I am the type of person when I go through something tough in life I need to talk about it. I need to hear other people's experiences with a similar situation. I need to not feel alone.
Almost 2 weeks ago I was getting ready to leave for my friend's bachelorette party for the weekend. Pat and I had been talking about trying for another baby and so the month prior we hadn't technically be trying, but we hadn't been preventing anything either. If it happened, great. And if not, then we were ready to officially start trying in June. I decided at the last minute to take a pregnancy test before heading out of town on the tiny, small chance that I might actually be pregnant. I had been spotting that whole week so I was anticipating a negative result and was really ok with that. You can imagine my surprise and shock when a little tiny plus sign appeared. Immediately I figured the test was wrong and proceeded to take 4 more. All positive.
Truthfully, I wasn't super ecstatic. Not the way I was when I found out I was pregnant with Lucy. Mostly I was in disbelief. Who gets pregnant the first month without even tracking anything? We simply pulled the birth control. And then I started to feel overwhelmed. This time I knew what to expect. I knew the long and sleepless nights that were waiting for me. I knew what it felt like to have you bladder punched from within. I remembered needing to sleep with 8 pillows in bed and still waking up to aching hips. I knew I wouldn't have a drop of wine all summer and that even made me a little sad.
The whole weekend of the bachelorette party I hid my news by taking fake drinks from my beer and by claiming my stomach was upset so I didn't want to drink too much. It was exhausting.
Pat was excited and already making plans about which room should be the new baby's and figuring out how to save up money to cover my maternity leave. I on the other hand still felt like it wasn't really happening. We skyped with his parents last week to tell them the news and afterwords I was scared we were lying to them. I went out and took yet another test the next day which again confirmed I was pregnant. It was only then that it finally started to sink in. And then I suddenly remembered all the wonderful things that were coming our way. I couldn't wait to start showing off a little baby bump. I couldn't wait to feel that little baby moving inside me and find out if it was a he or a she. I couldn't wait for Lucy to meet her new little baby brother or baby sister. I pulled out a little onesie and cradled it, imagining that in 9 months it would be our baby in this onesie. I also told myself to not be as fearful this pregnancy. When I was pregnant with Lucy I cramped and spotted early on and missed the joy of pregnancy. I wanted to not succumb to my fear again. I also realized that I was so protective of my pregnant body the first time, but realistically now with a toddler, this pregnancy would be different. I also told myself that I could drink a small amount of coffee each day which is something I would have never considered with Lucy. But working full-time with a toddler....a girl just needs some coffee.
Last Saturday morning I woke up and when I went to the bathroom I thought I noticed I was spotting a little. I was concerned but tried to remain calm as I had been down this road before. It seemed to go away after awhile and so I thought I was ok. Pat and I dropped Lucy off at my parents and headed down to Indy for a friends wedding that night. We checked into our hotel and again I noticed a small amount of spotting. I told Pat but we both tried to remain calm, as again, this was nothing new to us. I just tried to stay positive.
The wedding was beautiful and once it was over we headed to the reception. We laughed and joked with friends and I was happy to note that the small amount of cramping I had been feeling earlier was gone. I headed to the bathroom before dinner started and was surprised by blood. I immediately started tearing up and getting very scared. I tried to remain calm as I went back out to tell Pat what was going on. He reminded me that it probably was nothing and that everything would be ok. But I just felt like this was different. I was having trouble making small talk and finally just told Pat I needed to go out to the car for a bit. He came out with me and I cried and told him how scared I was. This was different than before. I was really upset but finally calmed down and we headed back into the reception. The people at our table must have thought I was crazy as I kept running off to the bathroom. Eventually the bleeding continued and then worsened and I told Pat I needed to get out of there and go back to the hotel. I also finally allowed myself to look up signs of miscarriage. I was showing them all.
By the next morning the bleeding and cramping was worse and I knew we had lost our baby. I was only 5 weeks pregnant and knew there was little that could be done so I waited until Monday to call the Dr.'s office. They told me they were sorry and to just take it easy and wait until after my next period before trying again.
I began blaming myself. I shouldn't have drank coffee. I should have been happy about the pregnancy from the start. I shouldn't have been tossing Lucy all over the place. I should have just told everyone we were pregnant because now I need to talk to people and it's so awkward to say "Hey I was pregnant but now I"m not".
I have friends that have miscarried, but truthfully, until you go through it, you don't know anything about it. People have said it's natures way of taking care of things, or that there was something wrong with the baby. But those things don't matter to me. I wouldn't have cared what was wrong with my baby. It was my baby and I loved it. I do take comfort in the fact that I was only 5 weeks when it happened. I can't imagine going through this any further along. I also take comfort in the fact that we already have Lucy. But that doesn't mean that I'm not terrified to try again. To go through this again. To lose another baby again.But I know that life goes on, season's change and that God will bless us again.
I feel like miscarriage is a funny thing. It's sad and heartbreaking and yet, no one really talks about it. I know others who have suffered through losing their babies, but I feel like it's all so hush-hush. And quite honestly, that made me pretty comfortable when I was on the other side of things. I didn't know what to say to my friends or how to help them heal the wound. But now I know, at least for me, I need to be able to talk about it. I want to know what others went through. I want to not feel alone in this. So maybe this is a long and sad post that doesn't really pertain to you. But it's my story now. It's a part of me. And I need to get it out there not only to help myself heal, but hopefully to open the door for people to talk about it.
I have spent time thinking about what kind of baby this would have been and am sad I never got to meet him or her. But then I think of my grandma. My grandma used to say that she couldn't wait to get to heaven so she could rock all the little babies. She loved babies and I just know she is up there rocking mine. And in the midst of sadness, that makes me smile.