I knew I was pregnant. You know, that feeling you get when things don’t feel quite right? When you wake up vomiting?
Yeah, that’s how I knew FOR SURE I was pregnant.
I immediately texted my friends. I peed on a stick just to verify and sure enough, it turned bright pink. I took a pic and sent it to my husband. We pretty much knew – but this was just a friendly verification.
My husband and I had been trying and by trying I mean we high-fived in the hallway and BAM, pregnant.
So, this wasn’t a shock or a surprise. I quickly calculated the due date – Valentine’s Day. How fun! I was almost six weeks pregnant. Almost.
I didn’t tell my parents because I had this elaborate plan to surprise them with my pregnancy. They were planning to come visit me in a couple weeks and I was going to tell my mom that she needed to accompany me to a random appointment – only the appointment would be an ultrasound!
As the day went on I started to feel really sick. Not just my normal I’m sick from pregnancy but so sick that I could barely get off the floor after vomiting. I felt like I had a fever and started to get the chills. This was not normal. But I still had two other kids to take care of so I shuttled everyone to all of their activities despite how I felt.
And then the cramping. The cramping was unbearable. Pain engulfed my entire back. That’s when I knew something was really wrong.
By the time I got home, I had started bleeding. I called my husband to find out what I should do. He suggested going to the ER, especially given that I was feverish. He headed home and I headed to the ER.
At the ER the Doctor did an ultrasound and found a tiny little sack – that hadn’t attached itself, yet. Basically, the sack would either attach over the weekend or I would continue to bleed and my answer would be just that.
As I sat waiting to get my blood drawn my best friend called. She was SO excited that I was pregnant.
And then I told her I was sitting in the ER having a miscarriage.
She started balling. I felt like I should also be balling, but I felt nothing. I was just numb.
I tried reliving the last few days to try and figure out what I had done to make this happen. What if I had just changed one or two actions, would that mean I would still be pregnant and giving birth on Valentine’s Day?
Two years later I now have my rainbow baby. And while I don’t think about the miscarriage every day, every time Valentine’s Day comes up in conversation or around the holiday I can’t help but think about the baby that never was.
The truth is most women experience a miscarriage. Some women are afraid to talk about it. Some women simply can’t bring themselves to talk about it. If you fall into either of those categories please know that you aren’t alone. No one is ever truly alone.
