I’m at a loss
This past Friday, my husband and I walked into my new OBGYN office to meet the doctor that would hopefully, eventually, deliver our baby.
I was 8 weeks pregnant, and excited as we talked medical history, and she told me what foods to avoid, how often I’d see her and the other doctor, and that I’d get a packet when I left the office with all the information I needed about the hospital I’d deliver at, the classes I could take, and pregnancy in general.
Then she took us into the ultrasound room. She took a routine Pap smear, then did an internal exam. Everything was OK so far. She took the wand and turned on the ultrasound machine. Mike stood beside me and I tried not to hold my breath.
Just the week before, we saw our baby’s heartbeat flutter on the screen and it was quite possibly one of the most amazing, touching things I had ever seen. It suddenly became real; LIFE was growing inside me. It felt so much bigger than anything, ever, in my life.
The tech gave me three pictures as a souvenir, this is one of them:
On Friday, my doctor pointed out the yolk sac, the baby and said everything looked good but then she quieted. And she stopped. “I can’t find the heartbeat,” she said. My heart sunk. “I’m sorry,” she said.
She sent us next door to a radiology center for follow-up abdominal and internal ultrasounds that confirmed what she’d found. Our baby had stopped developing. Probably less than a week before our appointment.
I was crushed. Absolutely crushed.
Suddenly, instead of breastfeeding or formula…Huggies or Pampers…I was being asked to decide between a D&C and natural miscarriage. I went from seeing an ultrasound, to receiving sympathy arrangements at my door.
I didn’t hesitate when the doctor gave me a choice; I chose natural miscarriage.
So now I am waiting. I am still suffering from fatigue and morning sickness, sore breasts and the highs and lows of cravings and food aversions, because the placenta hasn’t gotten the memo yet that the baby doesn’t need it anymore and my hormones are still sky high.
Suffering from morning sickness is no picnic. Suffering from morning sickness when you can’t rationalize that it means baby is sucking the life out of you to grow a bad ass brain is terribly sad.
This past weekend has been a wait-and-see game and I’m weary. I’m weary of waiting. I went from praying I didn’t see any blood every time I went to the bathroom, to praying I see blood now, every time I go to the bathroom. A friend suggested I try red raspberry leaf tea to help move things along. I’m trying it.
My husband is upset. I can tell the loss of our first baby is not lost on him. But he is being my rock, an amazing support. Running out to get me tea, running out to get my prescription and a bag full of Big Macs and French fries at 10 p.m.
Having a miscarriage is not pretty when it comes to who I am, either. I don’t like who I am right now.
Another beauty blogger posted in a Facebook group that she is pregnant. I instantly hated her. That should be me, in less than four weeks, I thought, sharing the news. I don’t really hate her, but I am insanely sad and jealous and seeing all the congrats on her post made me cry.
One of my good friends is very early pregnant. I can’t bear to talk to her. We were pregnant together, something we’d joked about happening. And it happened. But then my baby died. And now I am terrified to even talk to her, I might cry. I certainly can’t be happy for her right now.
I’m not proud of how I feel, but I know time will heal my wounds. This is NOT who I am. I am not a jealous person.
I know that after this is over, there’s no reason to think Mike and I won’t have our “rainbow baby,” which is what they call the successful pregnancy after a miscarriage. We will try again. I am hopeful for our future and know that we will be amazing parents when the time comes.
I know in time I won’t be jealous of other women who are about as pregnant as I was. I know that things will be OK.
Mike and I will get through this together.
But for now, I’m angry. I’m sad. I’m unmotivated. I’m grieving.
I’m sharing this with you because it’s helping me heal. I’m sitting here, waiting for my body to naturally move things along and it’s torture. I needed an outlet. I needed to write down everything I’m feeling.
I also know, from being open about this on my personal Facebook page, that there are SO MANY WOMEN who have been through this. SO MANY WOMEN who have had beautiful children after suffering one, two, three miscarriages. Their stories make me admire my friends and family more than ever, and makes me feel just a tiny bit less alone, and gives me that hope I have for the next time.
Thank you for letting me share this with you. XO
I will be back to regularly scheduled posting as soon as I’m feeling up to it.