Jessica- Last December, a few weeks before we found out about you, I went to the cafeteria to get lunch. The cafeteria lady who was making my salad pointed to my belly, “It’s a boy?” After a moment, I answered, “No, I’m not pregnant.” She got a little flustered and quickly asked if I wanted cucumber in my salad. That night, I took at least three pregnancy tests but they were all negative.
About a week before Christmas, your daddy said he thought I was pregnant. When I’m pregnant, my skin feels hot, and that’s what made him think I was. I hadn’t gotten my period in two months, but my home pregnancy tests were all negative. I went to see my OB, who ordered lab work. On Christmas day, Daddy said again he was sure I was pregnant, but I still wasn’t convinced and it made me emotional because I wanted so badly to be. I could barely keep from crying. It was already a somber Christmas as it was the first one without your daddy’s dad.
The day after Christmas I was home with your sister. I noticed that I had a missed call. The voicemail was from my OB’s office. The nurse said I was pregnant but it was a very low positive so I needed to come back for more bloodwork. I was shocked, excited and overwhelmed. My heart was pounding into my ears as I slid from the couch to the floor. After gathering myself (and listening to the voicemail more times than I’d like to admit) I called your daddy. He was absolutely thrilled.
The second round of bloodwork showed a significant increase in my HCG levels. The nurse estimated that I was about 4 weeks along.
A few weeks later we went for the ultrasound – but the nurse practitioner couldn’t see anything. My heart sank and I told daddy, “This is exactly what I was afraid of.” She referred us to the fetal ultrasound specialist, and that was the first time we saw you. The technician estimated 6-7 weeks. It was the best feeling in the world. We were relieved and hopeful.
A week later, we went back to my OB to review the results from the fetal ultrasound specialist. Just your sister and me this time. She used a small handheld ultrasound machine to take a quick look and there you were… still. We went into another room with a larger ultrasound machine and again there you were, with no heartbeat. The doctor said these machines are not very good and asked if I could go back to the maternal fetal ultrasound specialist that day. She walked me out to the office area, where her tech would make the appointment. Meanwhile I was calling daddy to see if he could get out of work to come with me, holding back my tears, and trying to keep track of your sister who was running around the office, putting her fingers in the outlets and pulling at cords under the tech’s desk. Finally the tech made an appointment that daddy could make it to. I walked with your sister out of the building and the wind swept my first tears to my cheeks. I broke down and cried. Your sister rested her head on my shoulder as if she knew I needed consoling.
We went to the fetal ultrasound specialist and again there you were, just still. The tech said nothing for the first minute. Then she confirmed that there was no heartbeat. My heart broke. The tech told me it wasn’t my fault that she had gone through this, too, and to try to not blame myself. I tried to say thank you and that this was my third loss but my tears wouldn’t stop. The doctor came in and confirmed what we already knew. We discussed the next steps. He avoided using the words “baby” or “miscarriage.” He said, “Many find that medication is just as successful as the D&C.” I thought, “Successful?! Who would ever call a miscarriage ‘successful’? There couldn’t be a worse way to describe it.”
Your daddy and I decided to wait for me to miscarry naturally since I’d done so with the two previous babies. But after one week, I couldn’t handle waiting any longer and asked my OB to call in the medication. I called the pharmacist to ask questions about the pill: symptoms to expect, how long I would bleed, how soon I’ll start experiencing symptoms. Out of all the people I’d talked to about this, he took the most time to thoroughly answer my questions. At the end he said, “Miss, by the way, I’m so sorry you have to go through this.” I felt a lump in my throat, quickly said, “Thank you.” and hung up.
I took the pills after daddy came home from work. Nothing happened for four hours but at last I started cramping and bleeding. At 10:30 pm I passed you and I saw you. You were the size of a blueberry- just like the app on my phone said you’d be – but grey, delicate and lifeless. Daddy was downstairs playing video games (his way of coping) and I was hesitant to tell him because I thought it would be too hard for him. I sat at the toilet and told you I was sorry it ended like this, that we were so excited to have you in our family and that I loved you.
Then I was faced with what to do next. I didn’t want to take you out and I thought it would be too hard for your daddy, too. My OB said we could bring you to her office to be studied for chromosomal issues but that seemed too difficult. I was overwhelmed because I didn’t feel like there was any other option. I flushed the toilet and went downstairs and told daddy what happened. Yesterday, 21 days later, I cried to daddy about how much I regretted flushing. I wish I had kept you in some way, that I had held you in some way. I’m so mad at myself for this. I feel like it was an injustice to your life.
I want you to know what we love you so much and were so looking forward to having you. You would’ve been just one month shy of two years younger than your sister. We both were convinced you were a boy, just like the cafeteria lady said. We are still grieving your loss and desperately wish you were still with us. I hope you are somewhere with our other two babies, and with your grandparents.
We love you and miss you every day,
Mommy and Daddy
