I had been sitting on this news since the end of October. I have a hard time sitting on news, especially exciting news, because I want to tell everyone!
But I was really good. I only told a few people I knew wouldn't tell everyone. Then on Thanksgiving we told our families.
My family was somewhat shocked. Wade's family was not as shocked. But everyone was excited.
I told the people I wanted to know personally and not from a post on FB or in here. Yet I still waited to make it official. I don't know why. Maybe I knew that something was wrong in that way you know something is wrong deep down inside and until it all goes wrong you don't realize you were even thinking something might be wrong.
I was really excited. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
Or, you know, something more my style. Like tell it here.
But I was patient.
And then...
Something went wrong.
Horribly, terribly wrong.
And instead of telling you all that we were having our third baby, I'm telling you all that we lost the baby.
I guess I could've kept that a secret like I kept the pregnancy a secret, but I don't want to. Not anymore, anyways. And I can't seem to conjure up any
good stories because I'm so focused on this one story. So here it is.
Well, not
all of it because there are really a lot of details you don't want to know. Nor details I want to share.
But, the gist of the story went something like this: we (read: I) decided it was time for baby #3--quite possibly the last baby for our family. We got pregnant quickly and it was going amazingly well.
In fact, so well, that a few times I thought maybe something was wrong. But I didn't dwell on that. My stomach was popping out. I was tired all the time. I was moody beyond belief. The only thing I was missing was the copious amounts of throwing up that had accompanied the other two pregnancies, and I can't say that I was missing it at all.
I really thought that (a) God was blessing me for having the faith to have a third kid, even knowing how sick I get and how stressed out I get and how worried I was that the other two would try to eat it when I was in the shower (b) I was in such amazing shape that maybe I had beaten morning sickness with mind and body control.
More so (a) than (b). But I was grasping for some reason other than something was wrong.
I toyed around with the idea of waiting until after our first doctor appointment to make the annoucement, but I wasn't scheduled to go in until almost 13 weeks and it was wearing on me trying to keep it a secret from everyone and wearing shapeless clothes to hide it. So, when everyone around the Thanksgiving table stood up to tell what they were thankful for, I sorta just threw Baby #3 in the mix. Then, after dinner, we drove to Wade's parents house and told them. Then Wade texted his siblings. It's not nearly as exciting to announce #3 as it was #1, but everyone called and congratulated us.
And through it all I felt really good. I was 11 weeks afterall. There was no inkling of anything being wrong. I was almost out of the first trimester. We had started thinking about names. Everything was going swimmingly well.
Until the next week.
I started experiencing signs of an impending miscarriage. But the internet reassured me that things were probably fine. I mean, I was 12 weeks. I was
so close to being out of the first trimester. Out of the danger zone.
I wasn't even going to call the doctor's office, that's how unconcerned I was. They had happened to call me to remind me of my doctor appointment (that was for nearly a week later, weird?) and I happened to mention what was going on and before I knew it I was headed in to get some blood work done. I even tried to talk the nurse out of it all--we have a huge deductible and it was December and we have only used about $700 of it for the year. I didn't want to rack up more money if we were just going to turn around and reach our deductible again the next year when we gave birth.
But eventually, I complied. She called the next morning and told me that my HCG (pregnancy hormone) levels were normal for a 12 week pregnancy but that she was concerned enough to set up an ultrasound.
And honestly, all I saw was this: $$$. But, I shoved it aside and went in anyways.
I can't say that I was all that shocked that they found a fetus that hadn't developed past six weeks. There was no heartbeat. There was definitely no live baby that was 12 weeks along. I was more shocked that I had been carrying around an undeveloping fetus for six weeks. I got the bad news over the phone in the ultrasound area of the hospital from the nurse. She was really compassionate. There are no complaints there. I was a total wreck though and I felt bad for the poor ultrasound tech who had to walk me to the exit. Luckily, Wade was there with me.
The rest of the evening is kind of a blur. I had to make a lot of phone calls unannouncing our pregnancy and then it was a matter of waiting and seeing what would happen over the weekend.
By Monday, I thought the worst of it was behind me. I was feeling really good and I had called the on-call doctor only once the entire weekend. I was quite proud of myself. As it turns out, as much information as there is out there on the internet, there isn't everything and apparently, no one really wants to talk about miscarriages. Besides that, I was the only one I knew who was trying to "go natural" this late in a pregnancy. Everyone else I know who has miscarriaged has done it early (either 5 or 6 weeks) or had a procedure done. I wasn't keen on having the procedure done if not absolutely necessary and so I felt, basically, alone. But the on-call doc reassured me that everything was "normal" and I believed her.
But, like I said, I was feeling really good. However, that all changed on Tuesday. I called the doctor's office. Even the doctor herself called me back. She said everything was normal. By Wednesday, I was doing even worse. They called in some medication that was suppose to help with everything. I kept thinking "how come no one ever talks about THIS part?"
By Thursday, I was sure something was wrong. Of course, it's really hard to convey that over the telephone without sounding like some crazy lunatic and I kept being told that everything was normal. I couldn't find this definition of normal anywhere and finally Thursday evening, I made the decision to go in to the ER.
There will be people that will tell you that if I would have waited longer, everything would have been okay. And there are people that will tell you that if I hadn't gone in when I did, we'd all be singing a different tune right now. I don't know who to believe, really. I'm the only one who knew really what was happening. I was trying to shield Wade and the kids from the horror of it all and so in the end, I went with my gut feeling. I don't regret it even if the whole time all I could see was this: $$$
To make a very gory and traumatic story short, the ER docs did everything short of surgery and after six hours even suggested surgery anyways. I opted to go home instead and hope that they were able to get everything fixed. It was the most horrific, terrifying, and humiliating experience of my life. In all my reading of miscarriage stories and the tales I've heard from friends, no one has relayed this type of experience.
I'm happy to report that I'm feeling a lot better now. I lost a lot of blood and have to take iron supplements for the next month. I tire really easily and I can't do a whole lot yet, which just serves to make me antsy and easily irritable. We're still coming to terms with the emotional aspect of the whole ordeal. I do know that it will take some time to heal from this, both physically and mentally.
Wow. That story was much longer than I thought it would be and I left half of it out. Hopefully, my next entry will be a little more lighthearted. But I do feel immensely better having gotten it out.
