I've always felt like there was this club of women, a club that I had hoped to never be a part of. Women who've had infertility issues, women who have lost children, women who have miscarried.
Saturday morning we were ecstatic to learn that we were pregnant. We had been trying for months. Not charting and temping and all of that yet, but trying to have another child for about 9 months. Since it was much easier with Neva, we were disappointed every month, with every negative home pregnancy test. Excited, beyond excited, to learn this news. So excited that we told our immediate families right away.
I felt great. I felt so good, in fact, that I went for a jog that afternoon. I was already enjoying not being so concerned with what I was eating and celebrating with a nice dinner out with my sweet husband. Sunday, more of the same. I felt so good that I got up and went for a nice long walk before anyone else was even awake.
Monday morning, I was having a hard time focusing on work and already shopping for the crib and bedroom furniture. Looking at new paint colors because if it's a girl, she might not want a green room. Checking in on babycecnter.com to see what our little "sesame seed" was doing at 5 weeks gestation. I called the midwife, elated to learn that she was planning to deliver babies until the end of March...and we were just within that timeline. We had talked about supplements and what to do between now and our initial visit at the end of August. I could barely contain myself.
That afternoon, though, things started to change. I started spotting a little, which is totally common in early pregnancy so I tried not to worry. I tried to tell myself that this was all fine, a little spotting is no big deal. It started to increase as the evening wore on, but I was trying to stay calm and not stress and continue to tell myself that everything was fine.
Early Tuesday morning, I sat straight up in bed, as it felt as though I had wet the bed. I knew that this wasn't good news. A little bleeding, no biggie, a lot of bleeding...bad news. I tried to go about the morning as though this were all normal. Continuing to keep Eric up to date with what was happening. I called our midwife as I was driving to work and was instructed to pick up some vitamins and go home. I hesitated taking the day off, but she made it clear that I needed to decide what was more important. I was terrified.
I went home and slept. I hoped that when I woke up everything would be fine. But the bleeding continued and so did the panic. I kept in touch with our midwife throughout the day and she informed me that it sounded like I was having a miscarriage. I cried. A lot. I texted the news to all who we had just shared with a few days prior that we were pregnant. Eric came home and we cried together. A lot. We had two options, to wait and see and then take another home pregnancy test in a week or so...or to have my HCG levels checked and get an answer more quickly. I opted for the HCG bloodwork as I needed to know.
On Wednesday, I met up with our midwife for a quick blood draw. I was hopeful, as the bleeding had slowed since the day before. I waited and waited and never heard anything. Between the anxiety of not knowing what was going on and the work that my body was doing, I was exhausted. I worked almost a full day, but decided to call it quits and go home. When I got home, I got the news that I was hoping wasn't coming. My HCG levels were so low, there was no point in even checking them again on Friday. It was real. I had miscarried. I was no longer pregnant.
This news shook me. I called Eric and let him know. I texted and let family know that we had in fact miscarried. I was heartbroken. I cried some more. I received texts from loved ones letting me and appreciated every single message that I received. Knowing that people were thinking of us and praying for us made me feel better.
It's unbelievable how sad one can be, just moments or days after being so happy. It's amazing how knowing you are pregnant for 48 hours can change your whole life. A friend shared some good points with me and was able to put into words what I was feeling, but was unable to express. My heart and soul had already fallen in love with this baby. I had already been envisioning what our lives would look like come March 2014...the pains of labor, the difficulties with nursing, the sleepless nights, the falling in love with another baby. "The loss feels much bigger than the size of the baby or the length of the pregnancy". It's amazing how in love I already was with this baby and how heartbroken I am now that this baby has gone.
So, as I said, this "club" that I wanted nothing to do with is now a part of my life. I have been initiated whether I like it or not. I'm not happy to be here, but I am grateful for the love and support that has been shown to me during this shitty time.
Saturday morning we were ecstatic to learn that we were pregnant. We had been trying for months. Not charting and temping and all of that yet, but trying to have another child for about 9 months. Since it was much easier with Neva, we were disappointed every month, with every negative home pregnancy test. Excited, beyond excited, to learn this news. So excited that we told our immediate families right away.
I felt great. I felt so good, in fact, that I went for a jog that afternoon. I was already enjoying not being so concerned with what I was eating and celebrating with a nice dinner out with my sweet husband. Sunday, more of the same. I felt so good that I got up and went for a nice long walk before anyone else was even awake.
Monday morning, I was having a hard time focusing on work and already shopping for the crib and bedroom furniture. Looking at new paint colors because if it's a girl, she might not want a green room. Checking in on babycecnter.com to see what our little "sesame seed" was doing at 5 weeks gestation. I called the midwife, elated to learn that she was planning to deliver babies until the end of March...and we were just within that timeline. We had talked about supplements and what to do between now and our initial visit at the end of August. I could barely contain myself.
That afternoon, though, things started to change. I started spotting a little, which is totally common in early pregnancy so I tried not to worry. I tried to tell myself that this was all fine, a little spotting is no big deal. It started to increase as the evening wore on, but I was trying to stay calm and not stress and continue to tell myself that everything was fine.
Early Tuesday morning, I sat straight up in bed, as it felt as though I had wet the bed. I knew that this wasn't good news. A little bleeding, no biggie, a lot of bleeding...bad news. I tried to go about the morning as though this were all normal. Continuing to keep Eric up to date with what was happening. I called our midwife as I was driving to work and was instructed to pick up some vitamins and go home. I hesitated taking the day off, but she made it clear that I needed to decide what was more important. I was terrified.
I went home and slept. I hoped that when I woke up everything would be fine. But the bleeding continued and so did the panic. I kept in touch with our midwife throughout the day and she informed me that it sounded like I was having a miscarriage. I cried. A lot. I texted the news to all who we had just shared with a few days prior that we were pregnant. Eric came home and we cried together. A lot. We had two options, to wait and see and then take another home pregnancy test in a week or so...or to have my HCG levels checked and get an answer more quickly. I opted for the HCG bloodwork as I needed to know.
On Wednesday, I met up with our midwife for a quick blood draw. I was hopeful, as the bleeding had slowed since the day before. I waited and waited and never heard anything. Between the anxiety of not knowing what was going on and the work that my body was doing, I was exhausted. I worked almost a full day, but decided to call it quits and go home. When I got home, I got the news that I was hoping wasn't coming. My HCG levels were so low, there was no point in even checking them again on Friday. It was real. I had miscarried. I was no longer pregnant.
This news shook me. I called Eric and let him know. I texted and let family know that we had in fact miscarried. I was heartbroken. I cried some more. I received texts from loved ones letting me and appreciated every single message that I received. Knowing that people were thinking of us and praying for us made me feel better.
It's unbelievable how sad one can be, just moments or days after being so happy. It's amazing how knowing you are pregnant for 48 hours can change your whole life. A friend shared some good points with me and was able to put into words what I was feeling, but was unable to express. My heart and soul had already fallen in love with this baby. I had already been envisioning what our lives would look like come March 2014...the pains of labor, the difficulties with nursing, the sleepless nights, the falling in love with another baby. "The loss feels much bigger than the size of the baby or the length of the pregnancy". It's amazing how in love I already was with this baby and how heartbroken I am now that this baby has gone.
So, as I said, this "club" that I wanted nothing to do with is now a part of my life. I have been initiated whether I like it or not. I'm not happy to be here, but I am grateful for the love and support that has been shown to me during this shitty time.
