Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Broken heart thats still beating

I guess I haven't blogged in a while. I started a video blog on youtube but....I haven't been on that much lately, either.

I guess I'm just blogging again because I need to do it somehow. Sitting on the couch crying one minute, laughing the next, and the rest of the time being completely numb on autopilot not blinking and freaking my husband out isn't cutting it right now.

I had a miscarriage.

That word feels so...taboo, so wrong, and I feel almost stupid even typing it on the internet. Miscarriage.....

I miscarried a few months ago, before I even knew I was pregnant. I was cramping all day and started bleeding lightly, and it got heavier as the day went on, and by the next morning, I thought I was clotting, but it wasn't a blood clot. It was human tissue, a little mass of tissue no bigger than my thumbnail.

I was shocked, and sad all at the same time. My husband and I had been trying to have a baby for a while, and we REALLY wanted to get pregnant. So to find out that I was pregnant and didn't know it and then lost the baby sucked in a big big way, but I got pregnant very soon afterwards.

When Eric and I went to the doctor for a prenatal appointment, we got an ultrasound at 9 weeks. The baby was kicked rapidly and moving everywhere; she (we refer to it as a she; it seems inhumane to say "it".) had a visible, active heartbeat and everything.

Then we found out I had an infection. The doctor gave me medications for the infection. The first time I took the medicine, I threw it all up immediately; I had forgotten to eat and fill my stomach before I took the pills.

SO, I went back to the doctor and got a second dosage.

Yesterday, I had another prenatal appointment. I had been feeling weird, I didn't feel pregnant anymore; I wasn't showing at all, and I certainly wasn't as big as a normal 3-month-pregnant woman should be. But my husband and I decided not to worry; we felt that worrying might make something bad happen to the baby. At least, that's how I felt.

I had also been cramping, but I remember when I was pregnant with my now 4-year-old, I cramped, but was told by a doctor and numerous friends that it was just my uterus stretching to accomodate a growing baby. It's been five years since then. I didn't know if I was cramping because of that or because of gas. But I didn't get it checked.

At our appointment, the nurse felt my stomach and got a weird look on her face and muttered something under her breath about how it felt smaller than it did at the last appointment. I had also lost 4 pounds since the last appoinement.

But she put the heartbeat monitor-thingie on my stomach to see how baby's hear rate was doing. She couldn't find one. She tried and tried and tried. I could feel my heart sinking, but I also remembered that with my oldest, the doctor couldn't find a heartbeat at first, either, but it turns out that he was just hiding from her and she eventually found it.

My OB couldn't find it, so she brought in her portable ultrasound machine. She laid it on my stomach and said, "Oh, there you are! You're way up here and I was looking lower!" Which meant I was carrying high. My husband said, "Does that mean it's a girl?" (which is what we were hoping for). The doctor said no, and she said, "Healthy is what we aim for." She said it with a smile on her face, but I could tell something was wrong by the look in her eye.

After a while, she said, "I'm going to have you go into the ultrasound room. I can't see very well with the portable machine and I want to get a real good look to make sure everything is going ok."

So, they moved me into the ultrasound room, with my husband sitting beside me. I had a sinking feeling that the baby was gone; but I was hoping that at the last minute, the doctor was going to find her and say, "Oh! There she is! And she looks great!" But deep down I knew that wasn't going to happen.

She asked me if she wanted to turn the TV screen on (the screen that's hooked up to the ultrasound machine so we could see everything that was going on. I knew I should have said no, because somehow I knew what we would find, but I had to see her, at least one more time.

She looked so perfect. So tiny, she looked so peaceful, like she was curled up and taking a nap. It took my breath away for a second, until I realized there was something missing. The space in her chest where I had seen her heart beat just a few weeks ago was gone. There was nothing. No color, no evidence of a heart at all.

THe doctor looked at me and said, "Sweetie, I'm not seeing a heartbeat. I'm going to go grab Dr. Long and see if I can get a second opinion."

Dr. Long came in and asked to see the placenta on the ultrasound machine. Everything got quiet for a second, and then he said, "The placenta is completely unattached." Then he shook his head and said, "No. I'm sorry." and then walked out.

I was kind of expecting it. I remember the night before, I was laying in bed, talking to God. I said, "God, everything is in your plan, and I don't feel pregnant anymore. I think something has happened to the baby. I'm hoping not, but if it did, it's ok; it's part of your plan and you know what's best for me better than I do. I can handle it."

But when Eric and I went back into the doctor's room, I lost it. I didn't think it was going to hit me that hard. Suddenly I took everything back. In my head, I screamed, "God, this was NOT fair. I know I said it was OK, but this is NOT OK! I am NOT OK WITH THIS! We wanted this baby more than anything and this wasn't supposed to happen!"

I felt so bad, like, my little chat with God had somehow urged him to take her from me. But then the doctor said that the baby was only measuring at 11 weeks, which meant I lost it abut two weeks ago and didnt realize it.

I had to go in for a D&C this morning since I couldn't miscarry on my own. I've been numb because #1, I've had a dead baby inside me for weeks. #2, I JUST saw her heart beat a few weeks ago. She was kicking and VERY MUCH alive and healthy. I don't understand. and #3, when the operation was done, I was like, "It's over. The baby is gone."

I just don't think it's hit me yet. Not completely. I just don't understand. I ate healthy, stayed away from crap food, tried to walk a bit everyday, I don't smoke or drink, and I talked to the baby and told her we loved her and I told her how much we wanted her and we couldn't wait to meet her in November. I thought maybe if I could talk to her and urge her to get big and healthy that maybe she would, not matter what. Turns out that love can't save people.

My husband has been amazing. He'd been there when I've cried. he's been pampering me and making me stay home from work and off my feet for now; he's even promised to clean the house (which is yet to be seen). But I cant help but worry.

This is the second time we've lost a baby. I know that it isnt only affecting me. It's affecting him, too. He has told me that he tried to take care of me and that maybe he shouldn't have smoked around me, but we both know it isn't his fault. He's not the one who was carrying the baby and he's not the one the baby depended on to stay alive.

I'm worried that this is going to take a toll on him and he's going to leave me. Before we got pregnant, Dr. Long told me I had an infection and gave me antibiotics to take care of it. I didn't take them. I took two pills and then stopped taking them. I still had the infection when I got pregnant and that's what killed the baby. I killed my baby because I didnt want to take little white fucking pills that would have saved my baby's life. How did I think I could be a mother again if I didn't even want to take pills to keep myself healthy enough to carry my future child?

We've already brought up the subject of trying again for a baby. Again. We've already bought a bassinet and diapers, so why not? Because if this happens again, I'm not sure that I could handle it. I don't know that I want to try anymore. We did try and it didn't work. We already have 3 boys between the two of us, and they're perfect. Why ruin what we already have if we cant be sure that we can have what we're trying for?

But I know that we will eventually try again. For my husband's sake. He wants a little girl really bad. And my 8 year old and 4 year old want a baby sister. My 2 year old doesn't care either way but he thinks he's 6 and he can handle anything as long as his 4 year old brother is by his side, of course. I want to do this for them, and for my husband.

But just, for once, I want him to yell at me. I want him to be angry with me. I want him to tell me this is my fault. I want him to tell me to get off the couch and stop crying because I had this coming. I want someone else to be angry with me besides me.