I Should Have Known

*This entry contains information regarding blood and other pregnancy related details. Read at your own discretion.*


When we first joined the baby race as newlyweds, I had no idea how much planning was involved. People get pregnant all the time by accident, how hard could it be when it's on purpose?!

We thought we had things figured out in our first month of trying. We knew everything hinged upon knowing when you ovulate. The week my period was due, we anxiously waited for that second line to appear. It never did, but my period did ten days late.

We were crushed. What went wrong? Was our math incorrect? Why was I that late?? I was regular at 28-30 days for the last 15+ years. There are only twelve times in a year I can get pregnant, not good odds. How could I go through this every month?!

Fortunately our disappointment only lasted that one month. Nine months later our beautiful little girl was born. We know we were so fortunate to have her so soon when other couples we know had been trying for years. I guess part of me thought we would never have problems conceiving.

I always wanted my children to be spaced 18-24 months apart. Then I had Rylin and did the math. 4 kids would mean they would share a birthday month with a sibling at some point. So last summer I did what I do best and planned when each of my future children would be born. I kid you not, I still have the list. Wanting to avoid summer babies at at all costs, I planned on baby #2 this fall in October preferably. Have you seen baby Halloween clothes?! SO adorable. It's my favorite month, and the timing fit perfectly into my new 20-22 month spacing.

A baby in October means conception in January-ish. Todd didn't want wait until January, and was suggesting November. That meant an August baby. I vetoed that and offered December instead. September was no October, but WAY better than August. So I agreed to December.

When my period was ten days late around Christmas, I started getting worried. We had been careful! This was not part of my plan!! I had a fertility app on my phone and had things down to the day. With relief and twinge of guilt for being relieved, my period started the next day. No August baby for me!! Then I started wondering how this new date would affect things. After some quick calculations, I happily discovered that if I got pregnant in either of my next cycles I would have my October baby! I planned out my month accordingly.

When testing time arrived, we had several negative results. Not quite sure if the timing was right for us, I prayed and told Heavenly Father that it was His will for us to be pregnant again at this time, then it was OK with me. The NEXT morning, January 24th, the test came back positive. We were too excited to keep it a secret. We told everyone at work and on Facebook. Todd and I talked about waiting to spread the news until we knew if his sister was pregnant again or not. She was and due in July, so we felt we were in the clear. We were pregnant again after ten days late the month before again. We had no reason to worry.

Though I couldn't shake this thought in my head that we should wait to tell everybody until after the first ultrasound. I shook it off as pregnancy paranoia. Still I found myself thinking about miscarriages and saying the word a lot. It surprised me every time it happened. I had never been like this before. I would say, "We thought about waiting to tell people, but everyone would know if I had a miscarriage anyway, so what's the point in waiting?" The word had never even entered my pregnant vernacular before. It was so far from my mind with Rylin. Why was it so present now??

Still, I went about my business at home and work and scheduled my first midwife appointment. I joined the October 2011 Babies message board. I created a pregnancy ticker. All the while having pregnancy cravings, hunger, bladder, dreams, and emotions.

Things got really, really stressful at work. Those problems are worthy of their own entry, but they were enough to start affecting my well-being. I started to worry about my baby and pregnancy being harmed. The stress didn't let up. Todd and I fought. Badly. I broke a chair in anger. I started to wonder if we were ready to have another child. Part of me wished and vocalized that we weren't pregnant again yet. A teeny, tiny part of me, but it was still there.

For whatever reason, Todd and I both hadn't connected to this new little life yet. It didn't seem real yet. I would forget I was pregnant at times. Then I would just about lose my lunch and remember.

Friday, February 11th was a bad day. All day long at work I was busy, busy, busy trying to get caught up on a month of tasks. At one point I felt like I was "leaking" but there as long as there wasn't blood I wasn't worried. It was stressful at home after work trying to get everything ready to head to Utah that evening. I was just about ready to start packing and stopped for the first time in hours to go to the bathroom.

Then there was blood. Not just a little. And cramping. My heart sank. I kept staring down at the blood, not believing what I saw, willing it not to not be there. I started processing what was going on. Damage control. How bad was the bleeding? Enough to warrant a call to the midwife and not drive to Utah. I talked to Todd through the bathroom door and relayed the information he needed to give the answering service.

An hour later she was done delivering some other lucky lady's baby and got back to us. I remember being angry at that mother for making ME wait to hear what I already knew. The midwife told me to gauge the bleeding and pain. If it was bad, then head to the ER. If not, see the doctor in the morning. It wasn't bad. Scary, but not bad. Meanwhile my mind was screaming, "Any blood is bad!!!!"

We made the necessary phone calls, and decided to relax as much as we could for the night. I stood up to move to the other room and felt it. Something with weight to it left my body. I went back into the bathroom and braced myself for the worst. I had read accounts of mothers passing their unborn child and expected the same. Nothing looked unusual to me except for a tiny, translucent sac. I knew instantly what it was and prepared to see a blueberry-sized baby in, near, or around it. But to my relief, I did not. But I knew. My baby was gone. There in front of me was its life support system. Even if it survived the bleeding, without that being inside of me, it could not.

I continued bleeding and cramping through the night. Todd gave me a blessing, but his words were not surprising to me. "I can't promise things will turn out exactly as you want them to, but Heavenly Father loves you and is very aware of what you are going through."

The next morning, the doctor confirmed that I was having a miscarriage. He was not able to find an embryo nor a gestational sac. I told him what I had seen the night before and agreed with my conclusion. My worry about finding the embryo was put to rest because he said it was either microscopic or has been absorbed already. He said we probably had a miscarriage very early on, but for whatever reason it was just now manifesting. We asked some more questions and headed home.

Numb.

That's all I felt and still do three days later. How am I supposed to feel? Angry? At whom? God? Myself? Relieved? Why? Why even get pregnant if it just terminates? What am I supposed to learn from that? Sad? Angry at myself for being sad about losing not just a baby but my October baby? Worried? We don't have much wiggle room in my baby time-line. Todd and I are older than most starting their families. Emotion overload. Shorted out. Numb.

A cousin of mine had a miscarriage last year and she mentioned she was so thankful for the Atonement after things settled down. I kept wondering what does the Atonement have to do with a miscarriage? Usually I tie sin and forgiveness to the Atonement, not something so sad as a miscarriage. On the way to the doctor's office I thought about my sweet cousin and wondered about the correlation of the Atonement again. Very clearly the answer came to me, "You're about to find out."

Over the weekend I sat around doing nothing. It was all I could manage. I couldn't and wouldn't talk to anybody because I didn't want to say everything over and over again. I also didn't want to cry every time someone told me they were sorry. I couldn't go on that roller coaster of emotion. I needed to process what was happening.

A miscarriage?! ME?! Sure they are common enough and 20-40% of all pregnancies end up so. But my mom never had one. My grandmother never had one. I had two successful pregnancies with hardly any complications and obviously no problems getting pregnant. I should be able to dodge this bullet with my eyes closed.

So I did a lot of thinking. And none of this makes things easier, but it helps explain some of the mixed feelings I have been experiencing.

I should have known when my middle of the night trips to the bathroom stopped.

I should have known when my unfathomable cravings for Cheetos and Nutty-bars disappeared.

I should have known when my face cleared up and my boobs no longer hurt and I wasn't so exhausted all the time.

I should have known when neither Todd nor I could completely believe we were pregnant.

I should have known because part of me always did.

I call bull

You know, I am really sick of hearing about how other women have "the best husband in the world" and "I love my life just the way it is." I call bull. I just don't believe that these people never fight with their spouse or that everything is just peachy. I DO believe that they put on a face and pretend things are just fine because heaven forbid somebody might find out they have problems too. Come on. Get real. And don't act so surprised or haughty when someone else is honest enough to admit that their life isn't perfect.


- Posted from my iPhone