The [boring] life of a SAHM

Warning: This is graphic. You may not want to read this if you're a male or just have a weak stomach.

Tomorrow will be exactly one year since my 9 week miscarriage. It's probably going to be tough..but maybe a little easier since I'm pregnant and things are going well? I know if I weren't pregnant it would be horrible...

It gets easier as time goes by but my heart still aches for the baby I never got to meet. I believe that s/he is in Heaven and that one day I will get to meet him/her, but that doesn't make the pain go away right now. I still remember that day like it was yesterday.

The thought of red blood makes me cringe. I think I will still have a problem with it even when it's just AF. It's that color of blood that cruelly changed my world that morning.

I was just walking around the house cleaning when I felt 'wet' down there. I assumed it was discharge. They always say you get more of it when you're pregnant. I did a little more cleaning and then went to the bathroom. I saw bright red blood on the toilet paper and immediatly broke into tears. I sat there crying for a good 5 minutes before I text DH to tell him what happened. He immediatly left work to take me to the ER. The wait was torturous.

I was shaking the whole time I was in the waiting room, trying to think of possible reasons I could be bleeding that didn't mean miscarriage. Finally, my name was called. I walked back to a room with a nurse. She asked me lots of questions, had me get undressed and told me the doctor would be in soon.

At first the bleeding was very light so I had no problem sitting there on the table naked. I was just spotting so I didn't think too much of it. But as I sat there waiting for the doctor the bleeding picked up. I knew that wasn't good. The doctor came in and looked at my cervix. Said it was closed so it *may* not be a miscarriage. A slight glimmer of hope.

He got the nurse to draw blood so we could see where my hcg was at. Soon, they came in with the results. "How far along are you again?" the doctor asked. "9 weeks" I replied. "Well. Your hcg # is that of someone who is 7 weeks. Are you sure your dates are correct?" "Yes" I said. There went that hope, right out the window.

They wanted to an ultrasound on me, but didn't have an opening for another 3 days. So they sent me home and told me to come back on Monday. What a looong weekend. I was put on bedrest for those 3 days in hopes that the bleeding would slow down, or better yet, stop completely. Even though I was on bedrest the bleeding picked up. On day #2 I was having heavy bleeding and passing large clots. I knew what was going on yet somehow I still had hope. On that day I had to see what no mother should ever see. I saw my baby. Tiny, still in the sack. I didn't know what to do with it. I eventually decided to just flush it/throw it away.

Around here they won't test for cause of miscarriage unless you have had several. So the Hospital didn't need it. I think that was the hardest thing I've ever been through. All my hope was shattered that day. I was not looking forward to Monday but it rolled around and there I was getting an ultrasound.

I knew something was wrong when she wouldn't point the screen in my direction. She didn't speak. I asked her what she saw and she told me she isn't allowed to say. That right there gave it away. After about 10 minutes of being violated with her wand (or like Tiff says-"dildo cam" ) I was sent into the waiting room to wait for the doctor.

He called my name and we went into his office. He told me my uterus was empty. I already knew that but just hearing it really hit me. I burst out in uncontrollable tears as he tried to comfort us and find a box of tissues. I really liked that doctor though. He was so nice. He really did try to make us feel better. He was having a hard time finding a box of tissues that wasn't empty so he said (holding up his Rx pad) "Here, would you like this?" It made me laugh. I still laugh looking back on that. Most doctors aren't very compassionate and even fewer would joke about giving you his blank prescription pad.

We left his office and I cried all the way out to the car, all the way home and when I got home I just collapsed on the bed and cried for hours. I wanted my baby back and I didn't understand how this could happen to me. It was always one of those things that "happen to someone else, but not me."

I know everything happens for a reason. I know the reason this happened. It led me to God. Before that baby, I was "atheist." But when I feared losing my baby Josh talked me into praying. I prayed and prayed and prayed that I could keep the baby, that nothing was wrong. That weekend waiting for the ultrasound I even got saved. Yes, it may not have been for the "right" reasons. I feel I was being selfish. The Sunday before my ultrasound I went to church, didn't really enjoy it though. I sat there looking down the whole time trying not to cry. The church came over and prayed for me and for the baby.
I didn't really want to be there. I was still a little weary of this 'Christian' thing that Josh had recently gotten into. I followed only because I thought if I went to church I could keep my baby. But you know what? After I lost my baby, I continued to go. I'm not sure why. It's like I was drawn back there. I kept going ever since then. I've only missed a handful of Sundays in the year that it's been. It's like I'm addicted. :)

I may have lost my baby but I found Jesus.


*Sorry for the graphic details. It helps to write about it and to tell my story. It's like some sort of release for me. It makes me feel a little bit better. I miss my little one so much.*