Wow, I guess I've let some time lapse since I've been on here. Part of the reason was that our laptop was seriously screwed up with a virus. And the other reason? I wasn't sure what I wanted to say.
There's been some good and there's been some bad.
My 1st Mother's Day was bittersweet this year. Two days before Mother's Day I found out great news.
I hadn't been feeling well for a while. I was so exhausted all the time, and wanted nothing more than to nap. And with an infant, I figured it was normal. However, I think I tried to talk myself OUT of the real reason for it. But the Wednesday before Mother's Day is when it hit...food aversion. I felt like puking at the sight and smell of the steaks Daryl had made for dinner and I quickly got it far, far away from me.
And that's when I finally started to let myself think, to believe. Could I be pregnant? I tested before my period was due (I got a positive pregnancy test with Hunter like four or five days before my period was due) and got repeated BFN's. But I just *knew* something was up.
Cut to the day after my period was due. Nothing. I tested and got a reeeeeally light positive. I felt the first tendrils of unease flick deep within my belly.
But it's still early, I rationalized with myself and the next day took another couple of tests. The line was a teeny bit darker, but still so faint. I took a digital test and was happy and relieved to see that beautiful word: PREGNANT.
I immediately called my OB's office and they had me come in for a urine test. Since Big D had the day off work to go turkey hunting, after I told him the good news, he came with us first to Hunter's 9 month pedi appointment and then to my OB's office. The urine test was negative but I questioned it, since I had three or four tests at home that said positive. The Dr. decided to send me for bloodwork explaining that it was afternoon and my HCG levels might be low, my urine diluted. On a Friday afternoon at 2pm I went for the blood draw. So of COURSE I wasn't going to hear anything back till Monday. Ugh.
My lower belly felt funny but I couldn't remember exactly how it felt when I was early-pregnant with Hunter. Was this normal? I kept my nervous fears mostly to myself. Big D tried to reassure me that everything would be fine. I really wish he had been right.
I took another test on Saturday and almost gasped. Was the line getting LIGHTER instead of darker?
Stop testing! I ordered myself. But the cramps I was feeling were not promising. And Saturday morning when I temped (BBT) my temp had dropped a little. I didn't completely trust it becuz when temping you are supposed to get a consecutive uninterrupted three hours of sleep...and sometimes I don't get that if Hunter wakes up (which he'd been doing a lot of lately).
Mother's Day. I woke up very early to pee (something I'd been doing at least twice a night) and something told me to temp first. My basal body temperature had taken a nosedive.
No, no, no. This isn't happening. Go back to bed.
When I woke up again later on, I was greeted in bed by my smiling husband and giggling baby boy. Daryl and Hunter did good...they got me a Pandora bracelet with a charm of Hunter's birthstone. I loved it and was feeling so blessed to have this little boy in my arms and sweet husband by my side.
But that nagging feeling wouldn't let me completely enjoy the morning. I scurried back to the bathroom. Took another test. Teared up at the faint, faint line that had ominously not gotten any darker.
"I'm having a chemical pregnancy." I mumbled to Daryl and crawled back into bed, pregnancy test still in hand. I showed him the faint line and then carefully placed it on my nightstand.
"What's that?" He asked.
"It's an early miscarriage. I'm losing the...the pregnancy." My voice caught as I struggled not to say 'baby', to try to keep myself from feeling the pain of loss.
"Oh, April, you don't know--"
"Yes, I do, I DO know." I interrupted him. The three of us cuddled under the covers and I fitfully drifted back to sleep, my lips resting on the soft wisps of hair on Hunter's sweet head.
Later that morning, my mother arrived. Before she even made it through the door I sobbed out, "I have bad news. I'm losing the baby." Just like Big D, she tried to talk me out of my feelings. Told me not to worry. We exchanged Mother's Day gifts, and Daryl made a delicious breakfast for all of us.
For some reason, I could barely look at Hunter. Seeing him, touching him, was such a painful reminder of what would NOT be growing in my belly. I felt numb. While my mom chatted with Daryl, I snuck back into the bathroom and nervously took my last digital test and almost gasped as almost immediately the words I'd dreaded popped up: NOT PREGNANT. I clutched that test in a shaking grip and wanted to throw it in the garbage. Pretend it didn't exist.
I spent the rest of Mother's Day buried under a blanket on the couch, feeling sorry for myself, for my baby. Still numb and surprised.
That night I crawled into bed and gently laid a hand on my belly and wondered how to say good bye to someone I'd only just begun to say hello to.
3:00 a.m. Another pee break. Looked down to see pink on the toilet paper and knew. It was really happening. Still numb, I went back to bed. The next morning I informed Daryl,
"I'm bleeding. It's over." I called in to work and took a sick day and after Big D left for work, I struggled to put a smile on my face for my baby boy who played happily on the carpet at my feet. I put Hunter in his highchair and that's when I saw him, really saw him.
Be happy for what you've got. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You have a beautiful son who you love with all your heart and soul. And with that toothy grin smiling at me, I couldn't help but smile back.
As the cramps built up, and the bleeding picked up (but was still not as heavy as a period) I shoved my feelings down, down, deep. I tried to ignore the bitterness that permeated my pores. I called my OB's office and the nurse made my blood boil. I explained what was happening and almost matter-of-factly she said, "Oh yes, that sounds like a chemical pregnancy. Your HCG level (from Friday's bloodwork) was only 13. It's very early so it should only be like a strong period. You shouldn't see any tissue." Blase, almost as if that meant I wasn't previously starting to grow life within me. I bit my tongue to stop the angry words that I WANTED to say: Have a little tact, bitch. I was pregnant. And now I'm not. I already pictured this baby in my mind, wanted him or her, and now like a quick breeze blowing away a wispy cloud, it's all gone.
I made it through the day with cramps that were only a little bit worse than some of my most uncomfortable, painful period-cramps. I watched the (Sorry, TMI) "tissue" come out into the toilet every time I peed. Every single time. And every single time I said out loud to that bitchy nurse, "Oh yeah, it's so early, you won't see any tissue come out. Screw you."
And I did cry. And cry. But it wasn't as painful as I thought it would feel emotionally and mentally. I should have known that part was far from over.
Daryl was making dinner and I told him he had to take care of the baby. The cramps were getting worse. And worse. The pain...it was almost like the pain of a contraction but without the ebb and flow of the actual contraction. Does that make sense? It was steady pain and it just got MORE painful as time went by. At one point, Daryl appeared in the doorway of the bedroom where i was curled up in a ball, my hands under the band of my sweatpants, cupping my abdomen and silently begging for it to stop. Realizing that at the same time, I didn't want it to stop cuz that would mean it was truly over.
Anyway, I won't bore you with all the minute details.
That Tuesday at work was hard, I won't lie. But the numbness had settled back in and I wasn't crying. The day was halfway over and I was surprised and almost pleased with myself for making it through.
I have a very good friend (who I can't say on here who it is, cuz she hasn't told people yet!) who is pregnant. She is due exactly one month ahead of what my due date would have been. I've known about her pregnancy for a while now, rejoiced with her good news when she told me, congratulated her on being pregnant with her first child. Felt nothing but happiness for her and then even more when we realized we'd be pregnant together. How close in age our children would be.
Well, that day she went for her first prenatal appointment and it went really well. She had an u/s done and I asked her to text or email the picture. I thought I'd be fine with it. But as soon as I opened up that u/s picture and saw that big round head and peanut body, my breath caught painfully in my throat and my chest constricted.
"Four or five weeks from now, I would have been staring down at MY u/s picture. At my baby." I said aloud softly to myself and blinked, suddenly completely blinded by the tidal wave of tears. The sobs that choked me and shook my shoulders as I hastily scrubbed at my cheeks, worried that a patient or the Dr. (my boss) would suddenly walk in and not wanting to explain, or look unprofessional.
And that's when I started wondering what I did wrong. I convinced myself that it had to have been my fault. I grasped at straws: Before I knew I was pregnant I colored my hair, took a vitamin supplement for a virus I thought I was coming down with, drank oodles of coffee and wine, blah, blah blah.
I internally beat myself up. I cringed at some of the tactless things people said in the hopes of "making me feel better". The worst being, "Maybe this just means you aren't ready for another child right now." Yeah, whatever.
And now weeks later, the pain has somewhat subsided. The numbness has faded.
But the tears? They still come and go at the thought of what could have been.
Of WHO could have been....