Photo by kudomomo
As I mentioned in Miscarriage Basics, the main reason I have done this series is to share my experiences and Isaiah’s story so that hurting women can read it, and perhaps be helped in the way that I was. I am thankful and grateful to the brave souls who opened up their hearts and shared intimate parts of themselves through blogs and books. It was a great source of comfort and encouragement to know I wasn’t alone. With that being said, this post will be an honest recollection of the events that transpired and the reactions I had. It is going to be detailed. I have been praying for about a month now that the Lord would show me what was appropriate to share. As I was getting ready to publish this, the Lord gave me peace about it by showing me Isaiah 6:8. I’ll talk more about that later but now, here is my story…
We’d been married for about nine months. Sunday had been my birthday and we had went out to eat. Monday morning I woke up dreadfully nausea. I called in sick to work and stayed home. I thought perhaps something I had eaten had caused it. Later that day I began to feel better. Tuesday morning I woke up ill again, this time with vomiting. I thought I must have the flu. Scott wasn’t feeling so well either so he stayed home too. I was lying there in bed and I suddenly thought, “I wonder if I am pregnant?”. It was certainly a posibilty since though we weren’t trying, we weren’t not trying either. I immediately leapt out of bed and rushed to the drugstore for a test that confirmed it. I was shocked! We had talked about it in the past month and had not really been trying but not not trying either. I don’t know why I was so surprised, but I was. And I was happy, so happy, excited, scared and happy! We told everyone in the world (or at least I did!) and a few weeks later, I had already bought the stroller, car seat and playpen. January 17th we had our first ultrasound. Our sweet baby was a tiny dot. I didn’t even know where the baby was until the ultrasound guy showed me the little dot inside a bigger black dot. It didn’t look like a baby on the screen – at least not to me. But it didn’t matter; we showed everyone our first baby’s picture! February 15th I had written my first little “letter” to our baby about how thankful I was for this baby and how I am praying that God would help me to be a good mommy. Friday February 17th, 2006 I had my first prenatal visit and everything looked good and Saturday I went and bought my first maternity clothes. What fun it was trying things on, envisioning my blossoming figure!
Sunday night, there a tiny amount of spotting, dark brown in color on my underwear. I really do mean tiny. I thought nothing of it. Monday and Tuesday there was a bit more and I wore a panty liner but honestly, it seemed like such a small amount. Wednesday morning it was a little heavier, and I was getting concerned. It was like at the end of your period but at this point, I still didn’t think anything serious was wrong. Miscarriages happen to ‘other’ people. I was healthy, Scott was healthy; what could go wrong?!? I called the doctor who told me to just take it easy that day and she would see me the following day. I took the day off work and lounged around the house. I was sort of worried and felt a bit crummy and out of sorts but even with what was going on, losing the baby was not even something that I considered might happen! Scott went to church that night, I went to bed early! I was so tired.
It Can’t be Happening!
I woke up just after 3am on Thursday morning with terrible cramps. I got out of bed to go to the washroom and there was a lot of bright red blood on my panties. Scott tells me I sort of moaned out “No, No, No” but I don’t recall much about that exact moment. I was crying and trying to wipe everything up, like it would stop it from happening. I was just starting my second trimester and into the ‘safe’ zone. We called the doctor’s afterhours line and spoke to a physician. He said to lie down and that there wasn’t anything that could be done right now. He would set up an emergency ultrasound first thing in the morning. I laid there praying and staring at the wall crying. The rest of the night went by so slowly. I cried, and cried, and kept getting up to pee, mostly to see if the bleeding had stopped and maybe everything would be OK. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I kept thinking it would stop at any moment and everything would be fine. I wasn’t really losing baby, it didn’t matter what it looked like, it was going to stop and everything would be fine.
I was told by someone that 500 to 1000 words is a good post length so, with that in mind, Isaiah’s story is actually broken up into three parts which will be posted over three Fridays. Thank you for visiting me today!