The following post is slightly graphic.
Writing is sometimes therapeutic for me. I'm going to talk about something that is very hard for me to verbally say but I want everyone to know. Mostly so there are no awkward conversations. One day I will be able to talk about it. Maybe even in the next couple of days. But right now, every time I utter the word Miscarriage, my heart aches and the tears flow openly.
I had a miscarriage.
Sunday morning the boys and I went to church. Matt stayed home because he is working the night shift and so sleeps during the day. I was still on my new pregnancy high. 7 weeks pregnant, the baby was the size of a blueberry. That was our little nickname for it.
During church services I noticed I was cramping a little. My back was sore also. I just shrugged it off, thinking maybe I was being a little bit of a sissy. I had been spotting the week before and even went and had an ultrasound done. I saw the teeny heartbeat. I'll always remember that teeny little heartbeat. But according to my doctor, everything looked fine.
Spotting is normal as long as it's not bright red and there are no clots. So I just kept an eye on the spotting and slowed my activities way down. No lifting and lots of laying down to read.
Sunday afternoon we were invited over to a friends house for their daughters First Birthday. I arrived at 4pm, played with the baby. Watch David be crazy and silly per usual. I even received some congratulations for my pregnancy and showed off my ultrasound which showed a little blur for a baby. Even at that point I just wasn't feeling right. Call it intuition. I just couldn't put my finger on it.
At one point I went to the bathroom. It was then that I noticed my underwear was soaked with blood, amongst other things. I was devastated.
Matthew came to the door just as I was getting ready to leave. "Mom? Are you ok?" I opened the door, let him and start crying. I manage to say "I lost the baby." He immediately tears up and wraps his arms around me. I love that kid so much.
I then realized I was going to have to walk through a whole crowd of people to get to the front door while still crying freely. I made it to the kitchen where my friend Beka was preparing food for the party. I managed to sputter out that I had to leave because I just had a miscarriage. She gave me a big hug (hugs really help) and offered to take the boys home later, I agreed and ran out of the door, desperate to get home to my husband.
I get home, wake Matt and we go to the ER. Mostly because I didn't know what to do in a situation like this. I'd never had a miscarriage. After a 4 hour wait, blood work, and an ultrasound, it is determined that this indeed is a miscarriage.
I had pretty much prepared myself for that outcome, but to hear those words come out of the doctors mouth broke that teeny tiny string of hope I had left. We cried and then I told Matt I just want to go get something to eat.
So he fed me, he hugged me, he even rubbed lotion on my legs because they were dry. He has been my rock through all of this. I am so thankful that he is mine and I am his.
I will say that even though this has happened and I am sad about it:
I will not let it define my life or who I am.
I am not broken.
I will be happy, although just not right now.
I will recover.
We will try again.
We love Matthew and David so much. We are eternally grateful to have them as our children.