I think one of the biggest things in this world that people do/ or even don’t understand is that you can’t allow certain things to control or run your life.
May 31st, I could have laid in bed all day. I could have cried to my hearts content all day. I could have asked my husband to stay home from work again with me that day. I could have decided right then and there that I didn’t believe that God was working with me anymore. I could have panicked and not went on with a normal routine. I could have stared in the mirror all day at myself asking why me, but I didn’t. I didn’t do any of that. I woke up that day, and I forced myself to put on my work out clothes. I made myself go on the short 1 mile run through my neighborhood. I made myself do those crunches and sit ups, and yoga under the carport. I cried. I cried a lot. I prayed. I went through every single emotion that I believe I was suppose to go through. I took my hot shower, I shaved my legs. (Now you all know when you go through the shaving and conditioning routine, you are in the shower forever and you feel like a queen after.) I cried some more. I brushed my hair and did my mascara, I put on my new t shirt that my hubby bought me the day before to make me feel better. I went and got my normal, 3 week massage. It was amazing, as always. I cried some more. I even cried to a Lil Dicky song. I went to Smoothie King for $5 32 OZ Friday’s. (Yeah if you didn’t know, now you do.) My husband checked in with me. I was fine. I didn’t lie, I told him I was doing better. And I was. You know why I was doing better? Because I got up. I did the things that make me feel human. The things that keep me grounded here. I didn’t have to hide my feelings. I didn’t want to hide them. I watched my favorite show, and it made me laugh. SHOUT OUT TO GOLDEN GIRLS. My husband got home, and we went out with friends. And every day after May 31st, I took it one day at a time. I was healing from my first miscarriage, and I think I took it pretty well.
May 20, I took 3 pregnancy tests that resulted in positive little plus signs. I was scared shitless, even though we have been trying for 3 years, along with being diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes, and switching between like 3 or 4 doctors to finally even determine what my issue was with not being able to get pregnant. My last and now final, current doc is AMAZING and she did conclude that we might not be able to conceive on our own, without SOME kind of help. She said that fertility medicine should do the trick. I put it off in March, after talking to my hubby because I was embarking on a career change. (I was going from dental profession to crime/police department, I had to be in my best shape.) Well April came around, and BAM guess who conceived on our wedding anniversary? We did! May 20th was the day I finally caved and peed on a few more sticks. This counts with the countless others, I mean I use to buy them things in bulk and they are EXPENSIVE! Well, one came up positive and so did two more. Well shit. My husband was OVER THE MOON! Shocked, as well since we were told it most likely wasn’t going to happen on our own. But hey, who knew?? We told our family a few days later. I was worried though. Because I knew my health status, and the possibilities. I let my husband have his moment. I can’t even begin to tell you how excited we were. We had 9 and like 3/4 quarters of a day in PURE joy and happiness. Not like we don’t have that anyway, but this is different.
On the 10th day he went to my now second appointment with me, I was a high risk at that point, so was going in every week. This was my second time. I was almost 8 weeks pregnant. My last appointment, I got to see you. I got to see your little sac attached to me. The moment I seen you, I think is the moment I realized I was a mom. Even though you weren’t even here yet, I was. I knew it. So when your dad wanted to see you, you weren’t there. You were gone.
I was high risk. We weren’t suppose to conceive on our own. This little baby was a miracle baby, pretty much. I was bleeding from the start. From the time I started bleeding to the very end, even after the miscarriage, I bled for 26 days straight. Including when you left my body, and a little after. My progesterone was SO low. I was on suppositories, plus my diabetic medicine and pre-natal pills. You weren’t attaching all the way. It was just normal miscarriage, nothing left at the end, which didn’t put me in any danger. I knew when it happened. It happened on May 28th around 2 am. I wasn’t for sure. But my husband kept reassuring me, that me and you were okay. That day when my doc broke the news, we cried and cried and yeah we pretty much cried all day. Its a normal reaction. I have never seen my husband so heartbroken. I had to keep telling myself it wasn’t my fault. It was not my fault. This baby was so wanted. So loved already, just after 10 days.
We got home after my apt, it was a early one. My husband turned on Golden Girls for me, and laid me out some pajamas, and made me some food. We cried together. We cuddled and cried all day. Later that afternoon we told our families over the phone. By around 6 pm, we were over sitting around and crying. We went shopping for our upcoming camping trip. The hubs bought me two t shirts that I wanted in hopes I would feel better. We made dinner and watched a movie. The movie was sad, so we cried some more. The next morning, I panicked. My husband had to go back to work. I don’t really know why I panicked. I just didn’t want to fall into a depression. My body was still suffering from the miscarriage. I was still bloated. I still felt pregnant. But I pulled myself together. I got up. I went through my routine. I am OKAY. Today is August 9th. We are still trying, but we are focusing on other things.
(My little, bloated baby bump BLOATED belly to the left)
Ladies I know it might make you feel inhumane, but you are not alone. It does, and it is a terrible feeling, knowing that one of the many reasons that God put you and I on this earth is so we can birth perfect little babies. I don’t understand it either, but take it one day at a time. It is what has helped me through all these years. Having a great support system helps too. You really just have to stay positive, and MAKE YOURSELF GET OUT OF BED IN THE MORNING! Once you get past that, which is the hardest step, you got this in the bag.
One day we will have a little Rainbow baby, and I will never forget my first baby. I just have to keep hope and faith.