Goodbye, Little One

This story is the hardest one I’ve ever put to paper. I’ve been told many things over the last 2 years; it gets easier, at least you have Remington, it will happen someday, relax. Every single time it hurts to know that they don’t quite understand. All from people who should empathize with what it is like to lose someone you love. My heart still grieves. I lost a part of me that day, knowing it will never return.

 

2 pink lines stared back at me. My heart filled with joy. It had happened! I was pregnant with our second child. I couldn’t contain my excitement and told Jack the moment he got home from work. I wanted to scream it to the world, I had beaten the odds. 4 months of trying, and we were blessed with a miracle. It was almost surreal, everything went as exactly planned. Doctors appointment to confirm it, and I was walking on air. This baby was already so loved. I day dreamed of a little girl, or a little boy, who looked like Remi, and was his little shadow.

I had a tiny bit of morning sickness, which was a blessing. No one liked being sick all the time. The months passed quickly, and soon it was Christmas. Jack and I decided to tell our families on that holiday, we were almost to the 3 month point anyways and everything was perfect. I got pictures done up with small references to expect a baby in July. My Mom, Grandma, and brother opened their cards, their responses varied from joy to horror. My Brother was unsure if he could handle another nephew or niece. I was hugged, and I couldn’t have been happier. My Dad opened that same card and his reaction, makes tears of joy come to my eyes every time.  He immediately cried, and in that moment, I couldn’t have loved my Dad more. He was so excited to be a grandfather again. We were congratulated, and I beamed at the thought of my child meeting this family in a little over 6 months.

 

Jacks family took the news with less enthusiasm but was still pleased to hear of our news. Life could not have gotten any better. We were so excited to be able to share with our friends and family. It lasted exactly 1 day.

The next day I began to spot. Every woman is told it is normal to spot while pregnant, so I ignored my worry and kept on with my day. The next morning, it was worse. I tried to relax, but I was beginning to freak out. By noon, it had gotten to the point that I couldn’t deny that something was very wrong. I called Jack, in tears, to come get me. That drive to the Emergency was the longest of my life. I prayed, I wished, I cried as I went through all the emotions of fear. Jack dropped me off at the front doors, and then took Remi to go play. We had decided it would be best if I stayed at the emergency alone. I checked in, and sat down.

Keeping my eyes low, scared someone might see the panic in my eyes. Please God, please let my baby be okay. I sat in that chair for an hour before the nurse called my name. I walked through the doors to sit at a desk and have her ask me what was wrong. I broke. I couldn’t hold back the flood. I’m not sure she even understood me until I calmed myself down enough to be heard. “I think I’m losing my baby. I’m eleven weeks.” She looked worried as she began taking my blood pressure, temperature and pulse. Everything came back normal, and she sent me back out the doors until a room was available. I knew my eyes were puffy, red, and my nose ran like a water fountain. One woman in front of me gave a half smile of sympathy and I looked away, unable to respond to the small amount of kindness.

 

I didn’t wait long until I was called to a room. They closed the door behind me, and I sat on the bed. Waiting for someone to tell me it was going to be alright. My thoughts swirled in my head, and the Know-it-all in my head, repeated, “You’re going to lose your baby.” I couldn’t stop the thought. It returned with every passing second. Finally a young man came in with a woman, and I was asked to remove my pants so they could examine me. I looked down at the pad that I had worn; blood. Please no.  I was completely defeated as I went to lie on the bed. I know the ‘student’ doctor was cute, but at that time, nothing registered but the pain in my heart.  “I am just going to check to see if your cervix is closed.” His intrusion made me cry out in pain. The woman grabbed my hand, whispering that I would be okay. I wanted to go home, and cry my heart out.  He removed his glove, but not before I could see it was also covered in bright-red fluid. “The opening is still closed. That is a good sign. I would like to take an ultrasound just to be sure.” I nodded as they both walked out the door. Leaving me alone, I cried until I felt my heart die a little. Why was this happening? What had I done wrong? What had I done to deserve this?

 

After my break down, I donned my pants and looked at myself in the mirror. I was unrecognizable. My eyes were swollen and blood shot, my face was puffy, and I looked closer to death than to someone who; only the day before thought life was perfect. I texted Jack, telling him I was still waiting, then shut my phone off. I had no one I wanted to tell about my suffering. A Lab technician opened the door, and she never looked me in the eye once. I must have been a complete mess. She readied my arm for the needle, and I barely felt the poke. I was on pilot mode. Just going through the motions. Once the Lab Tech left, the Student returned with an ultrasound machine. I showed my belly as he squirted some cold jelly on my lower abdomen. He pushed hard on my pelvis, making me wince, and I wanted to see the screen, but he made sure it was out of my line of sight.

“This is not a very good ultrasound machine so I can’t be sure of anything. I will go get the Doctor and maybe he can take a better look.” Like that, he was gone. I sat up hoping to see the screen, but it showed a black nothingness. This was a nightmare. Please wake up. I just wanted to be told everything was okay, instead of being told nothing.

Another Doctor came in, and he immediately went to work on seeing what he could find. I laid there looking at the ceiling, pretending this was all a dream. It couldn’t be real. “I can’t see enough, so I will send you for an ultrasound tomorrow. I can’t tell you either way if you are miscarrying or not. Just call at 8 AM, and they will make an appointment for you.” Then he was gone. I texted Jack, and collected my things. The woman who had held my hand came in the room, “Did they tell you anything?” I couldn’t respond for a moment, fearing my voice was gone.

“They can’t tell me anything.” I walked away, not hearing her response. I was dead inside. It was clear that my baby would never be born. I would never get to hold her or him. Get to see their smiles, laughter, or first words. It was the end. The end of a dream. I walked out of the exit, knowing I had lost a piece of myself that day.