part 3

In my previous post I tried to explain how in the beginning of the pregnancy we weren't sure what was going on because I wasn't measuring as far along I should have been based on my dates.  On March 29, when we saw that the sac had grown and there was a heartbeat, my doctor assessed that I just must have conceived really late in my cycle, and everything was now "normal."  The date that they gave me as when I would have probably conceived made sense, although to be honest with you, I couldn't remember :)  But because I can't be on hormonal birth control like the pill/shot, etc, our method is this - first week of cycle and the week I am expecting my period are the live-it-up weeks, and the weeks in between are the we-have-to-be-careful weeks.   It has worked since Tatie blessed us with her presence...

Anyway, I was so thankful God had chosen to create, and it just made me reflect on how He is so much in control.  We had a due date of the week before Thanksgiving (Nov 16), and already we couldn't wait to find out if our little turkey was a boy or girl.  As I said earlier, my lack of similar symptoms (read: vomiting/heaving several times a day and I never spotted) that I had with the girls made me think it was a boy, but part of me thought don't we just make girls?  I envisioned that little one in my arms asleep as we sat around the table at Thanksgiving and cuddled up in a beautiful blanket, warm and cozy in a carrier at our feet for Christmas Eve church service.  I was just so, so overwhelmed with gratefulness.

But...part of me knew I think.  I never worried I would lose the girls.  I just didn't, I don't know why.  For years before marriage (and I married at 21, so we're talking teenage years!!) my greatest fear was that I would be infertile.  Then, my babies came so easily (we never tried) so I just thought - everyone has their hardships in life, including me, but that wasn't one of them.  I was so thankful for that!!  I just never thought I would lose a baby.  But with this one, every time I went to the bathroom I would check for any spotting, even though I had only spotted a few times.  I would breathe a sigh of relief and think, "yes, stay in there little one, grow..." and I never thought like that when I was pregnant with the girls.  Why was I so scared?  I had a beautiful plaque I had found years ago at HomeGoods that said "God Bless This Baby" and I had been saving it to give to someone that would like it, it was kind of old-fashioned looking...I took it out and put it on my dresser and everytime I saw it I'd say a prayer of protection and thankfulness.

The week of spring break I was staying at my in-laws house because our home was having all of the flooring redone and the kitchen.  On April 11, a Wednesday evening going into Thursday April 12, I had terrible cramping all night long along with spotting again.  I hadn't spotted for a few weeks, and this time the spotting was a bit more and on the morning of the 12th, I saw red.

You never want to see red.

I called the doctor, but I really already knew.  Our appointment was at 2pm and Kevin met me there.  My MIL had the girls, thank God.  My cramping was so bad but I was scared to take anything bc what if everything was okay, maybe my uterus was just really growing?  Google said it was a possible reason for the cramping and spotting, but I knew.

Finally, FINALLY, the doctor comes in.  I had waited for an hour and I thought Kevin was going to punch someone.  I was curled on my side laying on the table crying when she came in, and she inserted the metal speculum (you guys know I'm not a big curser on my blog but what the fuck is up with that.  Really, metal?!  They can't invent something that can crank open the walls of your vagina that maybe is smooth and plastic?!  A man is in charge of this by the way, no doubt.  You think if a man had a vagina they wouldn't have found something better yet?!  Someday, I hope my girls only see a picture of such a thing, and they think, "wow, it used to be so barbaric...thank goodness I don't have to have one of those things come anywhere near me").

I digress.  It's my blog, I can if I want to.

So anyway, she cranked, it hurt like hell, and she saw the spotting.  She didn't say what I wanted her to, which was "your cervix looks nice and closed" as I had heard my few other visits.  She got the rolling prehistoric ultrasound cart, and said that she could see the sac, but it wasn't as big as it should be and couldn't see the heartbeat.  I was crying already but it got worse, and Kevin cried too bless his heart.  Then, because our insurance is a sweetheart (and we don't even have Obamacare yet!) we had to go to a different location (even though they have one right there) to get a higher tech ultrasound to confirm the loss.  Our appointment wasn't until 5:30 but I was crying at check-in and the woman knew why I was there, and said she had been through this too and that I would be okay.  I thought, no I won't, I'll never be okay again.  Anyway, she said she'd try to get us in asap, and we were in about 15 minutes later, 4-something I guess.  I was at a different u/s place this time, and so had a different tech.  She didn't say a word, and told me my doctor would have to give me the results so I'd have to get back in the damn car and wait again at the office.

It was a lovely experience, going back and forth, in tremendous physical and emotional pain, crying in front of old people at the imaging center just getting a scan of their broken hip or whatever, and then in front of about 50 pregnant women at our dr office, who weren't finding out that day that their baby died, and thanking God they weren't me.

Back at the office our dr brought us to a consult room (aka "you will hear bad news here") and told us that the baby had died, it didn't have a heartbeat.  Her words were really just a formality, bc I knew, but you still hold out a bit of hope I guess until you hear it for real, bc more tears started flowing, harder, and Kevin looked like someone stabbed his stomach.  She then said the sac was low, and bc I was already in such pain my miscarriage was probably imminent and I could either go naturally or I could get a d&c.  I chose to go natural - just meaning letting my body do it, bc I took a full dose of Advil and Percocet the minute the prescription was filled.

This was April 12, which I have not mentioned yet was Kevin's 33rd birthday.  In the car after our appointment outside the CVS while Kevin was filling that Rx for me, I called 2 of my friends who knew I was going for that appointment and were praying for me.  I told them I lost the baby, and they were both crying, and they let me yell and one of the things I said was, "tell me, doesn't it seem downright cruel of God, that He has taken our baby away and it is Kevin's BIRTHDAY?!" and she said, "yes, honey, yes it does seem cruel..." And it did.

We called our parents, which was one of the worst things I've ever done.  But the worst was to come, telling our precious, innocent girls.  That will have to be another post.

It is April 20 today, over a week since that has happened.  Already I have felt comfort and healing, so although my emotions as I write this blog seem raw and angry - and they are - I have about a million emotions, that yes, encompass feelings like confusion, sadness, rage but also...acceptance, hope, and a lot, A LOT of love.

just didn't want you to think I was going to go all metal-speculum on someone and do some damage.  I am okay, and our family is struggling but healing, already.  We've already had some laughter again, and joy.  Isn't that amazing, as a week ago, I wondered if for the rest of my life I would feel incomplete and sad.

I just wish I had my baby.