs say and then don't explain. This one was, "Did anyone ever tell you that you might have a double lining?" Uh, no. I had no idea what she meant, and she clammed up upon further questioning (I hate that) so I did a Web search when I got home and figured she must mean I had an extra thick uterine lining. I was a little worried since it sounded like that could be a problem for the fetus, so I posted a query on my favorite parenting site, Babyzone.com. One of my message board friends asked, "Do you think she might mean you have a bicornuate uterus?"

I initially scoffed at that idea since a Google search of that term immediately showed some rather strange images of a two-chambered uterus (sort of heart-shaped, hence the name "bicornuate") and alarming statistics on difficulty conceiving, higher incidence of miscarriages, interuterine growth restriction, and even stillbirth. Zoinks. No, I told myself. I cannot possibly have that condition. After all, I carried one baby to term already and had no problem conceiving and then what was considered a low-risk pregnancy.

The next day at work my phone rang, and when I answered, my surprised-sounding OBGYN announced, "Sara, we just discovered you have a bicornuate uterus!" Oh, my. I remember breaking out into a sweat. Let me fast forward a bit: After 30 more weeks of worrying like crazy and trying not to get too attached to the baby I was carrying just in case, I had a successful second pregnancy. The only difference from the first was that instead of going into spontaneous labor at 37wks like I had with my first child, I ended up being induced at 37wks because I had been dilated to 4cm for over 3 weeks already, and I have super rapid labors. As in, from the time my OBGYN broke my water w/baby #2 to the time he appeared was less than an hour. Zoooooooom!

We're probably done having kids, but my bicornuate uterus still plays a part in my life. It turns out that since the uterus and kidneys of a female fetus form at the same time, it's possible I might also have a kidney malformation or a number of kidneys other than two. Yup, I might only have one kidney, and if I do chances are it's located in line with my spine, rather than off to one side. Weird. Now that I'm done nursing that second baby, I have been told by my doctor that I need to have an intravenous pyelogram, which means I'll be injected with an iodine-based contrast material while an x-ray tech takes pictures of how it flows through my kidney(s) and bladder. I cannot tell you how much I do not want to do this procedure, but I suppose if I have less than a normal amount of kidneys, or two kidneys that aren't both fully functioning, I should know about it to protect my future health.

If any of you have ever had an IVP or are experiencing life with a bicornuate uterus, I'm happy to hear from you. Meanwhile, I want to express that while having a bicornuate uterus can lead to a lot of misery for couples trying to conceive a child or carry a healthy one full-term, there is hope. Somehow, and I know it's the grace of God, I conceived and bore two healthy children with this thing that a friend of mine dubbed my "kooky uterus." It can happen, and I hope that medical science figures out a way to make it happen more often.