The lose of a child.

June 28, 2013

I peed on the stick and waited a torturous minute and a half for it to read "pregnant". I sent my husband a one worded text: "F**K". And then I cried. I was not happy. I was not excited. What I was was terrified. I already had a baby. My baby wasn't even 9 months old yet. That meant my children were going to be less than 18 months apart. How was I going to take of two children that young? How were we going to afford it?

We told our parents and they were very supportive. Heck, even they were excited. I still was not. I honestly did not want this baby. I was not ready for it.

After a few days went by I started to get a little excited myself. I loved being pregnant. Not so much the throwing up every time I ate part, but the growing a human being part. The little kicks and elbowing. The rolling from side to side. I couldn't wait to feel those little movements.

July 9, 2013

We were getting ready to spend a week in Florida visiting some family with our good friend Truman and my brother-in-law, Daniel. Nick wanted to wait until we got back to make the big announcement. I didn't. I mean, I had just found my excitement for this baby, which we call "Baby B", and I wanted to tell the world. So the night before we left out I posted this as my profile picture.

Everybody was so happy for us! We got a lot of, "wow, your family sure is growing fast!" But needless to say, we were getting used to the idea of having two babies.

The Sunshine State

We made it to Florida! And we had a blast. We saw my brothers, dad and grandparents. We spent a lot of time at the beach! We didn't do Disney this trip, but did go to Sea World and spend our anniversary at Busch Gardens.

But on the second day of vacation I started spotting. I freaked out. But every one I asked told me as long as I wasn't cramping, it was normal. And that's what everything online said too. So I wasn't as worried. I told the OBGYN and set up an appointment for as soon as I got home. I continued spotting throughout the rest of the trip, but never cramped so I thought everything was okay.

July 18, 2013

We started the 13 hour drive home at 10 pm on the 17th because it is a heck of a lot easier to take a road trip when your 9 month old is asleep rather than awake. We got home in the morning and took a little nap before taking the rental car back around 3 pm. We got home and that's when I started to not feel so great. It was my father-in-laws birthday so we were setting up for a little party. Nick noticed I wasn't feeling so great so he told me to just lay go lay down. Then I started cramping. And a little part of me knew what was happening, though I didn't want to accept it. I won't get too graphic, but I went to the bathroom and I saw the amount of blood, I knew without a doubt. So I called Nick upstairs and he held me while I cried. We knew I needed to go to the hospital, but I told him I didn't want to tell anybody until after they had sung to my father-in-law and he got his cake. So Nick went back downstairs and I stayed in bed. My mom and his mom could tell something was wrong, so he told them and my mom came upstairs with me. After they were done singing we left to go to the hospital.

We spent 6 long hours in the emergency room. I won't go into the details because honestly they're pretty boring. But when the doctor came in, this is exactly what he said: "well, it looks like you're not pregnant anymore. I'll get the nurse to get your discharge papers." And that was it. I sat there shocked. This doctor just came in and crashed my world around, and didn't even seem to care. Like it was a toy I lost, not a baby. Not my baby. My child. The way he said it so nonchalantly just ripped my heart apart. But we got our things together and we left, leaving a piece behind that we would never ever be able to get back.

We didn't tell people right away. I couldn't tell people. I couldn't talk about it. It took all my strength to get out of bed in the morning. I felt empty. I felt lost. But most of all, I felt guilty. I felt like it was my fault that we had lost this baby. Maybe if I hadn't been so upset when I found out I was pregnant I wouldn't have miscarried. Maybe if I had wanted this baby more I wouldn't have miscarried. Maybe if I hadn't told my husband out loud that I wasn't ready I wouldn't have miscarried. The amount of guilt I felt, and honestly still feel occasionally, is unimaginable. My rational side knows that it is in no way my fault, but that doesn't change the way I felt or feel. 

I went through some really dark times. It was all I could do to pull myself together in the mornings to take care of Peyton. It was like everybody was super supportive for a week or two, but then it felt like every one in the world had moved on and was expecting me to do the same. But I couldn't just move on. I had lost a huge part of myself, and the guilt was eating away at me more and more every day. Some days Peyton was the only thing getting me through the day, other days holding her made me burst into tears. I know she's the reason I was able to get through that time. 

Even now there are still days when I am on the edge of tears. I still miss Baby B more than anything. I can't help myself from thinking about him. I felt in my heart that the baby was a boy, but I will never know if that was true or not. Hundreds of questions are constantly running through my mind. Was it really a boy? What would (s)he have looked like? Would (s)he have had red or blonde hair? Would (s)he have Nick's blue eyes?

Right now I just have to trust that God has a plan for everything. I have to trust that he gave me Baby B for that short amount of time for a reason. I have deepened two friendships because of my loss of Baby B. I have been able to comfort some friends that have gone through the same loss. I have rekindled an old friendship that I thought have been lost forever, but know we talk almost every day. I hope that even though this isn't the most well written story, that it may be able to help someone else going through a loss. If nobody ever reads this, that's fine too. Just writing it out and sharing my story has helped me to heal just a little bit more. One day I'll be able to think about Baby B without wanting to cry, and this has put me one step closer. I never want to forget Baby B, I just want to be able to think about him/her without the sting of guilt slicing through my heart.

"An angel in the book of life wrote down my baby's birth. And whispered as she closed the book, too beautiful for Earth."