Life is just a leap of faith, spread your arms and hold your breath, always trust your cape
I apologize in advanced if you are someone reading this who feels like you should have been told in person. Honestly, I wanted to shout it to the world and tell any poor soul who would listen. However, it all changed before it got that far.
As of Friday, I was 8 weeks pregnant. That also happens to be the day we found out we lost the baby. Needless to say, we are heartbroken. We had an idea this might be coming when at 7 weeks at my first appointment we saw a baby who was just a little too small and a heartbeat that was just a little too slow. We were optimistically hopeful, while at the same time being scared to death. It was the longest week of my life, trying to still believe I was pregnant and trying not to imagine the beating heart inside of me fizzling out.
Can I stop for a moment just to say how amazing my husband is? The most powerful thing anyone said to me all week was when he told me that this wasn't science, it was a baby. Nothing logical or scientific could explain what was happening to my baby, it just was. It was a miracle regardless of the outcome. We created something the size of a sweetpea with a beating heart and that was a miracle.
I don't have much emotion other than sadness. I guess at times I might be angry, but mostly just sad. I'm ready for it to be over, as I'm still walking around with my unborn child inside me and it's honestly just too much. I go in on Tuesday to have a D&C because my body just isn't giving up. It was stifling to sit in that exam room and not see that little heartbeat again that I had prayed for every single second of every single day to hear. I'm not angry God didn't answer my prayers. I'm not angry when people tell me it was meant to be. I'm not angry that my body is deceiving me and failed to create a perfect baby.
I'm angry that people have what I want so badly. That the experience was so amazing wonderful and so abruptly heartbreaking all in a matter of weeks. I'm angry I'm part of this club that 1 in 3 women experience and that the commonality of it hardly makes it comforting.
I suppose it's hard to imagine loving something so small, so barely viable, and something that was just beyond the beginning of a dream. But then again, as complex as love is, it's simple and it was simply impossible not to love this baby. I have heard all the things you are not supposed to say to a woman who is having a miscarriage and they've been said to me many times over. These things don't bother me though. Logically, I know all of the reasons and I know people are just sad for me. I'm sad for me too.
As of Friday, I was 8 weeks pregnant. That also happens to be the day we found out we lost the baby. Needless to say, we are heartbroken. We had an idea this might be coming when at 7 weeks at my first appointment we saw a baby who was just a little too small and a heartbeat that was just a little too slow. We were optimistically hopeful, while at the same time being scared to death. It was the longest week of my life, trying to still believe I was pregnant and trying not to imagine the beating heart inside of me fizzling out.
Can I stop for a moment just to say how amazing my husband is? The most powerful thing anyone said to me all week was when he told me that this wasn't science, it was a baby. Nothing logical or scientific could explain what was happening to my baby, it just was. It was a miracle regardless of the outcome. We created something the size of a sweetpea with a beating heart and that was a miracle.
I don't have much emotion other than sadness. I guess at times I might be angry, but mostly just sad. I'm ready for it to be over, as I'm still walking around with my unborn child inside me and it's honestly just too much. I go in on Tuesday to have a D&C because my body just isn't giving up. It was stifling to sit in that exam room and not see that little heartbeat again that I had prayed for every single second of every single day to hear. I'm not angry God didn't answer my prayers. I'm not angry when people tell me it was meant to be. I'm not angry that my body is deceiving me and failed to create a perfect baby.
I'm angry that people have what I want so badly. That the experience was so amazing wonderful and so abruptly heartbreaking all in a matter of weeks. I'm angry I'm part of this club that 1 in 3 women experience and that the commonality of it hardly makes it comforting.
I suppose it's hard to imagine loving something so small, so barely viable, and something that was just beyond the beginning of a dream. But then again, as complex as love is, it's simple and it was simply impossible not to love this baby. I have heard all the things you are not supposed to say to a woman who is having a miscarriage and they've been said to me many times over. These things don't bother me though. Logically, I know all of the reasons and I know people are just sad for me. I'm sad for me too.