First, I will preface this post with this---this is raw emotion, morphine induced, and hard to write--- but I have to release this to move on. Sorry for the graphic details- sorry if I cuss.
When we lose someone, regardless of how long we knew them it is hard. I have had several losses in my life... My dad, grandmother, friends, students...babies. No matter it is hard.
With this loss I am angry. Not at God, or anyone--- just how things have turned out in the past couple days.
Tuesday I woke up snuggling my husband, talking about the maternity clothes I purchased on EBay. We laughed and he rubbed my belly. I felt like the luckiest woman in the world. I have an amazing husband, great kids and a baby on the way. I had really started to show. My neighbor stopped me on Monday and asked me if I was pregnant and I said yes- glowing. We were adjusting to this idea of having a new baby. Getting excited as the time progresses. Almost 12 weeks, time flies.
Wednesday everything is going great, feeling good and I go to bed. I wake up at two in the morning and realize I forgot to take a medication... I take it and go to the restroom--- oh my God. Blood. I lay back down scared, wake my husband up and tell him whats going on and I cry. My gut is sick, I am scared, hopeless.
Thursday is a nightmare. I go to the OBGYN and tell him what happened. He gets out the Doppler and tries to find the baby's heartbeat--- some hope for a second and no heartbeat is found. I don't understand. We had a solid heartbeat at seven weeks. I JUST had blood work and everything was fine. Why? I cry- I can't stop. The doctor tells me that sometimes they can't pick up the heartbeat on the Doppler at 12 weeks--- HOPE--- so an ultrasound is scheduled in 15 minutes.
Get to the ultrasound... The tech shows us our baby's leg, foot, arm, hands--- perfect baby....then she says the words that will haunt me forever... I don't see the flicker that shows the baby's heart is beating. I break down. Why the fuck did you make a point to show me my perfect baby with NO heartbeat? Did you think it would be easier for me to cope? I hope she never has the same problem, I would not want someone to be as cruel to her as she was to us.
My baby died. My baby DIED. I only knew him (or her) in my belly for almost 12 weeks, but it was our baby. A baby I will never get to hold or cuddle. A baby that I will always love.
I had to make a decision to have the miscarriage happen naturally or have a D&C. I had a horrible miscarriage in 2007 where I ended up being rushed by ambulance to the ER and still had to have a D&C. I scheduled the D&C for the afternoon. I was sent immediately to the surgery center. Phillip was amazing. He told me he loved me and we would be ok. He reminded me of our amazing kids, and how lucky we are. He told me I did nothing wrong, nature was protecting our baby from something seriously wrong. He is truly a gift from God. Told me not to apologize for crying, or getting mad... He cried with me.
The surgery was supposed to be easy, but it wasn't. The medicine the gave me afterwards to stop the bleeding actually caused my arteries around my heart to contact, which sent me to the cardiac floor for the night. I am still here as I write, waiting to get the hell out.
I am better, but I am not emotionally fine yet. I am grieving. I will just randomly cry, especially when i think of all the what-ifs.
Though this horrible tragedy I have realized that I have an amazing family... My sisters and my mom all came to be with me and help... Alex is amazing, I cannot tell you how wonderful she is... She helped with the kids yesterday and came to see me last night. Kennith is so compassionate, he wants me home to snuggle. My friends have been there for me.
I know in this situation there is nothing that feels right to say, believe me.
What I carry with me as I go home...hope...faith... And I sing, knowing my baby is in his grandma great's arms....
Our God is an awesome God he reigns from Heaven above with wisdom power and love our God is an awesome God.
The song I would sing with my granny... A way of releasing my baby into her comforting arms, knowing that someday we will see each other again.