This past weekend has been the most difficult time for myself and my husband. Let me start out by saying I have an amazing family; I have a loving husband and a beautiful daughter. We had not planned to add to our family anytime soon, but apparently fate had other plans for us. We got pregnant back in March, and I discovered that this pregnancy was not going to be the cake walk that it was with my firstborn.
Oh, how I wish I could go back to my first trimester and relive those moments of morning sickness, total exhaustion, and irritability! On Wednesday, June 27th, I went to the ER with some minor bleeding and back pain. I came out confused; the doctor had said that she couldn't detect a heartbeat, but informed me that since she wasn't in the ultrasound room it was hard for her to detect because it "wasn't in real time". Um, so then you couldn't detect it or the ultrasound tech couldn't either? Apparently, the ultrasound tech couldn't tell me anything, as it was against the doctor's policy. I was very confused and frustrated, but told myself I'd wait for the following day to go to the OB-GYN visit I was scheduled for.
The day of the appointment my wonderful sister-in-law went with me; my husband was exhausted from the previous ER visit and assured me things were probably just fine, and I agreed with him and told him it was okay for him to stay at home "this time". I was called back for an ultrasound, and within five minutes I was given the news no woman wants to hear: "The baby doesn't have a heartbeat."
My heart stopped, my breath caught in my throat. This was just one of those unreal moments and I was in a state of shock. At first I didn't cry, and I couldn't say anything. I just sat there looking at the screen at the little baby and tried to search for a sign of life. Maybe the tech was wrong, and would find it in a second? Maybe the machine was broken? Maybe, maybe, maybe...
But maybe never came. She turned on the doppler and I could hear nothing. That's when I lost it.
It's hard any way you look at it, but it's especially hard when you had some expectations that would never be met. My brother had died back in August, and my hope for this baby was to bring some life back into our family; remind us that life goes on and everything will be okay, but this wasn't the case. Not only did I lose my brother last year, but now not even a whole year later I lose a child. My baby, my Rose or my Jude, will never get to experience the joys and sorrows of life on Earth. I will never get to see my second child grow up and be the man or the woman I hoped for.
Tomorrow morning I go into the hospital to take some medicine that will help speed up the process of making me miscarry this beautiful baby. I'm petrified; not of the procedure, not of the pain, but what comes after. Will I make the right choices for my baby? Will I live with this guilt the rest of my life? I'm the type who wants to plan ahead, and now the carefully laid plans I had have been taken from me.
Now I'm left wondering what to expect when you're no longer expecting...