Warning: This blog is about miscarriage and may contain graphic sentences you don't want to envision. If that bothers you, please stop reading now.
On Wednesday morning, I woke up and took Cole to school. Since I'd been feeling a little off, I stopped at CVS and ran home to take a pregnancy test before meeting for a play date at the park. I popped those two pee sticks in the car to 'think' and five minutes down the road, this is what I found:
I went into the park, saw the pirate mommas, and eventually spilled my news like I was talking about some stranger... After two miscarriages, you tend to get a little distant from your pregnancies during the early stages in case it doesn't end up resulting in a baby. On Thursday night I had coffee with fellow pirate Emily and came home feeling excited. I started thinking maybe this one will stick, maybe this one is meant to be, maybe Cole and Stella are meant to have a little brother or sister. I already had a name chosen (Everley Mae or Asher Miles from our previous name choices)...
At 3 am Friday morning, I woke up to pee and had some slight bleeding. At 8 am, I woke up covered in blood and immediately freaked out. Shaking and crying hysterically in the bathroom, the miscarriage started as soon as I sat down on the toilet. I cried even harder and tried to wipe the blood off of myself, until finally giving in and moving blindly toward the shower running, where I knew my husband would be. I climbed in the shower and shook, holding him and howling hysterically because we had just lost another baby.
Since then, I have been resting and trying to keep my thoughts in check. Kevin is taking care of the kids and making sure I get enough to eat and drink.
My first miscarriage happened when Cole was 7 months old. It was a blighted ovum, where my body thinks I'm pregnant and a gestational sac grows, but no baby grows inside it. That really made us want to try for another baby, which resulted in Stella being born in December 2010.
My second miscarriage occurred in April 2012, without my knowledge. After missing my period and getting a positive test, I started the next morning and got a negative test. The ultrasound established the pregnancy had been on my left side and had occurred so early on that I wouldn't have even known if I wasn't so aware of my body.
This time, I knew I was pregnant and was hopeful, but it didn't take. Blood tests showed my progesterone levels were low, making the uterus lining unable to carry the pregnancy. Most likely, this was the case in the April miscarriage, too.
So here I sit, on my third miscarriage with two beautiful babies I am able to hold in my arms to get me through this. I am so grateful for their love and the support of my husband and amazing women who have been there, or haven't been there and just want to show their love and support.
Miscarriage is something no one ever talks about; why shouldn't we? Isn't it better to know we're not alone than to suffer through it in silence?