There's not much else to say besides that, but you know I'll say it anyway.
Friday was a nightmare. Never in my life have I gone into ANY appointment thinking it was going to go one way only to have it veer off in completely the opposite direction. Hearing the news that my baby wasn't there, that my pregnancy stopped at some point and I would miscarry imminently was quite literally the biggest shock I've ever had in my life. The wind was instantly out of my sails, my big giant red balloon of happiness and love and hope was instantly popped, and my heart literally broke into a thousand pieces as I stared at the empty circle on the screen.
Worse than that, when my doctor left the room so I could get dressed and get myself together, I tried to call my husband to tell him the horrible news -- and I couldn't get a hold of him. He knew what time my appointment was at, and he has his work cell phone on him at all times, and I kept hitting redial redial REDIAL and he wasn't answering. (Turns out, he was in meetings all morning in a conference room where he had no cell signal.)
I was furious. Furious and heartbroken and stunned by the whole situation. I called my mom instead, and from two hours away she had to listen to me sob about how my baby was gone.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of crying, disbelief, phone calls, well meaning family and friends sharing their condolences. Eventually, a phone call from Super Man, who hadn't heard my message yet and still thought everything was fine. He was shattered by the news that it was NOT fine.
I was numb. I still didn't believe it. I had no bleeding. No spotting. Everything still felt the same inside.
Saturday morning, Super Boy had a soccer game. I had started spotting that morning, but didn't feel too bad just yet, so I went to the game. He played so well, my little guy, and even though they lost their game it was just so nice to do something NORMAL. To be living life with my beautiful boy and my husband. We went home and had lunch. And then the pain and cramping started.
I was curled up in bed all afternoon and evening. I was told it would be like a slightly-heavier-than-normal period. It is definitely like that. Times ten. The cramping is awful. Not just in my uterus, but in my lower back. It feels like back labor, and I'm still having it today, two days later. The bleeding hasn't been so bad - I was told that if I was soaking maxi pads within an hour to go to the ER, but it's nowhere near that bad. And while I've passed a few clots, they're small: nickel- or quarter-sized, and only a few. No, the pain is by far the worst part. Tylenol will work for a little while, but it doesn't keep it fully at bay.
I literally spent the entire day in bed yesterday, moving my electric heating pad from my lower back to my belly and back again, all day - and all night - long. I woke up Sunday morning at 5am feeling sick from the pain, and nearly passed out. My stomach has been upset and I've had ZERO appetite. I keep drinking fluids and Gatorade, but I don't want to eat, feeling like this.
I can't tell you how much I want this part to be over. I pray for it to just be done. It's such an insult to injury to have to find out you've lost a pregnancy and try to process that emotionally and THEN have to physically endure the loss of what was. I wish I could just go to sleep and wake up in 3 days and have it be over and done with.
Clearly, this is the first time I've experienced this. Knowing now that this is what it is like, I think about the women whose fertility problem is repeated miscarriages, inability to maintain a pregnancy, and it makes me feel a little bit grateful that my fertility problem has been a sheer inability to get pregnant again. I cannot imagine going through the emotional and physical pain of this over and over again. That thought makes my heart absolutely break for women who have and do struggle with recurring miscarriages.
Someone on one of my local mom websites said to me after I shared the news of my miscarriage that she thinks it's admirable that I haven't wallowed in asking "why me?" over the past 4 years of trying to conceive, and especially now after this. She's only partly right, because of course I think that from time to time. Of course I've thought that in the past 4 days. But I don't voice it, and I don't allow myself to linger on that thought when it does cross my mind. Because as bad an experience as this has been for me, I know it could be so much worse. I know that millions of other people in the world have it so much worse than I do. Is this sad and frustrating and "unfair?" Sure; yes. But there are many sadder, more frustrating and infinitely more unfair things that happen to good people every single day. No matter how low I feel, I know that to be true.
And the truth is, I'm BLESSED. I am married to a wonderful man who loves me and provides for our family. I have a beautiful, smart, funny little boy, who I have come to see as even more of a miracle because I haven't been able to give him a little brother or sister and I now FULLY understand just how miraculous it is that I was able to have him. I have a loving, wonderful stepdaughter who has become like my own daughter over our years together. We have a roof over our heads, food on our table, beds to sleep in, families and friends who love us and care about us, and we enjoy a life that many, many others in the world do not. Things could be so much worse. For that reason, I'm grateful that this is the worst thing I've ever experienced.
Things will get better. I will feel better physically. I will make peace with it emotionally. We will move on. We will try again. And I believe that, eventually, we'll have another miracle. And we'll appreciate it that much more for having gone through this.
One day at a time.
With my heating pad on my back and hope in my heart,