I Just Had A Miscarriage…

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I just had a miscarriage…..

Writing these words doesn’t make it seem any more real. Almost as if I am documenting someone else’s heartbreaking journey.

I was one of those women that waited to share the news, “just in case,” but never actually thought it would happen to me. We finally decided to announce our pregnancy on my personal Facebook page at 11 weeks pregnant, because we figured we were in the “safe zone”. Then just a few days later I started to bleed.

At first, it was just spotting. I called my doctor, and there was absolutely no concern- why would there be? Many, many women spot or bleed- especially during the first trimester. They had me come in for a mini Rhogam shot since I have an RH- blood type, but that was it. No searching for a heartbeat, no talking with a doctor or nurse, nothing. They acted as if everything was perfectly normal. So it must be perfectly normal, right?

Then that night, I started bleeding heavier. At this point, I am already completely freaking out. I didn’t bleed a drop with my first pregnancy from conception ’til delivery. Through PAP smears, cervix checks, and ultrasounds: absolutely no blood.

So I’m thinking: this pregnancy has already been night and day from my first. I’ll just take it easy and it will be fine. I have an ultrasound in 2 weeks, and we will see our happy, bouncing baby.

After several more worried calls to the hospital’s advice line over the next few days, I finally woke up in the middle of the night with contractions.

Silently and in the dark, I started tracking them in my pregnancy app…. 30 second contractions consistently 2 minutes apart and growing with intensity. My heart absolutely dropped….

After nearly an hour of tracking, I get the courage the wake my husband and tell him, “I think we are losing the baby.”

Once again, I call the advice line and am somehow able to explain what is happening between sobs. She manages to calm me down, and fill me with a bit of hope. She believes I may have some type of infection, and that is what can be causing the bleeding, and can also cause contractions. She tells me to lay low and schedules an appointment with my doctor in the morning.

My stomach knew what was coming, but my heart was filled with hope. Believing with every fiber of my being I will see my baby moving around in the morning, and I’d walk out with a prescription for antibiotics.

Walking into the office the next morning with my husband and mom by my side was pure torture. We sat in the waiting room with other couples and their big baby bumps, laughing and rubbing their bellies without a care in the world. When I was finally called back, I sobbed explaining my symptoms over the last few days. Then my doctor came into the room.

She was all smiles, and instantly put my mind at ease. She took the time to listen and assured me that there were many reasons for my symptoms, and that we would figure it out together. It was time for the ultrasound.

With the screen turned away from us, she started the ultrasound.

And we waited…

And waited….

Waited….

“So…. Pickett, I don’t see a heartbeat….”

My world came crashing down. I don’t know what happened next, but I cried and couldn’t breathe. Little did I know, these seven words would haunt me everyday. It is these words that replay in my head at 3am, in the shower, every time I put pants on. I don’t know how I will handle hearing her voice again at my follow up appointment this week.

Someone’s voice that once held incredible memories. Telling me “there’s your baby!” “can you hear the heartbeat?!” and walking me through the delivery of my first child. Her voice now is like nails on a chalkboard in my mind.

I tune in long enough for her to explain that my baby stopped growing at 8.5 weeks, and there were signs of abnormalities.

3.5 weeks…. that’s how long I carried my baby without a heartbeat. How could I have not known? It was just two weeks ago that I pulled out my maternity pants. Each day I rubbed my belly and said I love you. I was just looking at baby registry items….

How can a mother not know?

I decided to have a D&C procedure done, because I knew I would not be able to handle seeing/passing my baby at home.

Thankfully, they were able to schedule me in for the same day, and I am even more thankful for how much they doped me up during the procedure.

Recovery has been rough physically, and even worse emotionally.

Every day, I have received products in the mail for my holiday gift guide that were supposed to be for my baby and expectant mother sections. I have finally had to have my husband open all packages and set aside any that are for the baby. It helps, but my heart still aches each time he places another package in the hall closet, knowing who it was supposed to be for….

I don’t sleep anymore. Not like I used to. And if I do, I wake up an hour later. I didn’t eat for days, I let the house go to shit. Hearing a baby cry makes me bawl no matter where I am, and I’m still f***ing bleeding.

My maternity pants are finally too big, but not because I have a baby in my arms… And I still test positive on pregnancy tests.

I don’t know how women are strong enough to deal with this, but one thing that everyone has said has been true. It does get better.

Each day a little easier than the next. I have now gone 24 hours without crying, and I was able to smile at a baby yesterday. I have the best support system in the world, an incredible partner, and a toddler that I absolutely love to death.

Each day truly is getting better. This little baby will be forever loved and remembered, but I can’t wait to move onto happier and better days.