I just came across your campaign and couldn't help but feel a little tug at my heart. I went through a miscarriage just five weeks ago. It's crazy how life can go from being filled with such excitement to feeling like your being torn apart. I had tried for over a year to get pregnant, and when we finally saw those two pink lines, it was so unreal that we took two more pregnancy test to make sure it wasn't a dream. We have two other daughters who are 8 and 4 and so we decided to wait and tell them until after my first doctors appointment at 8 weeks. I felt great, no sickness, a little bit tired, but nothing that would throw any red flags.
Eight weeks came and I went to the Dr.'s appointment, where my Dr. said I could be measuring a little further along and that things looked right on schedule. I left with an up beat feeling that now we could share this news with our little girls. That would be one of the hardest parts through this whole journey. We wrapped an outfit for our girls to open and they were shocked and thrilled all at the same time. They couldn't believe that we were going to be getting a baby, they had wanted another sibling (preferably a brother if you ask them) for quite some time. It was the weekend after Mothers day, and I started to get some cramps. It had been awhile since I had been pregnant so I called our after hours clinic. The nurse reassured me that some cramping was normal and not to worry unless there was some bleeding. The next more is when the bleeding started...hesitantly I decided that maybe it could be something else. Not wanting to fully except that I might be loosing this baby that was already so loved and so wanted. I went to the ER where they thought it could be a UTI so they did all the test, and then decided that we should do an ultra sound to make sure things were okay with the baby. I set there waiting for the unltra sound tech and pleading with my Savior that the baby would be okay. Going into the ultra sound room wasn't like that last two times, it was't full of joy to see the baby move, hear the heartbeat, and find out a gender.
This time I was praying that the baby would just be okay... that things would be okay. The ultra sound tech as sweet as could be says to me....There's no heartbeat.....the baby stopped growing....your measuring more around 6 weeks not 10. There was no heartbeat, no movement, just a picture of what would have been my baby. I can't put into words the emotions that go through your mind. The name had been chosen, I could imagine bringing this sweet baby home from the hospital, feel the cuddles and see the girls playing with their new sibling, and all that was now gone. There would be no nursery to get ready, no baby clothes to buy, no memories of our girls loving their new sibling. The sweet ultra sound tech- said you know what i went through this too. In that moment I felt like I wasn't alone. I cried just thinking that now the hardest thing I would have to do would be go home and explain to my sweet children that they would not be getting the new baby they were so excited about. I felt at that moment a strength beyond my own because I wanted to set there and cry, but I knew I needed to be strong for them. We hadn't really told anyone else so for us we didn't need to call and tell family members. Even as I set here writing this only a handful of people know about our loss. There will always be a little part of my heart that is gone and empty forever, and I am still struggling to accept that. I find myself still questioning could I have done this or done that....and the what if's.
I don't know how I will feel when my due date comes and goes, or if I will get to a point where I feel strong enough to try again, but I just want others to know that they are not alone. That I am fighting that same fight. I feel the heartache they are going through and I want them to know it's okay to cry. It's okay to be sad, to mourn and grieve. It wasn't just a pregnancy, it was a baby, a baby who already was loved more than anyone could ever really understand.