I lost a baby. Well, I should say I got confirmation that I lost a baby followed up by a suction D&C. It was such an odd experience at the time. I was filled with a sense of loss as well as relief. That was quickly followed up by guilt and anger. Now I am at peace with it. If I hadn't suffered that loss, we wouldn't have our beautiful C.
Let me tell you about that time. All of my friends that I had hung around with when E was born had either had their second babies or were expecting very soon. The Man and I consumed some booze threw caution to the wind and decided that what will be, will be. Of course, I wasn't sold on the age difference as I was sure that I really did want my babies 3 years apart. So that pretty much ended the fun right then. Oh and the fact that The Man was deploying to Afghanistan unexpectedly.
Fast forward a month. Some spotting and for some unknown reason, I felt the need to pee on a stick. Imagine my surprise when the damn thing popped positive. On Valentine's Day I went to the ER because the spotting hadn't stopped. Had an ultrasound and saw the bean's heartbeat. I was told that it was implantation bleeding and that I was 7 weeks along. EDD was Sept 27/07. I called The Man (he was in Gagetown) and asked him what he wanted for Valentine's Day and then told him that I hoped it was a baby since that was all I had to offer!
The spotting stopped a couple of days after that. I was very hesitant for some reason to tell anyone beyond my nearest and dearest about the pregnancy. It was just this feeling I had. Coupled with the guilt of wishing that I wasn't pregnant right then and cursing our ability to get pregnant that easily. I went to see my own doctor at around 9 weeks and the spotting had started again. She wanted me to have another ultrasound and to get it done at the same hospital that I had the first one done at. So off I go and make an appt for another ultrasound which wasn't for another week or so.
On March 5, I went for my ultrasound. It was the same tech that did my first one. She was less than friendly and treated me quite nastily. I knew something was wrong and that was compounded by not being shown the screen. I am no moron and I was pretty sure that the baby was gone. So I waited for the inevitable phone call from my doctor. It never came. I took a shift at work on March 7. I was able to corner my doctor that morning and she went to find out what was going on. She returned and spoke with the OB on call before she came to me to tell me what I already knew. I was supposed to be 12 weeks by then.
I had another ultrasound at our facility to confirm fetal demise was essentially 2 days after the intial one. I saw the OB at 1630 and by 1640, I was on my way back to my floor for preparation to go to the OR. My mum was at work, my dad had my son and my husband was in Afghanistan. By 1900, it was all over but the crying. And I was all alone. The Man's best friend knew before he did that our baby was gone. I think it was 2 days before I was finally able to tell him myself.
Time heals all wounds they say and it has. Most of the time anyway. Sometimes it strikes me at the oddest moment and I wonder about our angel baby. I wonder whether it was a boy or a girl and if the baby would have looked like The Man or not. I wonder what we would have chosen for names and what colour hair or eyes would be.
I really can't believe that 4 years have passed already. It's amazing to me where life can lead you.
This song always makes me weepy but it also holds a special place in my heart too.
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