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.