I've been contemplating publishing this post for a few days, but decided it was ok to share this part of my life with you all. So here goes:
I believe it’s impossible to ever forget a great loss in your life. No matter how much you try to tuck away those awful memories, the scars still remain. Often times when I think my wounds have healed; something comes along and opens them. It stings. One of those times is approaching and I wasn’t excepting it to sting this badly.
It was this time last year I found out I was pregnant with my second child. A sweet little surprise from God, but a welcomed gift nonetheless. I was a little apprehensive because of some personal issues, but I was excited to be a mom to another precious angel, no matter the circumstances. I couldn’t wait to go to the doctor and hear the little heartbeat and see the little “bean” on the ultrasound. I was also excited for Avery to become a big brother.
I was waiting to tell my family until I had my first doctor’s appointment on July 13th, 2010. As any mom can probably testify, it doesn’t feel “real” until you go to the doctor and have your pregnancy confirmed. I was no different. I was so ready for that date to come I could hardly stand it.
It was the morning of July 12th, 2010 that my life changed. I woke up that morning and felt fine. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary besides being the normal preggo tired. I got in the shower and noticed some blood. I wasn't too alarmed at first because it’s not completely uncommon for a woman to spot during pregnancy. I cried out to God and prayed and prayed for it to quit. Still not trying to get too upset, I got ready for work, got Avery ready, and headed out the door. The bleeding seemed to subside and I just kept telling myself it was normal spotting. When I got to work, things changed. I’ll spare you the details, but I knew something wasn’t right. I began to cramp really bad. By this time my OB’s office was open and I called right away. The nurse told me to go straight to the ER. I was hysterical at this point. I called my family and told them to get to the hospital. My co-worker offered to drive me to the hospital, but I knew if I didn’t drive myself, I was going to completely lose what little composure I had left.
I checked into the hospital and they began drawing blood, giving me IV’s, asking a million questions, and so forth. My mind was racing and my worst fear was coming true. An ultrasound tech came in and took me back. Having had a baby before, I knew what it should sound like. I knew I’d hear a lot of swooshing sounds and then I should hear a little heartbeat. I never heard a heartbeat. The tech never changed her facial expression, no smile, no frown; just a complete stare at the monitor. I asked her if my baby was alive and she told me she wasn’t allowed to diagnose anything. She then stepped out of the room and the radiologist came in and took a few more pictures.
It was the longest day of my life. Deep down I knew my sweet baby had gone to be with Jesus, but my heart kept praying it was just a rare fluke. The ER doctor came in later and confirmed my fears and told me he believed the pregnancy was atopic. He ordered me to go to my OB for more test. I was released from the hospital and headed to my OB. She did another ultrasound and ran more blood work. She was able to rule out an atopic pregnancy and said the mass on my tube was a cyst. My hCG level was still pretty high so she sent me home to continue the miscarriage process and ordered me back in the next day to check my levels again. Luckily, my levels were significantly lower the next day and no other treatment was necessary.
I still have a hard time with the entire miscarriage process. It feels so insincere. I know that there wasn't anything else that could have been done and the baby was so small that the naked eye couldn't have seen it, but it's hard not to feel like I flushed my child down the toilet. I miss my sweet baby every day. I often wonder what he/she would have looked liked or what name would have been chosen. I think about how Avery would have been the sweetest big brother and how precious it would have been to see these two bond. I find my peace in knowing that my angel baby never knew pain or evil and lives with our Redeemer in Heaven. I know Jesus holds my sweet baby tightly and that gives me a peace like no other. A piece of my heart died on July 12th, 2010 and I will never be the same. No matter how preciously small, the loss of a baby will change you forever. I look forward to the day when I'm able to see my precious angels face and give all the kisses and hugs I've longed to give my baby, but until then, when the wind blows, I know it's my guardian angel passing me by.