Friday afternoon was our much anticipated ultrasound – I was 19 weeks. Justin and I met at the hospital and he was clearly anxious and excited to find out if we were having a boy or girl. You would have guessed he was a first time father. While we were waiting in the lobby they called me up to the front desk, Justin jumped up and followed me thinking they were ready for us (they only needed a copy of my insurance card). I too was excited, but I was more nervous. I just wanted to hear that our baby was growing and developing as he/she should. I was relieved to see our baby on the monitor in perfect form. As the technician took measurements I saw the head, a round little belly, ten little fingers and toes. But then I commented that I wasn’t seeing much movement. She continued taking a few more measurements then turned to me and told me there wasn’t a heartbeat. I swear I thought she was joking and the words nearly came out of my mouth, but then it hit me. We’d lost our baby.
While we waited for the specialist to speak to us, the technician asked if we wanted pictures, which I immediately knew I needed to have. He looked perfectly healthy. The specialist performed a quick ultrasound to verify what we all already knew and then started talking about our options. I’m too far along to perform a D&C so we were given two options. We could have a more involved surgery where I would be completely under while they remove the baby or we could be induced. I’m sure he went over all the pros/cons of both options, but I remember very little. When we left the hospital we had decided on having the surgery. Since I would be completely under he described it as less physically and emotionally difficult. It is also, by far, the quickest option. Laboring tends to take a long time since my body is nowhere close to being ready for labor. I couldn’t imagine going through all that to deliver a baby we don’t get to take home, it sounded unbearable. I also worried that seeing our baby at such a young gestation would be more traumatizing than helpful.
This weekend has been rough. Not only do I have to come to accept our loss, but deciding which option is going to be the best for me seems impossible. As I thought about having the surgery I couldn’t put aside the image that they would be removing the baby’s perfect little body piece by piece. It sounded so gruesome, though I knew there was no life there to destroy. Most miscarriages happen naturally much earlier in pregnancy, which of course carries the same sense of loss, but me, of all indecisive people, shouldn’t have to make a decision of which painful and traumatic method we will have to take to conclude this pregnancy. It seems so unfair. If the end result wasn’t going to be a plump little baby to love and raise, why endure five months of sickness and difficulty functioning on a daily basis. If I had to be counted among the women who’d lost babies I wanted to be among the ones that lost in the first month or so. I realized I needed to speak to someone who had experienced this. Losing a baby in the second trimester is rare and even more so when the body continues believing it is pregnant. Thankfully, a good friend was able to get me in touch with someone who has unfortunately experienced both the surgery and an induction/delivery. What I’d hoped was that someone, anyone, could tell me what was best for me. Of course, that didn’t happen, but I found it incredibly helpful to have someone that could not only empathize with me, but could understand my pain and heartbreak.
I know every expectant mother worries about something going wrong, but never before have thoughts over our baby’s wellbeing been more present than during this pregnancy. I asked Justin not to tell any of his co-workers we were expecting until after we’d found out the gender and were comfortably in the second trimester. I was hesitant to include the little blurp in our Christmas letter about having a baby in June. For months I have done my best to keep my bulging belly hidden by wearing large jackets and sweatshirts everyday. I’ve withheld from posting any detailed thoughts and feelings on the blog. Justin and I talked about taking Abigail and Carly to the ultrasound, but I didn’t want them there just in case things didn’t go well. Of course I kept all these concerns to myself and dismissed them as the usual motherly-worry. My worries in no way lessened my excitement and desire for this little one to join our family. I’ve taken every precaution to ensure a happy ending. I was only seven weeks long when we went to Disneyland and even though my doctor said I’d be fine to go on any of the rides, I kept to the kiddie-rides. In Hawaii last week I wouldn’t take any chances and stayed back at the hotel while Justin watched the sunrise from the top of Haleakala and biked down the mountain on his own. This baby was wanted and loved.
My emotions are so raw. Poor Justin is beside himself not knowing how to deal with a wife that is no longer impenetrable. I hesitate to share the details of this experience on the blog, but knowing that it’s our loved ones that read this I decided to post my thoughts. I’m not sure I have the capacity to share them any other way. I’ve known of a few women that have suffered miscarriages this past year and have read about their experiences and grief. People have miscarriages all the time. Of course I’ve always felt compassion for them, but inevitably chalked it up to just one of the many heartaches we all endure in life. I don’t see the light at the end of this, though I’m hopeful it’s out there somewhere. Unfortunately, things will only become more difficult as this week progresses. Please keep us in your thoughts and prayers as we face this week and the grieving process to follow.
