Horrible Day

I really don’t want to write, but that’s usually when the most words come pouring out of me. My doctor’s appointment was this morning. I had no clue what to expect and I was beyond nervous. I knew some of the things I’d be asked and I tried to steel myself, expecting the coldness of the doctor who delivered Liam. At least I think he did, I never saw him before he came to my room the day I left. So, we get there and I start filling out the paperwork, since I’ve never been there for an OB/GYN visit. At the bottom of the first page I have to stop and collect myself. The dreaded "previous pregnancies" question. Tears started forming as I marked off "Number of pregnancies" 3 "Number of births" 2 "Number of living children" My heart broke as I wrote 1. I sat back down and held it together as best I could. Luckily there were no obviously pregnant women and only 2 babies. They called me back to weigh me and of course asked about the baby. I answered the questions, knowing I’d break down if I had to actually admit what had happened. The first nurse only asked how much he weighed, but I’ll never forget her response when I told her. "Well, at least he was big enough to be healthy without being too big." He was, he should have been healthy, but he wasn’t. Then we were sent back to the waiting room for a few minutes before another nurse called me back to the actual exam room. She started asking the usual baby questions and as I answered that I’d had a boy, I broke down. She turned and asked what was wrong. Darryl started to tell her that people kept asking me these questions, but I also answered and told her that I’d expected it, but that we’d lost our son. She was absolutely amazing and even got the counselor to come talk to us. Well, me. Darryl shut himself down the entire time we were there and didn’t really talk much. I’ll be making an appointment with her shortly, but I have to find out if my schedule will be back to normal next week. She apologized every time she had to ask something, but by then I’d composed myself. Thankfully she also informed the doctor who did my exam so that I wouldn’t have to. The doctor was also amazing and I actually felt at ease with her. I asked her my questions while she did the exam and she explained everything to me as she was going. I was so grateful because at this point Darryl had left. He didn’t really storm off, but kind of did. I was about to freak out, thinking I was going to get blood drawn alone, but he did come back halfway through the exam. After that was over they took me to get the blood drawn. By that point I was just pissed off at Darryl, thinking he was grouchy because he was hungry (Since every time I asked what was wrong he answered that he was hungry.) and I couldn’t relax. They couldn’t get anything out of the first arm, but with the second the lady asked about the baby. She asked me his name and I told her (I never did tell her that he hadn’t made it.) and when I said his name visions of him just started playing in my mind. I relaxed and they were able to draw the blood this time. I didn’t even feel the needle, thanks to my little angel! <3 The doctor brought me my birth control pill while all this was going on and afterwards we were free to leave. I had to make another appointment for November and this time Darryl did storm off. I was ready to just take him home and leave him there. When I got outside he was waiting by the car. neither of us spoke. Halfway home, he finally just lost it, screaming horrible things and getting out of the car at a red light. I can’t even write what he said to me, but he pretty much justified my guilt. Whatever was left of my heart shattered, I was so livid and beyond hurt. I pulled into a church parking lot because I was crying so hard I couldn’t see. I parked and just cried for what seemed like forever. When I finally felt ready to drive, I started backing up and almost hit him. I thought he’d walked the other direction. He got in and apologized for the hurtful words and we talked even more. As much as he keeps getting on to me for clamming up and pulling away, he was doing the same thing. I admitted how guilty I still feel and I also admitted that I was terrified that I may never have another child because, "I’ve failed two of them, why should I get another chance?" We just kind of comforted each other for a while before we finally went home. Then we went back and forth on the pills. I didn’t want them. I still don’t want them. He says, ‘we’ll just see what happens, like we always have," but then tells me to go ahead and take the pills for now. He tells me he’s not ready for another baby, but then tries to insist that he would be ok with it. I know it’s just to make me happy and I can’t do that. I want us to want the same thing, so I take the pill. I spend the rest of the day (Most of it anyway.) in the bathroom sobbing. I don’t want to take the pills. I don’t want to work against the very thing I desire, but I know that not taking them is selfish, so until he actually tells me he’s ready and means it, I’ll take them. At least we’re communicating now, so when that time comes we won’t have to struggle too much. It’s been a horrible day, but I made it through. There are some days I think I won’t, but I know I have to. I just remind myself that one day I’ll see my angels and each day I get through is one day closer. <3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Rhonda Ford

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