Pretty much from the moment I found out I was pregnant back in February, I thought about all the funny, sweet, crazy things I'd say in my blog when I was safely into my second trimester. I wanted to tell you about the day that I found out I was pregnant. I took the test (tests-I took 3) in the morning before my little boy woke up but after my husband had left for work. I got 3 (faint) positive tests. Of course, I was thrilled. I took my son to the playground to celebrate and gave him ice cream for lunch. Even though he didn't really understand what was going on, I kept telling him he was going to be a big brother.
When my husband came home from work, I told him that my hunch was right. He was thrilled too! Here we were-a happy family of 3 and a half. We told the rest of our family and our closest friends over the weekend. With my son, I waited to tell everyone "just in case", but I was too excited not to share our good news. We went car shopping that weekend and my husband even told the salesmen.
We spent the next week talking about which "family car" we'd buy and what baby name goes with our son's name. I like Madelyn Beatrix for a girl (so does my husband) and Sawyer James for a boy (my husband does not). I looked at baby bedding and started stalking the babycenter message boards. I don't know that we could have been happier.
Our happiness was short lived. Only a little more than a week after I found out I was pregnant, I woke up with cramping and bleeding. God works in strange ways. I don't usually get out of bed until after my husband leaves for work, but that morning I did. I called the doctor who told me to be at the office when it opened. They would see me right away.
There was no heartbeat. There was nothing to see. Just a dark emptiness. My doctor did blood work and told me to just rest for the weekend. She told me it was possible that we didn't see anything because it was too early in the pregnancy. She told me the bleeding could be nothing.
But I knew.
I spent the weekend in bed, trying to stay calm. I would fall asleep and wake up in a fog. I kept forgetting what was happening, but then it would come crashing back. I cried. I cried some more. And just when I thought I was okay, I cried even more.
When Monday came around and it was time to go back to the doctor, I was doing okay. When she told me that yes, I had lost the baby, I was okay. I didn't cry during the exam. I didn't cry when she asked me questions. But when she told me that it was possible I had a fertility problem and that it was unlikely my husband and I will be able to get pregnant again and carry to term without some kind of intervention, I cried. I don't know that I cried from sadness then as much as from shock, but it seemed like I had an endless supply of tears.
For the next month, I was in denial. I think I was trying to convince myself that the doctor was wrong and I was still pregnant, but again, I knew.
She was right.
So instead of sitting here telling you my happy, silly pregnancy stories with my laptop resting against my thirteen week pregnant belly, I am sitting here trying to work through the last two months in my head.
Today we received a bill from the doctor. It was for the ultrasound that confirmed my worst fear. Today my heart broke all over again and tonight I am grieving for my angel baby.