My Story Part 1: The Worst Thing

What you are about to read is deeply personal.

I have set down to write this post so many times and spent probably hours planning it out it my head. I have been dying to put this all to paper and have received lots of encouragement from others to do so. Please understand that I am not writing this to receive sympathy or gain attention in any way. I honestly just feel like I have to... I don't know how else to explain it other than that. As it turns out, the story you know better than any other story, the story you still go over and over in your head every day since you first experienced it, is the most difficult one to tell. This will be my effort.

Ty and I found out we were going to be parents in July. Elated. We were so happy. And terrified. And all of those other overwhelming emotions that come with finding out you will be parents the first time. For one thing, it was a stressful time for us financially. I was in the first year of owning my own business- my dream. Around the same time, Ty's hours had been reduced at work. Still, we knew we had literally an army of love and support around us, so we would be okay. We were so excited that we told friends and family immediately. We didn't wait until 12 weeks, I know, I know, but everyone's reaction made me realize why. We were so eager to celebrate with everyone. Ty even bought a journal and starting writing letters to our sweet pea, so she would have them when she grew up, telling her all about the pregnancy and what was going on in our lives. 

You know that thing people say- "a woman becomes a mother the second she finds out she is pregnant"? I can't speak for other people, but that statement was completely true for me. Despite the difficulties we were experiencing, I loved and wanted my sweet baby more than I have ever loved or wanted anything. Even when I felt nauseous all day every day for a month. Even when I was throwing up. Even when none of my favorite foods tasted good to me anymore. Even when my body got weird. It was okay because it was the greatest love I had ever known. I was a mom. I made the decision to close my business so that I would have more time at home with the baby and with my family. The lease was up on my building about this time, so I had to make a decision pretty quickly. The store was doing fine financially, but as it had only been open a year, it hadn't had the time it needed to become profitable yet. I made sacrifices because there was something I wanted so much more. I made a choice. 

On August 29th, I was eleven weeks and four days along, almost completely out of the scary first trimester. We went to hear our sweet baby's heartbeat for the first time. This was the day I would come to replay in my head every day for the next 4 months (yeah, I'm still doing it). We sat in that doctor's waiting room for what felt like hours. I was so excited and nervous. Everyone told me not to freak out if they couldn't find the heartbeat right away because sometimes it takes a while. We finally got called back, and sure enough, our doctor was having trouble finding the heartbeat. She didn't seem worried though, and reassured us that it happens all the time. She left us and went to get an ultrasound room ready. After her reassuring words and thinking back to all the stories I had heard, I wasn't really worried either. I quickly got dressed and we headed to the ultrasound room, where there is a monitor that is literally the size of the wall. The ultra sound tech started to do her thing, and when she moved the probe over my sweet baby I immediately realized something was wrong. She confirmed my fears quickly and said she was so sorry. She left Ty and I alone in the room where I lay sobbing. My sweet husband didn't understand what she had said, as she hadn't been very explicit. I had to explain to him that our poor baby was gone. We went into a room where they scheduled my D&C for the following morning. The next hours are a blur of tears and hopelessness. Even now, I have tears in my eyes as I write just thinking about that day and the ones to follow. 

My procedure was scheduled for first thing the next morning, so we had to be there bright and early. Do you know the worst thing about being at that women's hospital? Everyone you see going and coming is either pregnant or has a baby. If you have not experienced this first hand, you can never understand how hard it is to sit in that waiting room patiently while every bone in your body is yelling for you to get the hell out of that awful place. They all have the one thing you want, the thing that was taken away from you too soon. Ty helped me into my gown as I cried and cried for my baby. As I lay in pre-op waiting on the nurse and anesthesiologist, with just a curtain to separate us, I listened to the lady next to me who was hooked up to what seemed like the loudest fetal heart monitor of all time. It just reminded me my baby's heart would never beat. I cried some more. The IV they gave me before my procedure knocked me out quickly, thank goodness. I just wanted all the pain to stop. I wanted to wake up and have it all be over. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. When they woke me up after my procedure, I was still pretty out of it, but I remember crying and crying for them to put my baby back inside of me. I wanted her back so much, however irrational it might seem. 

The next two weeks consisted of a lot of resting and periodically bursting into tears. (Actually, that still happens, though considerably less.) I ran a fever for a few days, which the hospital dismissed, but other than that it seemed like I was physically okay until about 10 days after my surgery. I began experiencing a lot of pain and bleeding. We informed the doctor but didn't go back until my 2 week surgery follow-up appointment. The doctor guessed that there was some tissue they had missed and gave me a pill to take care of it. Well, instead, by that night I was experiencing the most intense pain of my life. What the doctor had failed to mention was that the little pill would cause intense contractions while trying to expel the tissue. Not knowing what was going on, we went to the ER. By this time not only was I experiencing excruciating pain, but I was loosing a lot of blood. Two days, one more D&C procedure, and a blood transfusion later, I was back home with a 6 week recovery ahead of me. That made the total physical recovery period for the loss I experienced 8 weeks long. 

The emotional recovery that would follow is another chapter entirely--one I will be posting about tomorrow, so please check back if you feel so inclined. I will be sharing more about our journey and where we are now. Thank you for reading.