I have given birth to two beautiful healthy boys. I was 8 days shy of being 19 when I had my first son. His father was 20. We were scared out of our minds. He was a surprise for sure, a great one. Six and a half years later we had our second, relatively healthy boy. He had a cleft lip and sub-mucous cleft palate. We found out while I was pregnant, so we were totally prepared when he arrived.
Then just 8 months later I found myself pregnant again. Our youngest was 2 months away from having his second surgery and money was beyond tight. We were absolutely terrified. We actually, very briefly, considered ending it, but if I didn’t when I was 18 and had nothing of my own in life, I certainly was not going to now, at 26, married with 2 kids. When we told our families, they were less than thrilled. My own sister actually asked me when I was going to learn from my mistakes. Considering the only conception that occurred without birth control was the first one eight years prior, I was completely appalled by this. I was heart broken that my own sister could respond in such a way. She, herself, was pregnant with baby number two, so how could she say that?! After a couple weeks of not talking, she and I work things out and I remember telling her “if this baby isn’t meant to be here then God will make that choice.“
A month later, my son has his surgery and I stay home from work for two weeks. During the end of those two weeks, I start to experience some spotting. I had never had that with my first two but had heard that it could happen. I was just shy of 15 weeks. I went back to work and told my boss what was going on, but that I felt fine. She sent me home so I could get checked out. I stopped by the house and my husband asked if he should come with me. I told him not to because he had just put the little one down for a nap. I was certain I was ok.
I went in and they put the doppler on my stomach. Nothing. The M.A. says she’s kind of new, she’ll grab another girl. That M.A. tells me they’re having issues with that doppler and goes to get a new one. The tears are filling my eyes. The new doppler didn’t work so they sent me to ultrasound. What I saw was not a 15 week gestation baby… and there was no flickering where the heart is, but the tech is silent. She directs me to go back to the exam room, where I then wait for 15 min. The longest 15 minutes ever, full of praying that I didn’t know anything and that my experience was wrong. Then the doctor comes in and says “I’m so sorry.” She told me the baby measured about 9weeks and that by that point if my body hadn’t naturally passed the baby it probably wouldn’t I had the option of the D&C or the pill. I couldn’t have control of that situation. I couldn’t flush my baby. So 2 days later I had my D&C. October 12, 2011 is the day I was officially no longer pregnant.
That’s a year ago today. I can recall all of it like yesterday. It all still hurts like it was yesterday. The world around me acts like I should be ok. I warn the girls at work, at a childcare facility, that I might be a little down. They tell me, “you’ll be fine.” What the hell do they know? It hurts. It hurts a lot everyday and I don’t know how to make it stop.
It’s been a year and I can put on a solid front. You look at me and you’d never know. But I look at me and I’m damaged. My body betrayed me for 6 weeks. And now in a weird twist, that unsupportive sister is the most supportive person in my life next to my husband. And instead of me just accepting it and taking it with grace, inside I question why she supports me now and not then. Is she really concerned for me or guilty for how she handled things earlier or both? And why does it matter? It doesn’t.
I just want all the pain to leave me. Why can’t I have my baby but I can have all the pain? Why is that fair?