Side note- my parents had two daughters and tried once more for a boy. The entire time she was pregnant the doctor said to quit eating so much and she was having a boy. Two days before Christa and I were born they found out that they were actually having twin girls.
Anyway, it has always been easy for us to get pregnant. I know I took it for granted and when Dave and I decided to start a family we got pregnant the second month of trying (I was 30 when Isabella was born).
We always said we were going up have another baby right away, but our families were still shocked when Isabella was six months old we announced we were pregnant. This time we got pregnant the first month of trying.
All the while I had a few friends who were struggling with infertility. I felt bad because I know how aggravated I was when I got pregnant the second month with Isabella (I know, I was a brat!).
A few years later we decided we were ready to try for one more baby. As usual I got pregnant the first try. I felt great and we went in at 6 weeks to see the babies heartbeat. Everything was normal and easy as always. I just started a new teaching job and decided I would wait a bit to tell my boss. I remember it was the Thursday before school started and I was working in my classroom. I carried heavy stuff upstairs (I never let pregnancy get in my way). Around this time I was 8 weeks pregnant.
When I got home from work around 4 I went to the bathroom and saw a little blood. It was so little I tried to ignore it. But then I became paranoid and kept going to the restroom and yep, every time I wiped there was blood. I didn’t know what to do. By the time Dave got home it was around 6. He agreed to take me to a quick care by our house. When I went in they said there was nothing they could do (they didn’t have an ultrasound machine) so we went home.
Dave and I had a little time to kill so we went to Denny’s to have breakfast. All the while my heart was breaking. When we finally got to the dr they immediately did an ultrasound and saw the baby had died. Yep, there on the screen. It was sad and horrible and I kept reminding myself that I had two beautiful daughters. Before the doctor came in the ultrasound room I basically had my miscarriage at that moment in his office. There was so much blood and it wouldn’t stop. I was grateful that I was at his office when it happened. Otherwise I would not have known what to do.
My doctor is so awesome he said he could do D&C right away or I could wait for everything to pass naturally. I wanted to get it over with right away so the nurse gave me a pill to calm me down and then Dave took me straight to the hospital where my doctor would meet us shortly lately.
I remember being out if it from that Xanax or whatever the nurse gave me, and I couldn’t stop crying. I also remember having to sign a million forms and the word missed abortion was all over them. I was appalled by the clinical name for what happened to me. The term abortion to me always meant something a woman chose to do.
The surgery went well and then Dave took me home. I was upset and I was embarrassed that at 6 weeks I posted on Facebook that we were pregnant. I even had the girls hold a saying it.
All I could think was, how do I tell everyone that no, I am not pregnant? I texted and emailed close family and friends. Ultimately I generically posted something on Facebook that people could get the gist.
I remember asking my doctor, when can we try again. He said I had to wait for two cycles to pass. That seemed liked an eternity. I just wanted to try right away, be pregnant again and everything to be normal.
A month before we could start trying again Christa found out she was pregnant. I was so happy for her, but won’t lie and pretend I wasn’t envious. I remember once we could start trying again there was a day that I took a pregnancy test. It was negative. I cried to Dave and said it wasn’t fair that my baby died and Christa was pregnant. Ironically later that day she got the call that she had thyroid cancer. I felt like such a jerk for my behavior that morning.
So as I am typing this we are in the car coming back from Austin and Finley is crying at the top of her lungs because she us over being in a car seat. I am so grateful for those screams.
My question to everyone is why is “miscarriage” such a taboo word and subject. Nobody wants to talk about it. Everyone says you should wait and tell people you see pregnant “just in case”.
This is what I know. I know that I will see my baby when I die. I have a feeling the baby was a boy. I know that I would never have Finley if things worked out differently. I would never want to change that. I know that you never can really understand how someone feels about having a miscarriage until you have experienced it yourself. I know that even though I am so very blessed with three beautiful, healthy girls, there are still times that I get sad about it.