July 26th: It's Ella's birthday. We go to the Dollar Tree to buy her birthday balloons. Ironically, she wants a "Welcome Baby" balloon even though she has no idea. I laugh inwardly as I hand the cashier a pregnancy test. The test comes back positive. I'm already 5 weeks.
7 Weeks: I got through a few days of morning sickness and then it disappears. Since I am usually sick for several weeks this makes me nervous since I stopped being sick right when the baby died in my previous miscarriage. A few people tell me, "It's normal to be paranoid after having a miscarriage. Everything will be alright." I don't feel like everything will be alright but try to convince myself that I'm being ridiculous.
8 Weeks: I get my first ultrasound. I am notorious for not being able to understand everything that's being shown in an ultrasound but it is beyond obvious that there is absolutely nothing to see. There is an amniotic sack full of fluid that is measuring on time but nothing else. We see the doctor and he gives us a 1% chance that this pregnancy will go to term. The baby might not have developed yet and my "dates could be off." Since there is still a chance, albeit tiny, we schedule an ultrasound for the next week to find out if we are going to be having a baby or not.
9 Weeks: Ben and I are super nervous as we go into this ultrasound. Our family has had a family fast but I still am going crazy waiting for answers. The ultrasound screen shows that there has been development, but not the kind we were expecting. My amniotic sack has split into two and one has a yolk sack in it. Neither sack has a baby. The doctor says that since there is still development happening, we should wait another week to see what is going to happen. He tells us we will either be having identical twins or nothing -- it's not likely that we'll just get one.
As you can imagine the next week is the most agonizing week of all. We are caught up in two extremes -- twins or another miscarriage.
10 Weeks: I get my final ultrasound. Nothing new has developed. No babies. No heartbeats. There is bleeding. And somehow I'm measuring smaller than the previous week. We talk to the doctor and he says that a natural miscarriage is now out of the question with this pregnancy and that I will have to have another D&E. If I go naturally it will be far more dangerous for me. He threw words around that I'd never heard of like "pregnancy cancer." We scheduled a D&E and were grateful that he let us wait to get it until after our trip to visit Becca in Maryland.
September 7th: It's my parents' anniversary. So naturally Ben and I bring all the kids over for a sleepover so that I can be at the hospital at 5:30 the next morning. #daughteroftheyear
September 8th: I'm the first person checked into the hospital that day. After getting me prepped, they hook me up with anesthesia and I am completely knocked out. When I'm coming to all I can think about is how cold I am. I don't remember asking for blankets but somehow I keep getting more and I put them over my head I'm so cold. I haven't even opened my eyes but I can hear the nurses chuckling over asking to see my armband and I poke my hand out the top of my blanket. Ben takes me home. I'm still on anesthesia and serious pain meds and so I sleep the whole day on the couch while we have a Great British Bake Off marathon. Apparently we watched the same episode 3 times in a row without me realizing it.
This miscarriage has been harder on me than my last one. It's my third miscarriage. I have officially given birth to as many children as I have lost. Part of me feels defeated. Part of me feels physically broken because of how hard this year has been on my body. Part of me feels guilty for being sad since I already have 4 wonderful children and some people would do anything just to have one. Part of me really breaks up over the fact that I'm not having twins even though the idea terrified me as much as it excited me.
No matter what situation I'm in I can always find something to be positive about -- and this case is no different. But sometimes, it's okay just to be sad. So just a warning that if you catch me off guard and ask me how I'm doing, I'm going to say that I'm fine. But really I'm not and I'm just not in the mood to talk about it.
9 Weeks: Ben and I are super nervous as we go into this ultrasound. Our family has had a family fast but I still am going crazy waiting for answers. The ultrasound screen shows that there has been development, but not the kind we were expecting. My amniotic sack has split into two and one has a yolk sack in it. Neither sack has a baby. The doctor says that since there is still development happening, we should wait another week to see what is going to happen. He tells us we will either be having identical twins or nothing -- it's not likely that we'll just get one.
As you can imagine the next week is the most agonizing week of all. We are caught up in two extremes -- twins or another miscarriage.
10 Weeks: I get my final ultrasound. Nothing new has developed. No babies. No heartbeats. There is bleeding. And somehow I'm measuring smaller than the previous week. We talk to the doctor and he says that a natural miscarriage is now out of the question with this pregnancy and that I will have to have another D&E. If I go naturally it will be far more dangerous for me. He threw words around that I'd never heard of like "pregnancy cancer." We scheduled a D&E and were grateful that he let us wait to get it until after our trip to visit Becca in Maryland.
September 7th: It's my parents' anniversary. So naturally Ben and I bring all the kids over for a sleepover so that I can be at the hospital at 5:30 the next morning. #daughteroftheyear
September 8th: I'm the first person checked into the hospital that day. After getting me prepped, they hook me up with anesthesia and I am completely knocked out. When I'm coming to all I can think about is how cold I am. I don't remember asking for blankets but somehow I keep getting more and I put them over my head I'm so cold. I haven't even opened my eyes but I can hear the nurses chuckling over asking to see my armband and I poke my hand out the top of my blanket. Ben takes me home. I'm still on anesthesia and serious pain meds and so I sleep the whole day on the couch while we have a Great British Bake Off marathon. Apparently we watched the same episode 3 times in a row without me realizing it.
This miscarriage has been harder on me than my last one. It's my third miscarriage. I have officially given birth to as many children as I have lost. Part of me feels defeated. Part of me feels physically broken because of how hard this year has been on my body. Part of me feels guilty for being sad since I already have 4 wonderful children and some people would do anything just to have one. Part of me really breaks up over the fact that I'm not having twins even though the idea terrified me as much as it excited me.
No matter what situation I'm in I can always find something to be positive about -- and this case is no different. But sometimes, it's okay just to be sad. So just a warning that if you catch me off guard and ask me how I'm doing, I'm going to say that I'm fine. But really I'm not and I'm just not in the mood to talk about it.
5 comments:
Love you.
Loves. If you wanna talk, I'm here. Only have 2 kids at home these days!
So much love. As always, you have my love and prayers!
It is OK to be sad, just like you said. I am sad for you and your family. I am here for you if you need anything, please ask me. We will keep praying for you and your beautiful family. <3
I am sad with you. Miscarriage is really, really hard and your're right...it's okay to be sad. It's okay to mourn the hopes and dreams that came with expecting to bring one of God's children into the world. You are in my prayers, friend. Love you.
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