I've never written about this. I never thought I would. But I think it's time that I let it out - and I will try not to cry as I write it. It's a sad story, but I think that by letting it out, it will help me move on.
Before and after I was dx'ed with PCOS, I took pregnancy tests almost every month. If AF didn't show up, I was at Dollar Tree buying a test. In my heart I wished I would get two pink lines, but in my head I knew it wouldn't happen. So I did my best not to get my hopes up. But in late March of 2008, I got those two lines. I hadn't told Hubs I was taking a test because I saw the heartbreak in his eyes after every previous one.
I don't remember the topic of conversation when I walked into the living room that day. He was hanging out with a friend when I sat down on the couch. He asked me a question, and I responded with 'maybe in 8 or 9 months'. He was ecstatic. He couldn't believe it, and he was so happy. Then he laid his head in my lap, ear on my belly, and just listened. There were some tears of joy, and for the next few weeks we were blissfully happy. I started being careful with what I ate, taking prenatal vitamins, and quit smoking cold turkey.
Then April 13th happened. The pain was unlike any other PMS cramp I have ever had. I laid in bed, hoping that it would go away. I called my mom, crying because I was afraid that I wouldn't be pregnant much longer. I wanted so bad to snap my fingers and make the pain disappear. And Hubs. He laid in bed next to me, trying not to cry. He knew what was happening too. After several hours of pain that wasn't subsiding with any painkillers, we went to the hospital. I told them I was pregnant, and they whisked me back for testing. I begged them to let Hubs come back with me, but they wouldn't. When they took me in for an ultrasound, I went alone. I kept thinking this might be the only time we get to see our baby, and they won't let him stay with me. I cried the whole time. The woman doing the ultrasound wouldn't let me see the screen.
I was taken to another room to wait for the doctor. They finally let Hubs back to be with me. The doctor came in, with crappy bedside manner, and said 'You aren't pregnant. By the test results, you haven't been for at least a week.' I was diagnosed with abnormal uterine cramping and sent home. And I went numb, for days, if not weeks. The previous month we were so excited about the baby, and now we didn't have one. No more reasons to take care of myself. What's the point of prenatal vitamins without a baby? Why should I quit smoking if I'm not pregnant?
I will never know if I truly miscarried, or if I got a false positive on that pregnancy test. I don't believe it really mattered. Whether we were pregnant or not, it still hurt. That was 5 years ago. And not a day goes by when I don't think about that horrible day in April, the day I knew I lost my baby.
There are a lot of people that have never heard this story. A lot of the ones that do felt it was probably a good thing. But unless they've ever experienced anything like it, they won't know. They won't understand. They don't feel the heartbreak. We never got to name our child, as we lost it so early. It's just Baby. Our baby. The one we never got to see. The heartbeat we never got to hear. The toes and fingers we never got to count. The love we will never be able to show. The life that will never be.
Before and after I was dx'ed with PCOS, I took pregnancy tests almost every month. If AF didn't show up, I was at Dollar Tree buying a test. In my heart I wished I would get two pink lines, but in my head I knew it wouldn't happen. So I did my best not to get my hopes up. But in late March of 2008, I got those two lines. I hadn't told Hubs I was taking a test because I saw the heartbreak in his eyes after every previous one.
I don't remember the topic of conversation when I walked into the living room that day. He was hanging out with a friend when I sat down on the couch. He asked me a question, and I responded with 'maybe in 8 or 9 months'. He was ecstatic. He couldn't believe it, and he was so happy. Then he laid his head in my lap, ear on my belly, and just listened. There were some tears of joy, and for the next few weeks we were blissfully happy. I started being careful with what I ate, taking prenatal vitamins, and quit smoking cold turkey.
Then April 13th happened. The pain was unlike any other PMS cramp I have ever had. I laid in bed, hoping that it would go away. I called my mom, crying because I was afraid that I wouldn't be pregnant much longer. I wanted so bad to snap my fingers and make the pain disappear. And Hubs. He laid in bed next to me, trying not to cry. He knew what was happening too. After several hours of pain that wasn't subsiding with any painkillers, we went to the hospital. I told them I was pregnant, and they whisked me back for testing. I begged them to let Hubs come back with me, but they wouldn't. When they took me in for an ultrasound, I went alone. I kept thinking this might be the only time we get to see our baby, and they won't let him stay with me. I cried the whole time. The woman doing the ultrasound wouldn't let me see the screen.
I was taken to another room to wait for the doctor. They finally let Hubs back to be with me. The doctor came in, with crappy bedside manner, and said 'You aren't pregnant. By the test results, you haven't been for at least a week.' I was diagnosed with abnormal uterine cramping and sent home. And I went numb, for days, if not weeks. The previous month we were so excited about the baby, and now we didn't have one. No more reasons to take care of myself. What's the point of prenatal vitamins without a baby? Why should I quit smoking if I'm not pregnant?
I will never know if I truly miscarried, or if I got a false positive on that pregnancy test. I don't believe it really mattered. Whether we were pregnant or not, it still hurt. That was 5 years ago. And not a day goes by when I don't think about that horrible day in April, the day I knew I lost my baby.
There are a lot of people that have never heard this story. A lot of the ones that do felt it was probably a good thing. But unless they've ever experienced anything like it, they won't know. They won't understand. They don't feel the heartbreak. We never got to name our child, as we lost it so early. It's just Baby. Our baby. The one we never got to see. The heartbeat we never got to hear. The toes and fingers we never got to count. The love we will never be able to show. The life that will never be.
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