Tuesday, July 23, 2013


One of the main reasons I wanted to start blogging again was a life-changing event. I needed to write to figure out my feelings and work though some of the confusing things going though my mind.

This is an incredibly long post, with maybe a little too much information, but I needed to get it all out.

There are only 5 people who know. Me, Adam, my friend Liz, and my parents (who we just told yesterday).

Adam and I were trying  not preventing getting pregnant for a couple months. The plan was to get pregnant in July again for the prefect due-date (school year wise). It took 3 months to get pregnant with Kate, so we just allowed the same amount of time this time around. After only 2 months this happened:

On July 2nd, I wrote this:

I thought this is what I wanted. I missed being pregnant. Having kids 2 years apart seemed great.
Then I thought, maybe it's too soon.
Then I went to the beach with my mom, sister and her two kids. And I thought- no way am I ready for another.
Then I took a test.
I don't know how I feel. It is so different than last time.
I was so happy last time.
I need to trust in God's timing, that everything will work out, and that we will have a new baby to bring us so much more happiness.

It was a wave of emotions. I wanted to be so happy, but knew our life- the easy nature of Kate, our routine, going to the store- was all going to change. Over the next week I began to get used to the idea of having another baby. I figured out the due date (March 7) and maternity leave (if I delivered late I could take the end of the year off, if I delivered on time or early I would have to go back to work), and started thinking of how to rearrange Kate's room and the guestroom to make space for a new baby.

I had my confirmation appointment at the doctor's the Monday after Crabfest, so we didn't tell our parents or any of the many friends who asked about when we would have the next baby. It was so hard to keep in.

So I had my appointment, everything seemed fine, and I scheduled the dating sonogram for Friday.

I had been feeling a tightness, like I pulled a muscle, in my pelvic area for a week. Adam told me I had the same thing when I was pregnant with Kate, but I didn't remember it so early on. I didn't think anything of it until Tuesday night. I went to the bathroom and noticed a little pink discharge. Nothing to worry about, spotting is normal, right? 
Then a few hours pass and the light pink is now red. OK... it's ok... spotting is normal... some people have 'periods' throughout their pregnancy... 
Then Kate is put to bed and I go to the bathroom and the red is now dark red, and really heavy. Heavier than a normal period.
I start bawling and hurry downstairs and just ask Adam to hold me. He does his best to try to calm me down, and tell me it's ok/ normal/ it'll be fine.

I call the doctor's office in the morning, explain everything, and I get an appointment first thing. This is why I am glad Liz knew. She found out early on when I was pregnant with Kate, so I confided in her again over lunch before telling anyone else. I called her to watch Kate while I went to the Dr. I can't imagine having to go in with Kate. Sitting in the paper gown, having an internal exam, hearing the word miscarriage in the office, getting blood drawn. It was also good to talk to someone about it, so I didn't have to keep it in. And I had already gotten most of my crying out Tuesday night, knowing it was probably over.

I called Adam after the exam. He later admitted he almost cried- it finally hit him. He agreed we needed to get away and put in for leave so we could go to the beach that weekend. It was a nice break. We had a long talk on the ride out about our feelings and plans for trying again, which probably won't be any time soon.

So it's over. In a way I am relieved, it just wasn't the right time I guess. But a huge part of me is still incredibly sad. I think I'm over it but I know I will still cry when I think about it, when I have to get my blood drawn yet again, and when I see my friends and coworkers announce their pregnancies this year.

I hope to be able to move on  feeling grateful for the child I have, and not in a depression over the one I have lost.  I pray to be able to have another baby when the time is right, when God blesses us again, without having another miscarriage. I know it could have been worse, so much worse, and I feel incredibly sorry for every mother who has had to experience this.

I hope that after I have written this all out, I won't be an emotional wreck whenever I do tell someone in person.

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