The word miscarriage has invaded our lives....and it hurts, it hurts so bad.
During a routine ultrasound (on our 4th wedding anniversary, no less), our little bean's heart had just stopped beating. The baby was measuring perfectly on time (9 weeks and 4 days), but the previous rigorous little flutter we saw just 2 weeks earlier was gone. It was gone....and I knew it before anyone even said a word. The few minutes I waited alone in the ultrasound room for a doctor to "confirm a few things", the tears just started flowing. I tried to stay calm and tell myself that I didn't know what I seeing and that no one had even said anything negative yet, but I knew it. As the doctor came in and the probe went back on my tummy, I started to lose it. The doctor looked at me sadly and before she could even say anything, I said "I already know."
It was decided I needed surgery to remove the baby, since it was too big to let pass naturally. I was able to compose myself enough to ask the right questions about general anesthesia, the procedure, the risks, the recovery, etc. I even made the comment that I was "putting on a very strong face". I was, but I was also alone.
Yes, I was alone....very alone. Jon and I had decided that this follow-up ultrasound (we had just had a limited ultrasound 2 weeks earlier confirming 1 baby and 1 strong heartbeat) would be easy and straightforward and unnecessary to have us both there. Leighton was a handful at the last OB appt when they came with me....so it was an easy decision to leave them home. I would have done anything to have them there with me in that moment.
We are devastated, to say the least. So many questions, so many unknowns, so many 'why's'. Will I ever be able to conceive on my own again? Why can women smoke crack and meth their entire pregnancy and not miscarry, but a woman who takes pristine care of her body loses her baby? Life is unexplainable and unfair sometimes.
I had surgery today, after requesting one more ultrasound to verify what still seemed so impossible. We have opted for genetic and infectious testing to possibly give us some answers and prevent this in the future. It will also allow us to know whether it was boy or a girl.
I feel ok physically....I came out of anesthesia well: little nausea, lots of cramping, some bleeding, but nothing some time and sleep can't fix. Emotionally, I am struggling. I have good hours and bad hours; well, maybe more like good minutes and bad minutes.
Thank goodness for my amazing family. I could not have imagined being supported any better than I am right now. My husband is the most fantastic man I have ever met and has said and done all the right things. He is emotionally living this with me and we are doing our best to support each other. Leighton has been staying with Auntie Summer and Uncle Dave, and we are so grateful they have been so generous with their time and love. I had the most beautiful bouquet of flowers to surprise me last night from the Lassak-Aupperle side, too! My sister and her family were in town this week, which is unbelievably fantastic timing. Seeing my sis, her husband, and their kiddos Jake, Tye and Jossie was such a light in this week of darkness. I am forever thankful they drove from Colorado and just happened to be here to hug us, cry with us, and listen to us. My mom, who has personally experienced a miscarriage, understands a little more than everyone else, which is strangely comforting and such a beautiful outlet of support. My dad gave me the biggest hug I think I've ever gotten from him; it meant a lot. My in-laws, who have been out-of-town have called many times and just said "I love you" and "I'm sorry". They have been an incredible outlet for Jon. Even my work and the few friends I've told have been unbelievably supportive. In that way, life is good.
With beautiful Leighton in my life already, it has certainly made this a little easier, but it also makes me keenly aware of exactly what I am missing out on with baby #2. Guess the "Big Sister" book can go back to the library for a bit...
How do I love something so much that I never got to meet or hold in my arms....
Today was a terrible, terrible, terrible day.
Goodbye, Sweet Love:
Sonogram from 4.1.2011
3 comments:
I know there are a million comments on your facebook already but I thought I'd leave you one here...we love you guys, that's all we need to say...
Oh we were so sorry to hear about your loss! I can't even imagine what you are going through. But to know you have so much family around you - that is wonderful for you all! Know we are here thinking of you all at this time.
Kathy Logelin
I am so sorry for your loss. I cried reading this post especially where you talked about the "big sister" book. I have kept a journal for my daughter (who is 2) since I found out I was pregnant with her and when I found out I was pregnant with her sibling I wrote in her journal that she was going to be a big sister to only have to remove the entry because she is not going to be a big sister anymore. I pray we are both able to conceive again and this time we will have our babies to fill our empty arms.
Post a Comment