About this time two years ago I had a miscarriage. It was one of the hardest things I had ever went through. I told myself that there was no way it could happen to me, so I left myself even more vulnerable. Even if you could anticipate a miscarriage it would never prepare you for what you will go through.
In the other room we watched the screen. I could not stay focused on it. I knew something was wrong. As I looked at my midwife's face I knew.
The confirmation came from a soft squeeze on my foot from the nurse. It was a touch of sympathy. I knew my baby had not survived.
When the measurements were taken it was still at around 9 weeks along. We had no clue. I had showed no signs of anything going wrong. The baby had probably died not long after our first ultrasound.
I was in shock.
I was not prepared.
I was devastated.
We returned to our original exam room while the midwife checked to see if a more advanced ultrasound machine was available. I knew it was true though. I appreciated the fact she was trying to confirm her findings so far, but I knew the baby was not alive. It all made sense why I seemed to have no pregnancy symptoms.
We waited what seemed like an eternity in silence. When Tony tried talking to me I told him I really just did not want to talk or I would lose it. I really did not want to walk out of the building crying so we waited holding each others hands.
We went down the hall to the next ultrasound room with a special technician and the confirmation came. I was drained and in agony as we made plans to wait the horrible process out naturally, then to proceed with a D&C (dilation and curettage) if nothing happened in 2 weeks.
I was barely able to pay my copay and get out of the office. Once in the car we called our parents and delivered the news. Hopes were crushed, not just our own. This made it even harder for me. I felt like such a failure.
Tony and I took the week off from work. We wanted to just spend the time together and mourn our loss. I just could not face my office and the out pouring of sympathy. I just needed Tony because I did not want to be alone with my thoughts and sadness.
I felt as though I was being mocked by the sweet gestures, hugs, and cards. Everyone was so nice and loving yet I was bitter and could barely cry.
After my D&C, doctors told us we could start trying again after 6 to 9 weeks of healing, but I wanted longer. I was terrified of going through this process again and I did not allow my hopes to get too high.
We found out we were pregnant with Tyler a few months later and I will admit I was very scared. We told only our parents, and waited until we heard the heartbeat to tell others. I did not get overly excited which was such a shame because I wished I had more pictures of me getting fat.