7 years ago I was laying on a cold operating table, counting back from 30, waiting for the world around me to stop. I was pregnant when I went to sleep, and when I woke up....I wasn't. Just like that.
Seeing those 2 pink lines 2 months earlier was one of the most amazing feelings. Becoming a mother to my daughter was better than I had ever imagined it could be. And there wasn't ever a second thought that my husband and I would do it all over again. Pregnancy,birth,sleepless nights,midnight feedings,absolute joy. So, when we found out we were going to have another baby, we were both really excited. We told everyone immediately. Why wouldn't we? We had no reason to not tell our family and friends, and they were just as excited as we were.
I had 2 overpowering feelings during my all too short pregnancy. The first one, was that I was having twins. I don't even know how to explain the feeling, but it was very strong. I just knew. And the second, was that something wasn't right. Physically I felt fine, but that didn't worry me too much. I had zero morning sickness with my daughter, and I just figured every pregnancy is different, and not feeling those symptoms was no big deal. But, as the weeks went on, I just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. My doctor didn't routinely give early ultrasounds, and really, there was no reason for me to have one. I was healthy, I wasn't high risk. It was, by all accounts, a "normal" pregnancy. But, I asked for one anyways. I needed to see the little heartbeat(s) and know for sure that all was well.
My doctor set my ultrasound up, and the day I went in, I was 11 weeks along. I had actually started to reassure myself that everything must be fine, after all, I was so close to the 3 month "safe zone" I had no real reason to expect things weren't okay, other than a random feeling. The second I laid back, and the ultrasound started, I felt dread. I didn't feel excitement. I was there alone, which was actually for the best. I wouldn't have been half as calm had I had someone there. She ran the wand over my belly, and I could tell instantly that I was right. She looked worried. She looked sad. She started asking me questions. "Have you had any bleeding?" No. "How far along are you?" 11 weeks 1 day. "Could your dates be off at all?" No, I got a positive pregnancy test almost 9 weeks earlier. Then she told me. She wasn't supposed to, and she could have gotten into real trouble, but she told me. I am measuring you at 7 weeks. There are 2 sacs, but there was no fetal pole. She tried to reassure me and told me that maybe my dates were off, and we would see something in a week or 2.....but I knew that wasn't what was happening. My dates were definitely not off. My babies were gone. She sent the report off to my doctor, and sent me home with a hug.
I was numb. I could eat, I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think. Why was this happening? This was what my body was designed to do, I had failed. It was my fault. Telling my husband was torturous. He was very positive, and light. Maybe the dates WERE off? Maybe in a week, we'll be getting ready for 2 babies?! I didn't even have the heart to tell him that I knew that wasn't the case. My body had been trying to tell me for weeks. I just ignored it.
The next day, my doctor called. As soon as I heard his voice I knew it wasn't good. First of all, it was a Friday, my doctor had no office hours on a Friday, and second of all, he called himself. That had never happened before. He told me to come right in. Once I was there, he told me that he had gotten the report, and it looked like a missed miscarriage. But, he wanted to do another ultrasound to be sure. He told me that if this ultrasound was the same, he wanted to do a D&C to remove everything. Since at over 11 weeks, my body hadn't started to miscarry naturally, it was probably safer to just go ahead and do that. He set me up with an appointment at the hospital for the next day, and sent me home.
The next morning, I woke up with spotting. Not really anything concerning, but, it was there. So, off to the hospital I went. Everything happened so fast. Within an hour, I had the confirming ultrasound, I had met with the surgeon, and I was being prepped for a D&C. I barely got to kiss my husband before they wheeled me back. Everything about that day sucked. And, the worst part? It was over so quickly. I woke up, and just like that, my babies weren't a part of me anymore.
I felt empty, I felt sick, I felt guilty. Like I had caused this. I had no idea how horrible this would feel. It cut me to my very core thinking about everything we almost had. I couldn't shake the grief. I laid in bed for 2 days straight, while my mom spent the weekend with my daughter, but on Monday, I had to get back to reality. I had a child that needed to be taken care of, so I couldn't sleep all day, or cry in the shower. She was too young to understand, and I was just heartbroken. I had hoped that she would forget that we had told her about the baby. But, later that week, I was getting changed, and she looked at my belly and said "Where's your baby?" I crumpled into a ball on the floor, while my confused 2 year old comforted me.
I will never be okay with going through that. I think everyday about how different our life would be today, had I not miscarried. But, I also think about Joel, and Logan. Would they still be here? Maybe not. I might have had my hands so full, I would have been done. How could I live without Joel's laugh, or Logan's silly faces? How could I survive without hearing Joel tell me "today was the best day of my life!" Or Logan telling me "I love you most mama!" So, I feel like, if not for the absolute storm we went through, after the miscarriage, we wouldn't have our rainbow babies. These 3 kids, as difficult as they are some days, and as hard as some days are, are my life. I could never imagine my world without them.