On Love and Loss

This is a post I hoped I would never have to write, and yet here I am writing it. Some days I hope that I will wake up and it will be a bad dream, but I know that is not the truth. [FYI there will be some talk about women’s cycles here, if you think that is TMI, then you probably should stop reading]

Plato2

Nick and I have an agreement, when we are going out and there will be drinks I will take a pregnancy test, just in case. Well we were pleasantly surprised when I took one on August 10 and it came out positive. The more the news sat with me, the more excited I became. Of course there are always fears when you go from one child to two, but I was giddy.

We shared the news with our close family and friends, only a handful, and they were just as excited as we are.

I came up with wonderful ideas for this years Christmas card and how we would share the news with everyone who didn’t know yet. I started thinking of ways to organize the guest room/nursery, and how to reorganize the downstairs and B’s room.

Then just as quickly as the first trimester nausea came, it left. For a week I didn’t tell anyone, and then I finally told Nick. I came up with reasons, chasing a toddler is exhausting and I wouldn’t notice the nausea. I wasn’t teaching 8th graders that had a hard time with understanding personal hygiene. Every pregnancy is different. But I knew, I just knew something was off. I really think I just didn’t want to admit it. {I think this article really reinforced what I was thinking}

This past weekend, I participated in a Sprint Tri with a group from my gym. I was only doing the run portion, which turned into more of a walk. About a half mile in to the 3.5 miles, I started having a cramp on the front of my stomach. It was weird and freaked me out. I walked until the last .2 miles of the race. I felt like I let my relay team down, but I also had already started worrying about the cramp.

Saturday night, I felt fine. Sunday during the day I felt fine. Sunday evening I noticed some brown spotting in my underwear. Not enough to be concerned, pregnant woman can spot through their entire pregnancy and have a healthy baby.

Then it started turning bright red. At this point it was 9 pm, B was in bed, and I was freaking out. I called my dad who was an OBGYN before he went into anesthesiology. He tried to sugar coat it, but pretty much told me red was bad. I called the OB’s office emergency line and they told me to sit tight. My first appointment for this pregnancy with my OB was the following morning at 9 am.

I tried not to google, but I couldn’t stop myself. Nothing was looking good. Nick and I decided to prepare for the worst but hope for the best.

I went to my doctor appointment and told the nurse what was going on, she decided to have me go get an ultrasound done before I met with the doctor. This was my first vaginal ultrasound, and it was uncomfortable, but I watched the screen as the tech took pictures. I knew the moment the images popped up that the baby was too small for what was supposed to be 8 weeks. Then I watched her try to get a heartbeat, nothing. I couldn’t look anymore. I stared at the ceiling until she was finished, willing myself to not cry in front of a complete and total stranger. She told me the baby was measuring small and that as soon as the radiologist looked at the images and talked to my doctor then the doctor would call me.

The nurse told me they were unsure if the pregnancy was still viable. I needed to have blood work and schedule another ultrasound for the following week. After that was all set, I brought Nick and B home and went out.

I couldn’t stay in the house. I got coffee, I went grocery shopping. I walked around aimlessly at the store. I just needed to be alone, but with strangers, if that makes sense.

I was hoping I was wrong. I hadn’t had any cramps yet. The bleeding hadn’t gotten any worse. I was afraid to go to the bathroom, I was afraid to see what I wasn’t ready to admit.

Finally, I came home, and used the bathroom. I had started cramping, and there were clots, lots of them. I couldn’t move. I started crying. I knew I had lost the baby. {and I hate that word lost, like it reinforces that I did something wrong}

Nick called the doctor and we got the official news. Based on my blood work the pregnancy was not viable and I would have to let things run their course, and if they didn’t then I would need to schedule a d&c.

Nick was amazing, he called the majority of those who knew to tell them the bad news. He comforted me, he took care of B, he was the strength that I needed. I can’t even put into words, how much comfort he has brought to me in this time of need. He is/has been the most compassionate and caring person.

My heart and soul.

My heart and soul.

It’s hard for me to not blame myself, what could I have done differently so that this baby would survive? What if I stopped working out? What if I didn’t run on Saturday? What if I had a different diet? Maybe I shouldn’t have had any coffee…the what if’s and blame games are endless. A friend told me, as moms we fall in love with that pink second pink line. It’s not easier to have a miscarriage at 8 weeks just because it is an early miscarriage. Every time I go to the bathroom I am reminded of what is happening. Every time I have a cramp, I know that my body is taking the natural course, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

I’m incredibly sad, but I am trying to be strong for B. He needs a mom who is present with him, and I need to not let this take me over. I am blessed with B, but we do want more children, and I know that some do not have the option to have even one child, I am not taking him for granted, but I am allowing myself to grieve over baby #2.

I am also saying the words that have scared me for as long as I can remember. I had a miscarriage.

{As you can imagine, I am not feeling the blogging/social media thing, it has helped me to put all my thoughts down, and tell those that I just didn’t have the heart to call and tell the story all over again. For now, I am taking a break, save for the already written posts and scheduled tweets. Thank you for understanding.}

how do you mourn a lost relationship?

Forgive me today, My mind is all over the place, and therefore my words are too. Typically I don’t read blogs that are all happy all the time. I also don’t like being a downer or complainer, but sometimes our emotions get the best of us. Let me also preface this with saying that friend relationships are completely different than romantic relationships, and this isn’t geared toward that at all