But It’s The End Of MY World…
Five years ago today I experienced my first loss. The naive joy of pregnancy was ripped away from me, never to return. I was 7 weeks and 6 days pregnant. I’d only known for a couple of weeks, but I already had so many hopes and dreams. I’d bought Ville a "I’m a big brother" t-shirt. That afternoon, my hopes and dreams were ripped away by the most asshole doctor I have ever dealt with, only to leave a gaping hole. That hole has only gotten bigger and more painful with the loss of my son. I can still remember everything so vividly. I’d gone to the ER the Sunday before because I had started bleeding. I’d been terrified that I was miscarrying. They made me wait forever before I got called back. They took blood, lost it, took more because I didn’t know my blood type, and sent me for an emergency ultrasound. Once the tech did what she had to do, she turned the screen directly towards me, told me the baby looked perfectly healthy, and showed me the heartbeat. I was 6 weeks and 5 days along. I was instructed to take 4 days off from work and during that time I was supposed to stay on bed rest. My doctor’s appointment was Friday morning, before I returned to work. They did all the usual stuff and by that time the bleeding had slowed down to just a small amount of spotting. They took blood and at first I’d been so proud of myself for not freaking out. Then I started seeing spots. I informed the nurse and she told me that she was almost done. The room started spinng and my face started going numb. Once again, I told the nurse and she said she was almost done. The room started going dark, and the last thing I remember as I fell backwards was the needle flying out of my arms and blood going everywhere. When I came to I thought I was paralyzed because I couldn’t move my hands and they were in a weird position. The nurse kind of laughed it off, telling me not to worry. After I was able to sit up and everything stopped spinning, I got up to use the bathroom. The bleeding had returned, quite a bit heavier. I told the doctor when I finally saw her. I begged her to do an ultrasound, listen for the heartbeat, anything… They refused. I went home and just prayed that everything would be ok. That Monday I went into work. I’d only been there about 20 minutes when the cramping began. I just knew. I went back to the ER and they took my blood to compare the numbers. The doctor came in, handed me a paper with the two numbers on it, and walked out. He never said a word. I burst into tears, the numbers confirming what I’d already known. Darryl and my mom came to my side and I had to explain to them what was going on. I never saw that doctor again, but they were kind enough to send me a very pregnant nurse to discharge me. She felt awful. I was crushed. My doctor wanted me to schedule an ultrasound to verify that I didn’t need a D&C. They informed me that Medicaid would not cover it though, and that I would be required to pay $250 up front. I told them that was bullshit, and that I couldn’t afford it. The nurse persisted and I told her that she could schedule it if she wanted, but that there was no way I could afford it if my medicaid wouldn’t cover it. I never did go back to that office. We went to my mother-in-law’s, where I was informed that, "It’s not the end of the world," and that, "You can always try again." I was hurt and beyond pissed off. I just left. It was the end of my world. All of the hopes and dreams I had for my baby were crushed. I didn’t want to try again, I wanted to still be pregnant. I wanted my baby back. Thank God she never said that about Liam. I’ a much different person now and I probably would have either bitch slapped her, threw her out of the hospital, or quite possibly both. I think with him she had hopes and dreams too. He was more real to her than our other baby. Darryl admitted that to me not long after we lost Liam. he said he hadn’t understood how I had felt because it wasn’t as real to him. He never saw her and nothing had really changed for him. When I lost my daughter, my mom was the only one who was really there for me. She had been through two miscarriages and understood how much it hurt. I didn’t get much sympathy, most people didn’t know. It was a lot easier to not have to explain to people. On the other hand, I didn’t get time off from work. I cried a lot while I was working. I ran to the bathroom on several occasions, in tears because someone had a baby or was pregnant. I’ve pretty much numbed myself to all that now. It hurts, but I can fake it. Although days like today, when everywhere I go people have babies, it’s damn near impossible. I see baby things and I think, "Oh, I would have bought that for Liam." I see a fammily with three kids, and I think, "That could have been us." Ville is 6 1/2, Miracle would be 4 1/2 now, and Liam would be almost a month old. I would be happy, but I’m not. I’m miserable and desperately longing for what I can’t have. I cling to a hope of someday, but that seems so far away. Some day I’ll have a baby, but when is not my decision and that’s so hard for me to accept. I’m still angry over it. Some day, I’ll hold my babies eternally, but only Gd knows when he’ll call me home to them. For now, I have Ville, who becomes more and more independent everyday. It breaks m heart, but makes me so proud of him. It’s hard, but somehow I have to manage. He still needs me here, and he’s all I’ve got.
Created by MyFitnessPal – Free Calorie Counter
visited 13 states (26%)
Create your own visited map of The United States or another interesting project