On March 27th we found out that we were going to have a baby... Little baby Haire. We were so excited! So ready. We started preparing ourselves and our house for our child. We only told our families as our doctor instructed because after our first ultrasound there would only be a 5% chance of miscarriage. Then we could tell everyone.
The day before that day, the day we were going to be sure there was only a 5% chance would wouldn't meet our little one, the Monday after Easter, I woke up feeling off. I laid in bed longer than I should have and fortunately Pat came home on his break to find me in bed, concerned. I had gone to the bathroom and there was spottiing... then came the cramping. He reacted as a concerned husband and would be father should. He called the doctor immediately. He had to get back to his route, so me and baby were on our own.
We went to the doctor in a matter of minutes. The doctor said he thought everything was okay but wanted to move the ultrasound up and see if we could hear the heartbeat that day. He also gave me a RhoGAM shot as I am B-. As luck would have it I wasn't able to have the ultrasound onsite because of some shitty insurance issue. And so, I came home and sat, festering for 3 hours. Trying to distract myself, trying not to imagine the very worst. But it was no use. 1:30 pm could not come soon enough.
I arrived at the new, strange facility for the ultrasound. The front desk girls were not warm like the ones at my doctor and immediately I was sure something was wrong. I went into the dark cold room where the tech was training someone on the new machine. They talked tech the entire time knowing what they were looking at but leaving me to swim in my negative thoughts. I have seen enough movies to know when I should be hearing the heart beat, the heartbeat that is supposed to beat twice as fast of my own.
Pat was on his route thinking of me and the baby. We aren't a religious couple, but in times of need Pat talks to his grandfather who passed away 2 years ago. He didn't hear anything back, not a feeling or thought came to him. He came to the next intersection where someone had scrawled out "I love you" in chalk across it. Then he knew. It seemed our hearts broke simultaneously.
We lost the baby.
This is undoubtedly the most terrible thing that has ever happened to us. These past two weeks I have been trying to search my soul for strength, guidance, and direction. I still have not found them, if I am being honest, nothing but distraction has helped me.
For the entire life of this blog I wanted it to be a fun place, with happy tales and love stories, but I wanted to share this story because I had no idea that something like this would ever happen to Pat and me. We did everything right. I stopped drinking coffee and eating lunch meat, resting when my body required it. I was taking prenatal vitamins a month prior to conception. But still it happened. It happens to 1 in 4 pregnancies. I was not prepared for a miscarriage.
1 in 4 pregnancies.
I don't want to rain on anyone's parade. Pregnancy is a wonderful and exciting time! And I truly pray that no one goes through what Pat and I have gone through. I just hope this helps someone that may go through a similar tragedy. I just wish someone had prepared me that the loss was more probable than I ever knew.
The physical pain of losing the baby was more than I expected. "Just a normal to heavy period," the doctor said. The 2 am contractions were so painful I found myself screaming out, trying to put my body into a position that would release some pressure. Nothing helped, all I could do was meditate and wait for the pain to stop.
The emotional pain and literal emptiness... feels endless.
Now Pat and I are growing, supporting each other and hopeful for the future and our future family. But, we will always remember our "Baby B."