Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Good news, bad news.

I've just made public a post I wrote many months ago and saved as a draft. I intended to make that post public much sooner but then things changed. Considering the subject of the post was announcing my pregnancy, I no longer had a need to make it public since only one month after it was written, we lost our baby.

The beginning...

Soon after we found out I was pregnant I had an ultrasound. It was so early that we could barely see anything, but there was a heart beat! We were very excited and scheduled out next prenatal appointment towards the end of January.

The beginning of January was a great month. I was happy where my life was headed and physically I was feeling really great. I had the "first tri sleepies," but I was lucky enough to not have any morning sickness for the 10 weeks I was pregnant. The few pregnancy symptoms I did experience though were enough to make me feel confident in my pregnancy.

Fast forward to January 27th, my sister Danielle's birthday. I was 9 weeks and 5 days pregnant. I remember the wait for that next appointment was unbearable. All I kept saying to D was that I just hoped the baby was measuring on schedule. That's all I wanted to know.

There was a huge snowstorm that week but we planned on going to my mom's house immediately after the appointment to tell them the good news. We also planned on calling my sister on the way there to tell her that her birthday present, a new niece or nephew, would be arriving in August. If you've ever been to Hudson county on a Monday morning in 70 degree weather, you know that parking is literally impossible. This was now 7pm on a Thursday evening in the aftermath of a snowstorm but we were determined to make it there, find parking and share our news.

We never got that far. During the ultrasound the doctor simply said "The baby is measuring small." I knew in my heart what that meant. I've done enough research and knew my body well enough to know exactly how far along I should be measuring. 9 weeks 5 days. It was impossible that was my due date was wrong. SOMETHING was wrong but it wasn't my due date. 9 weeks 5 days. My baby measured about 6 weeks.

I asked if there was a heartbeat. He said there was but it was extremely low. Cue the tears. My heart was breaking right there in my OB's office.

After what seemed to be an eternity, my doctor confirmed what I was already thinking. It looked like the beginning of a miscarriage. I was given an appointment for a viability scan for the following Tuesday and sent on my way. 

The car ride home and the rest of the evening were extremely difficult. I started to realize what few pregnancy symptoms I had were completely gone. I hadn't felt them in a couple weeks. How had I missed that? My baby hadn't even been born yet, I was still carrying my baby and I couldn't tell something was wrong? What kind of mom-to-be was I?

The following morning I had a hard time keeping it together. Given what I do for a living, it was in my best interest that I take the day off. Attempting to hold it together in front of my kids when all I wanted to do was fall apart seemed too immense a task.

My mom also had the day off and I decided to drive to her house and tell her what was going on. It wasn't something we originally wanted to tell people but being home alone all day didn't seem to be a wise choice and I just needed my mom.

She was wonderful about it. She offered encouragement even though in my mind I knew this wasn't going to end well. 

So far I was just sad. It was all so surreal. I didn't think it was really happening. Until Sunday that is. Sunday is when it all sunk in.

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