We had talked about maybe trying for baby #2 this summer, but had a pretty short time table, as one of my best friends is getting married in June and I of course did not want to be pregnant for the wedding of the year. While getting pregnant with Paul, I had an ovulation issue (as my body wasn’t ovulating at all) and therefore was prescribed Clomid, which obviously was quite effective. So I didn’t have my hopes very high about a second pregnancy coming naturally or quickly, which was kind of nice because the pressure was off. We were going to see what happened. Imagine our surprise that after only the second month of trying, we were blessed with a positive pregnancy test.
I have to admit, I was scared out of my mind. How were we going to have 2 kids? Could we afford it? Did we need a double stroller? 2 kids in cribs. 2 kids in diapers. How would Paul react? We would be paying double in daycare. My list of concerns went on and on and on. But then at 9 weeks I went to the doctor and saw that little bambino swimming around on the ultrasound, the heart flickering, my heart began to swell with the idea of a family of four. It is such an incredible feeling to be in love with someone you have never met. We started to tell our family and close friends. We taught Paul how to say “big brother” and began researching nursery ideas.
And I wish for nothing more that this story could end right here.
Last weekend I began to have a little spotting. I looked up my symptoms in one of the several baby books we have, and read that some spotting is normal in pregnancy and to call the doctor, but this was not considered an emergency unless the bleeding became heavier. I called the doctor on Monday morning, and they again assured me it was probably nothing but made me an appointment for an ultrasound just to put my worries at ease.
Ryan covered my class, so I could go to the doctor appointment in the middle of the day. When I got into the room, the doctor laughed about how I was going to have my hands full with two kids under two. As we began to get ready for the ultrasound she told me that less than 10% of pregnancies result in miscarriage once you have seen the heartbeat. So we did the ultrasound. And I knew in 3 seconds there was no longer a heartbeat. The doctor didn’t say anything for along time, trying her best to look at the baby at every possible angle, hunting for that flicker of hope. But it was written all over her face. Finally I said, “You don’t see a heartbeat.”
And then I cried in this cramped, tiny, examining room, finally having some clarity about how much I wanted this baby to be part of our family. The doctor was so nice and explained that a second doctor had to come in to confirm the diagnosis. I was ready for the words the second time around, and I cried harder.
The baby measured at 9 weeks 4 days. I thought I was almost 13 weeks pregnant.
A nurse came in after a bit to give me a shot (in my ass to really top off the day) because I have negative blood. She took one look at me and started crying too. As she was preparing my shot she just whispered, “Well lets just cry together.”
I have a D&C scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.
We are so sad. Much sadder than I thought. But I know sometimes these things just happen. I know that most likely something was not developing properly and nature had to take its course. And I’m still so sad.
But what I know is that my husband loves me more than anything in the world. I know that he is devastated I went to that appointment alone. I know he would do anything to make this go away.
I also know that we have surrounded ourselves with such good people. Who love us. Who will grieve with us. Who will offer to bring dinners, flowers, words of encouragement, or would hop on a plane in a second to be with us. We are grateful for this kind of support.
I know that Paul is such a special gift. I know that someday Paul will have a sibling. I know that this happens to many women. I know some days will be harder than others.
And I know that this experience will one day just be a moment in all the other tangled moments that make up our family’s history. My sweet sweet family.
I know we will be okay.