Such a strange word.  Miscarriage.  To carry something improperly.

I haven’t written because I haven’t been ready to share EVERYTHING yet.  Sometimes, we hold our cards a little closer to our chest until we’re ready to lay them down.

Brock and I decided we were ready to start expanding our family again.  We started trying in January.

Fertile myrtle, I got pregnant right away.  I didn’t even have the chance to get fully excited – the day after I got a positive pregnancy test, I started spotting.  3 days later, I miscarried.  I was at work.  It hurt, physically.  It hurt emotionally too.  But I smiled it off, and said we’d try again.  It was the first try after finally getting my period back, and my cycles weren’t regular.  Everyone gets a do-over, right?  I miscarried on February 14th.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Several weeks later, I still hadn’t gotten another period.  I took a pregnancy test and it was faintly positive.  I waited another week and took another test.  It was also positive.  I went in to the OB/GYN to get checked out, and had an ultrasound.  It showed a 4 week 2 day gestational sac – early, but a good sign.  I allowed myself to start getting excited.  Just a little.

We told a few people – close friends, family… my excitement wouldn’t allow me to keep it in until 12 weeks like I had wanted to.  I had gut wrenching nausea again, and utter exhaustion.  I really FELT pregnant.

Until Wednesday night.  Wednesday night, I started cramping and spotting.  I tried not to panic, because spotting can be normal.  But my heart sank.

Thursday, I wanted to take it easy.  I sat on the couch most of the day, and didn’t over do anything.  By midafternoon my cramping was gone… but so was my nausea.  I went to the mall to spend some time with my dear friends, Nancy and Juliana.  I remember putting on a pad, thinking just in case. The children’s play area was CRAZY with people, so we opted to walk around the mall for a while first.  We went to The Children’s Place, and shopped a little.  I don’t remember the exact moment when I felt a gush, but I knew it was time to go home.  I told Nancy that I had to go, and she walked me to my car.

I called Brock from the parking lot and told him to come home.  He asked if everything was okay, and I said “No.”  He didn’t press me for information, he just headed home immediately.  Then I called my doctor’s office to let them know what was happening.  The nurse told me that it sounded like a miscarriage, and that if could manage it at home, they would call in some pain medication for me.  I could also go to the ER.  I know it’s against the rules, but I still had some percocet left over from when I delivered Ronan, so I said I would stay at home.  I hung up the phone, sat down on the couch, and cried.

I cried because it hurt, and I cried because there was so much blood, and I cried because of the baby that we wanted so badly.  I cried because of the fear that sneaks up and tells you that you wont be able to get pregnant again.  I cried because of the loss of the perfect pregnancy I had imagined in my mind.  I couldn’t stop crying.

Thursday night, I took 2 percocet and 4 Advil, and it still didn’t touch my pain.  Doubled over, tears in my eyes, couldn’t catch my breath pain.  I went to bed early, and slept hard.  My sweet husband took care of me and took care of Ronan… he took care of everything.

For now, Brock and I have decided to stop trying to get pregnant.  My cycles are probably still not normal, and my body is having a difficult time trying to adjust.  We can settle a few things about deciding whether or not we want to move, and what comes next.  I can try to get my weight under control a little, and get back up to some healthy numbers.

And I really don’t think I would be able to handle another one.  Another miscarriage.

So…

We wait.