September 9th I got the best news imaginable – a positive pregnancy test! I was beyond excited. My hands were shaking and I wanted to scream the news from the rooftops. I decided to keep it to myself though, with my history and being high risk I knew there was a chance the pregnancy wouldn’t be viable. I only told one person and that’s my friend who took me to the doctor. Go in thinking you have a UTI come out pregnant – awesome!
September 13th I went for my first ultrasound. Hearing that heartbeat was such an amazing experience. It was like that missing piece of my soul fell into place. Does that make sense? My hands were shaking from the excitement and I dropped my ultrasound printout in the water fountain. They laughed at me and told me it happens a bit. They gave me a disc with the images so I could print them out and share with everyone. I still hadn’t told anyone.
At home I put up a good front. I drank with John but while he was drinking alcohol I was drinking OJ and grenadine ;). “Oops, I have my period” was an excuse I used to get out of doing the deed because I was terrified something would happen to the baby. I guess you could say I was overprotective.
Then the night before John broke up with me I decided it was time to tell him. I wanted to wake him up and tell him right then but I decided to wait until the next morning. I put together a box with a note explaining my weird behavior and how much I love him and, uh, congrats! you’re going to be a dad again. Instead he told me he didn’t love me and left.
I never did give him the box or tell him about the baby. I couldn’t. I refused to be one of those girls who traps a guy into staying. I was determined to do this on my own. So I kept my secret. Until October 12th when I started to bleed. I hadn’t been able to hold any food down for a week and had made an appointment with the doctor. But I was so scared I went to the Emergency Care center that Saturday. The labs came back with my progesterone level being greatly depleted. The vaginal ultrasound was unable to detect a heartbeat. Then he apologized and told me the baby was gone. Just like that. If I had been a couple weeks further there might have been a chance; but I was only 10 weeks.
It was a missed miscarriage and I opted to take the “watch and wait” method as opposed to a D&C. I just wasn’t ready to let go yet. I went to the doctor on the 15th and they tried the Fetal Heart Rate Monitor. Still no heartbeat. They gave me Misoprostol and I went home to go through labor. Alone. On the bathroom floor. I can’t explain how painful – emotionally and physically – that was. To know I was all alone through this.
10 weeks is how long I carried this miracle inside of me. 10 weeks is how long I felt whole and complete. Then in just 2 weeks my entire world was torn apart. Now I live with the reality that I killed my baby. I wasn’t strong enough to disregard the stress and pain from being cheated on and lied to. I wasn’t strong enough for my baby and I killed it. How does one live with that fact?