So, I'm not going to write too much about the last pregnancy, but since this is a blog about being pregnant after a loss, I feel it's important to acknowledge the loss. So here it goes.
My wonderful husband and I decided at the spur of the moment to "give it a go" last August. There was no ovulation tracking or date counting, and I don't think either of us expected a positive, but a few weeks later I noticed my boobs were killing me, and thinking back, I was a little late. I ran to the store the same day for a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I took another one to be sure, and I can't even begin to tell you how excited I was. Excited, and simultaneously petrified to tell Todd.
That fear melted away, when as soon as I broke the news he was as excited as I was. I immediately became a glowing proud expectant mom-to-be, and by weeks end all of our friends and family knew.
In the following weeks I researched my butt off to make sure that I was doing everything right. I only had a very small amount of nausea, so diet wasn't an issue. I ate healthy, avoided anything that wasn't 100% approved for pregnancy, started an exercise regime, watched myself around the horses and Todd and my dad took over any chores that involved heavy lifting.
It's hard to explain, but there was a little something in the back of my head that had me worried. I spoke about it with my best friend, who's response was "What are you worried about? You're young and healthy and doing everything right!" I decided to ignore the little voice as just me being hormonal and unsure of what was what. I religiously tracked the progress of baby's size and development. Baby is now he size of a pea! Baby is the size of an olive! Baby is the size of a small lime! Todd and I picked baby names, window-shopped for cribs and changing tables, and every night he fell asleep with his hand on my belly. We were completely in love with our baby-to-be and with the prospect of becoming parents.
I don't think I'll ever forget the miscarriage. A week earlier, I noticed that my boobs weren't hurting anymore. A day earlier, I had a huge cramp, followed by another huge cramp a couple of hours later. It made me nervous, but everything I researched told me some cramping was normal and not to worry if it wasn't accompanied by blood.
The day I started to miscarry, Todd and I were out shopping. We were walking around Staples, and I got a sharp cramp, and it went away. About 15 minutes later, another sharp cramp, and it went away. We went to the grocery store, and I got another sharp cramp. As we were walking around, the cramps became more and more frequent, and sharper. I felt a gush, and ran to the bathroom, to be greeted with a large about of bright red blood. I tried not to break down right then and there. I left the bathroom, found Todd, and as calmly as I could told him we needed to go to the hospital.
We spent the night in the ER, which was a little bit pointless. They found me a bed, but there was only one doctor on staff, and since I wasn't going through anything life threatening, I was at the bottom of the list. I only got to see the doctor at 4 in the morning. Todd was a star the whole time. He was calm, and collected. He found nurses for me when I needed one, and he brought me juice from the vending machine.
When the doctor finally saw me, she refused to do an ultrasound, even though the machine was right there. I don't think she wanted to be the one to tell me there was nothing living in my uterus. I did convince her to use the Doppler, and she *thought* she heard a heartbeat, so we went home with some hope. The bleeding had slowed significantly, and I had an OB appointment in a couple of days anyways, so maybe we were OK.
The following day was filled with stories of family and friends who experienced bleeding during their pregnancies, but managed to carry healthy full term babies. We had hope. That hope disappeared on the night of October 15th. Mom had come up to help take care of me, and I started bleeding and cramping again very heavily. When the miscarriage was complete, there was no doubt anymore as to what had happened. Todd wrapped up our baby and we saved him for burial. Flushing him down the toilet or throwing him in the garbage was not an option for either of us.
At the OB the next day, the ultrasound confirmed that there was nothing but a small amount of placenta left in my uterus. It was the final confirmation, and it hit Todd hard. I was prescribed apo-misoprostol to flush out the rest, and we started our journey of grieving and recovery.
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