I hate the word.....(My miscarriage story)

         Miscarriage: by definition is the expulsion of a fetus before it is viable, especially between the third and seventh months of pregnancy.   You are probably uneasy hearing or reading the word and that's OK, me too. I remember being so naive whenever I heard about someone miscarrying. I wouldn't know what to say to them and think "but you didn't know the baby". Can I just say as a Mom of 6 and a Mom that has had 2 miscarriages "YOU KNOW THAT BABY".  From the moment you see those 2 lines you are connected to that child just like you are to all your kids. I myself, didn't realize how fast the "Mother instinct" kicks in until We lost our first baby.

         I hate what miscarriage robs from you. All the hopes, dreams, wishes, and it robs the security of pregnancy. From the moment you lose a baby you are forever haunted by the fear of it happening again to yourself and anyone else who is expecting. Miscarriage steals the joy, you no longer are happy for others that are expecting the same time you were. You look at other mothers to be and resent them, yet you pray for them, that they don't ever know your pain. It makes you cry, lay in bed and think of all the what ifs, what should bes, and whys. Mostly I hate that with a miscarriage comes this unimaginable silence. Its a silence that can't be described, the silence of not mentioning a baby you came to know and love for the sake of not making people uneasy. I refuse to sit in silence and feel like I'm alone in this. My story could and can help someone out there cope and may even save a life. I will share it to whoever wants to hear and even those who don't.  Here is my story of how and when I became an Angel Mommy:

           January 1st we found out that we were expecting what would have been (and is) baby #4 for us. And I would be lying if I said we were happy about it (how I wish I could say we were). We decided to keep the pregnancy a secret from everyone except a select few(I wish we didn't). Why?, because certain family members would be upset and say some things that we just didn't want to hear at the time. Oh how I wish I wouldn't have let others steal the joy of being pregnant and looking back now, If I had known that my joy would be stolen in such an awful way I would have screamed the news of a new family member from the roof tops! I have often beat myself up over hiding the pregnancy, thinking that maybe that was the reason we lost the baby. Anyway in the middle/end of January we had our first scare with the baby and rushed to the ER one morning for spotting. After what seemed like days of waiting i was wheeled away without Danny for an ultrasound. The tech was so nice and she informed that she couldn't give any information out and i was not to look at the screen at all. When she was finished she took me back to the room, sobbing my eyes waiting for the worse. As she hooked me up to the IV, she bent down and whispered that the heartbeat as 165.  The load that came off my shoulders was tremendous and i could not thank her enough for telling me.The ER doctor came in shortly after and confirmed that our little peanut looked amazing and resembled  Lima bean. Our due date was September 3rd. We went on and carried out our days as normal completely unaware of what would shortly take place.
        The morning of February 8th started like any other day, except I had spotting once again. So we dropped the kids off to my sister in laws and were off to the ER. We were so sure that the outcome would be the same(I wish I could go back and warn myself, It's not).  Again what felt like years passed and finally I was again taken away for an ultrasound. This time though it was a young guy who was just learning(I should have asked for another person) and he was sweet but I felt like someone with experience should be seeing me. Deep down I wanted the same woman you know cause in my mind that meant the same results (my way of calming myself down). He stared and searched and stared and searched, til he stood up and said that he needed to get a supervisor to come and over look his work. Optimism has never been my strong point but that day I was, I had to be (it normally back fires on me). The supervisor came in did the "cover" ultrasound, it was silent, he was silent (God, why did it have to be a man, as if that made a difference), everything and everyone was silent and still. While they were wheeling me out of the ultrasound room the head ultrasound tech placed his hand on my shoulder, looked into my red watery eyes and said "You take care of yourself". The look he gave at that time just gave it away, I knew at that point the results were different. Danny tried to calm me and he did some, saying I was wrong and we didn't know yet since the Doctor still had to see the paper work. Soon after the doctor came in, she was the same one from before. How hard it had to be to give someone wonderful news one week and then a few later you shatter their entire being. "I'm so sorry, there was no heartbeat." is all I heard her say because I completely collapsed back on the bed, just wanting my heart to stop along with my child's.
         We picked up the kids and pretended as well as we could that everything was OK, they didn't even know I was expecting. At home I cried, I cried more than I have ever cried in my life(I hate to cry). I laid in bed, just waiting to wake up from the nightmare that was before me(because it had to be a nightmare, right?). Poor Danny didn't know what to do, what to say, and everything he did just made me furious. He tried to talk to me, I told him to leave me alone, he would leave me alone and I would yell at him for not being there with me. He once told the neighbor that he just didn't know what to do, he knew I was hurting and he couldn't fix it. He was suppose to be my rock, but he just  couldn't do it in this situation. He was grieving too, for the baby and for his wife. The life had left me just like it had left the child in me.Depression is a hard feeling to describe and til that time I had never experienced it. I wanted to be happy, to play with the kids, to eat, bathe, breathe, oh it was so hard to breathe. I couldn't do anything but sit and mourn. Mourn for the precious life that would not be.
      February 10th came and Danny took the 3 kids to church, then lunch with his parents. They got home late in the evening and I had managed to get up shower, clean a little and see the kids some. I put a smile on my face for them but it felt so wrong to do it. Shortly after I had sat down on the couch I was right back in bed with pains (it was starting). The ER doctor mentioned contractions, heavy bleeding, but not no more than a period. As I sat in bed knowing that it was official, since up to this point I still was holding out for Hope, but I could feel the contractions as my body got rid of my baby.  I remember in my mind just screaming "STOP, STOP, I WANT THIS BABY, WHY HAVE YOU FAILED?" over and over to myself (but my body didn't listen to me). At some point Danny came to check on me, he had just put the kids in the tub. I knew that it was going to get worse and that we needed to get the kids out of the house. I told him "It was time for them to leave" and he literally rushed down stairs grab them out of the tub, ran them all to the neighbors and left them there. Thank God for our wonderful neighbors. They knew from the moment we did about the pregnancy and loss. Danny was quickly back by my side and asking what he could do. This is where my story could save a life. You see I was a "not text book" miscarriage.
            We quickly discovered that we needed to go to the hospital. It was way to much blood loss, completely different than what we were told to expect. As I stood up to head down the stairs and get in our van, all I remember is looking at Danny and telling him "I think its time to call the ambulance". With that I woke up on the floor, soaking wet from blood, and Danny screaming and shaking me to come too. He was already on the phone to 911 giving them our address. It felt like no sooner he said the address that they were knocking on the door(it was locked for the night). I will never forget the look on the mans face as he entered the bedroom and saw me. He screamed out orders for towels, some kind of chair, fluid bags, and that he had to get an IV started right now!" The two with him were running up and down steady bringing towels because I was going through them so fast and Danny was frantically telling them the whole situation. The way to the hospital I was in and out of it, trying to remember my birthday,name,the kids names as they asked over in over keeping me awake as much as possible. At the hospital we were introduced to an ER Doctor that no lie looked like a janitor. He was so sloppy and unprofessional looking that I thought it was a joke. But he saved my life that night, to him I owe a thousand Thank Yous.  He had to preform an emergency D&C right there in the emergency room since the OB on call refused to come in that night. I remember that part very well, I could not be given any thing for the pain because they were afraid I would go completely and they wouldn't be able to get me back. The nurse was telling me to scream all I needed and that she knew it was painful, but I didn't, I couldn't. The Doctor finished and walked out to call the OB again, Danny heard he arguing over the phone about a blood transfusion. Finally after hours of non stop calling the ER Doctor got the OB on call to approve a blood transfusion although he still refused to come in and see me.  After the transfusion was started, Danny went and talked to the ER doctor and asked "What went wrong" and that we were told "we could handle all of this at home". In the words of the Doctor he looked at Danny and said " yes technically you should have been fine. But this is not a text book 9 week loss miscarriage, this is something I have never seen and your instructor would say this could go wrong but don't worry it never does."
         Earlier in the morning hours I was moved up stairs to the maternity floor (how awful, too hear the newborn cries). I was on my second bag of blood and still bleeding out of control. A nurse finally went against policy and called my OB directly on her personally phone. With in minutes she was at the hospital, and I was down in surgery for another emergency D&C. When I woke up I felt so empty and as if I had been ran over by 50 Mack trucks. They sent me home later that evening where I began to heal physically,mentally, and emotionally. I was a long road but I made it. Don't get me wrong I still have my days and February 8th-10th every year since haunts me and sends me back to the days that are some of the darkest I have ever known. There is hope it does get better slowly, very slowly, but its does. It helps to talk about our baby, I don't like to pretend that it didn't happen, that the baby never existed or that I almost died. I want to share this story because so many are going through this hurt and pain, You are not alone. And if you think you need to go to the hospital listen to yourself don't wait and see it out just because they said it should be fine at home.

              If you read this and are going through this loss and need to talk please feel free and get in touch with me. I am hear and ready to listen and help.

A friend was able to get me a picture of our "Sweet Baby"