hello. I don’t know if anyone will ever read this. Or if one of my five followers will. I haven’t written for years. I was in a very sad place. Five months after my last miscarriage I got pregnant again. I couldn’t get back on here and write those words. That would jinx me. And then I had my baby. My beautiful, healthy, baby girl. And I forgot all about this tiny space online I had to write anything. Until tonight. While I lay in bed with my 2 1/2 year old waiting to sneak out of her room again. I thought, maybe someone wonders what ever happened. Maybe not. But I decided to log on and let the world, or my five followers, or anyone else that stumbles upon this know the end. The end to this story. I had two sweet babies that I never got to hold. I have one that I hold every chance I get. If you are reading this because you’ve lost. I am so sorry. From the bottom of my soul kind of sorry. I grieve my babies often. I can see every high and low of each pregnancy like it’s a movie I’ve seen a thousand times. It’s still the same hurt. And I am so very sorry. I hope being that I got a happy ending gives you a little bit of hope. I also know there’s a chance the pain is so fresh and so numbing that you can’t see hope. It takes time. For me I was sad and obsessed until I was pregnant again. Looking back I’m sure that didn’t help. I get it. It’s fucked up. There’s no better way to say it. It’s fucked up! If you are in that place. I will have the hope for you. I will pray for your happy ending.
My husband loves to hunt! I don’t really understand why. I grew up in the city and before I met him, I never even knew someone that went hunting. The first time I went to his house, I walked into the living room and screamed! He had two deer heads on his wall. The just starred at me. I was afraid to touch them, it felt like they could still bite me. He thought my reaction was hilarious. After a while I got used to them. I later named them Cheech and Chong and would decorate them with Christmas ornaments each year. Then with terrible towels during football season. I still don’t understand what’s fun about killing an animal but he likes it and has always done it every year in November.
So, each weekend in November I have time to myself. I miss him when he goes but I am happy he gets to go because he works so hard. Last Friday he left right after work and drove about four hours north to his camp. I was laying in bed, watching TV and I felt it. “I’m ovulating” I said. I couldn’t believe it. Seriously? When john is gone! I went into the bathroom and took an ovulation test. Positive. I went back to my bed and cried. I cried so hard. It kind of came out of nowhere. It just felt like another disappointment. Of course the second my husband got home on Sunday we did it. I just hoped and hoped it wasn’t too late.
I wish I was able to type on this blog that I did end up getting pregnant. Unfortunately I am not. This feels like torture. Time just keeps passing. Its like I’m stuck. I’m stuck in time. Frozen. Since my first baby died, I don’t enjoy anything anymore. I have always loved Christmas. But this year, I cant wait for it to be over. I already decided I don’t want a Christmas tree and I’m not sending out cards. I just don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to become myself again. Its like there is no one to talk to. At first everyone feels so bad and is there no matter what but after a few weeks, everyone else is over it. Everyone except me. Everyday I think about what happened. I think about my future and no children being in it. I pretend like I’m okay because I know everyone is sick of hearing it. But here I am. Heartbroken. People that haven’t experienced this, do not understand. Not even a little bit. Just because I never got to hold my baby doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt just as much as if I had.
I hate when people ask if we are going to have kids soon. I guess it’s a normal question but it stings when you’ve had miscarriages. I know most of these people don’t know what has happen but it still hurts. All we can ever say is “we’re trying”. It’s always the same. “Oh well trying is the best part, ha ha”. Really? Gross? Now everyone just thought of me and John having sex. And, it is not the best part for me. It’s a constant reminder that I’m a failure. There really isn’t anything fun about it. I feel terrible saying that. I love my husband but it’s just so much pressure. Then I lay there forever! Hoping I’m giving them time to find the egg. After that I look at the calendar everyday. I know exactly when I should get my period. I over analyze every little pain. I think, is that the egg attaching to the uterine lining? This is so not the way its supposed to be. Then each month I get my period. Disappointed. Again.
So I did get a reason for my second miscarriages. I guess a lot of the time there is no reason. This baby had 3 chromosomes of number 13. There should have only been two. Some babies that have this genetic mutation actually survive to be born. In most cases those babies won’t live past 24 hours. 95% of the time this is inherited. Ours was not. Again something very rare. I’m told its next to impossible that will happen again. Well I was told that with the last one. So whats the next super rare thing that we will experience? Struck by lightening? Hit the lottery? All I want is a healthy baby. I used to want to have three kids, or at least two. Now I will totally settled for one! Just one healthy baby. Gender doesn’t matter either.
Here I am today, writing this Blog. I am not yet pregnant again. We are currently trying. I don’t really know what to think. I try to be positive. Truthfully, I don’t believe I will ever have children. The other day I googled reasons why not to have children. The reasons are all wonderful. All the money you will save, sleeping in, etc. There were 100 reasons. The thing is, as great as those all sound, I know having a child is so much better than those reasons combined. So I will continue to try and continue to hope. I am 33 years old, I don’t have much time left.
When I got to the hospital the next morning I felt like a zombie. I was so tired and worn out. My husband carried the baby in the container, in a brown paper bag. This time it felt like we had to wait forever. I explained to everyone that came in, I didn’t think I needed the D and C and that the baby was in that bag. I don’t think anyone believed me because they just kept moving forward. It took three different people and seven attempts to get the damn IV in my arm. Then my doctor finally came in and she looked in the bag. She said I did pass it and there was no reason for a D and C. Wow really? Duh! They labeled the bag and took the baby away and said she would call with the results. Empty.
The next few weeks I laid in bed all day and cried. This time was so much harder than last time.
It was two weeks later and I was 8 weeks now. It seemed like this was going to take forever. I just couldn’t wait to have that little baby in my arms. It was a Tuesday night around 8:30 and I felt cramping. There was also a very little bit of blood in the toilet. I laid in my bed and cried. I cried silently, just let the tears roll out of my eyes. I wasn’t ready to crush my husbands heart again. I wasnt ready to say out loud what I already knew was happening. Please god, please don’t let it happen again.
The next morning I went in for an ultrasound. My husband came this time. As we waited for them to call my name, i was fulled with anger. I wanted to hit someone. My husband was so positive. He was sure everything was fine. They finally called us back. I changed into the gown and she started the ultrasound. It was gone. My little peanuts heartbeat was gone.
I started to cry hysterically and shake. My husband squeezed me hand. Again? How could this happen again? At this point my chest was empty. I couldn’t stop crying. Another D and C was scheduled for the next morning. I cried the who;e way home. For the rest of the day I just cried. what else do you do. It was like someone stole my soul.
That night my husband fell asleep about 10:30pm. Around 11:00pm I start to have intense cramping. I never experienced anything like it. The pain was unbearable. I was so hot and sweaty. I ripped off my clothes and paced back and forth in the bathroom. I couldn’t stand but I also couldn’t sit. I had my doctor paged and asked her if I could take anything. She told me I could take Motrin. She also explained that I may be having the miscarriage. The plan was to have genetic testing done on the baby. she told me if the baby came out I would have to put it in a container of water and take it to the hospital. I stood in the shower crying and hold my stomach and then it happened. My baby came out. It was so small. I was so sad. No one should have to do this. No one should have to see this. I filled a tiny container of water and put it inside. This was how I got to hold my baby. The cramps finally stopped and a few hours when I could cry no more I drifted to sleep.