I've debated posting this. Should I even bother hitting submit at the end? Do I really want to be possibly vulnerable in front of people that don't care about me or that I don't know? Honestly, at this point in my life.. I don't really have the fear of what people think. My goal is to live my life in a way that makes myself proud so that I don't have to provide justification to those around me. That might sound conceited, but it's more about keeping myself in check. You can't lie to yourself, truly. Try it. That feeling you get in your stomach when you know something isn't true? You can't avoid that. I give myself that test all the time and it's always accurate.
I've debated posting this because it's not socially correct. I'm supposed to pretend that it never happened and no one is supposed to find out save from my close friends. I'm supposed to pretend it never happened and just forget. I can't though and I don't want to. I truly believe I need this to move on and I encourage anyone reading that has gone through this to reach out to me so I don't feel so alone. Honestly, I welcome it (if you are in fact out there).
On February 24th, I found out I was pregnant. I was absolutely estatic. It's something we had been trying for since October and it felt like it was never going to happen. I was ecstatic, but I was also pretty cautious. The pregnancy test was extremely light, but I figured it was just early and that it would darken quickly and that everything would be fine. Nothing bad could happen to me and certainly not my baby. So, we celebrated. I told my mom and she quickly told my side of the family. I even told some of my coworkers. I told my best friend.
Over the next few days, I kept taking tests. Surely, if the hormones were increasing as they should my tests would at least darken a little bit? And they did, but not by much. Something seemed off.. it didn't feel right. Finally, I called the doctor on thursday, February 27th and asked them to do a blood draw because my pregnancy tests were so light. First, they insisted that I take one of their pregnancy tests (less sensitive than what I was using). It was negative. The nurses looked at me like I was crazy and seeking attention.. until I pulled out my phone and showed her a picture of my positive pregnancy test on a first response test. So, they took a blood sample. I will tell you that I absolutely can't stand this clinic. At this point, I was so anxious and scared and I had to practically beg for my test results every time they took my blood. On Friday, I got the call and they told me that I was in fact pregnant. My HCG was only 24. The nurse didn't sound worried so for a moment I wasn't either. I was excited that I wasn't crazy. Literally, as soon as the phone call ended I started spotting. Immediately, my confidence was shattered. It was very light so I convinced myself that it was implantation bleeding and since it went away I tried to ignore it. But I was anxious and scared that whole weekend.
On Monday, they had me do another blood draw to confirm the levels were doubling as they should. By this point, my HCG should have been 96. After another long day, I finally got a call on Tuesday and it wasn't good. My level was 51. I was at work at the time and I lost it. I couldn't believe (although I knew something was wrong the whole time) that I was going to miscarry. Miscarriages only happen to other people, not me. I had to leave work because I couldn't hold it together that day. I didn't even make it out the door gracefully. Part of me tried to hold on to hope but as soon as I made it home, Kyle and I tried to feel for the baby (spiritually) and we knew that he was gone. We both believed it was a boy all along.
I didn't actually miscarry until Friday 07 Mar 2014. I had been miserable all week knowing that what should have been a living baby was no longer alive and that I was carrying it. It didn't seem right. We were getting ready to leave for a cruise on Saturday so I was just hoping that it would happen beforehand in case something went wrong. Finally, on Friday morning I woke up out of a dead sleep in excruciating pain. I won't go into gruesome details but as soon as it was gone I started to feel better. It happened so quickly and then it was over.
I have been pretty conflicted ever since this happened. I am sad for the future baby that I lost. I know it wasn't much at that point, but what it was supposed to be was ripped away from me. That will always hurt my heart. I'm happy that my body recognized something was wrong and knew what to do. I am terrified that if and when we do get pregnant again that I will have to live through this horrendous experience again. I feel broken when I see everyone around me getting pregnant and having what seems like flawless pregnancies without even trying. I feel broken when I am hassled about when Kyle and I are going to have kids because people have no idea of the hell we have gone through. Most importantly, I feel hope. I feel hope that our journey as parents has merely just begun. I feel hope and faith in the fact that we will have a healthy pregnancy and child. Every time I hear someone bitch about their pregnancy symptoms or even people that don't want to be pregnant, I have to swallow an ocean of bitterness. They have no idea how quick I would trade places with them if it meant I wouldn't have lost a child.
I am not afraid to speak out about our experience, our child, our loss. I wish more people would because it's actually quite common. This is the problem. I didn't know that it was common. I thought it was rare. That's not true. 1 in 5 pregnancies miscarries early. That is VERY common. Many times women don't know unless they are actively trying to have a child.
I don't want pity. I don't want people tip toeing around my feelings. I don't want to hear that it was meant to be or that it was for the better. I don't want to hear that if we just relax we will get pregnant. I don't want to hear these ignorant comments. I know that they are well meant, but they aren't helpful and all they do is make it worse. All I want to hear is "I'm sorry" and that my loss is acknowledged and not swept under the rug. That's it.
For now, we are trying to move forward. One day at a time and the emotions are constantly changing. It is getting easier, but the pain is a sneaky bastard that comes up again and will probably continue to do so.
We are hopeful and we know what follows a storm.