We did it again. We opened out hearts and let hope come in. We have been once again crushed.
At this point I am a few days past the worst parts and I am bitter. I am hurt and I am angry.
I was five weeks along this time. We'd only just found out. I'd only just that day told my co-workers. Telling them early was a protection plan, they would not give me violent or dangerous patients, they would not let me do heavy lifting, we were all together going to protect this baby.
We hadn't had a chance to tell family, it was too early. We didn't buy any baby clothes and I never got a good start on a baby blanket. I didn't get a chance to know this baby and I never will.
Beyond the obvious differences of this being such an early loss existed many more ways this miscarriage was different.
We were yet still struggling to find a OB or a Midwife. We were wanting a midwife but part of me wanted to check out from an OB first, as long as all was well I thought we'd go meet a midwife. In fact I had appointments scheduled for March 4th- the earliest anyone would see me.
October 16th: Both my husband and I got off from work at decent times. We came home to a nice easy meal and were poised to get to bed early. Shortly before turning off the lights I made the fated trip to the bathroom, where I was greeted by a small spot of blood. I, being the level headed girl I am, absolutely broke down. I cried, my husband fetched me my small baby blanket I'd made during my first pregnancy and held me. I kept saying, "I don't want to lose this baby too."
The next day I was due to work in a different job. I woke up to not much blood. I'd expected to wake up in a puddle frankly. I know spotting happens and I didn't have cramps so I tried to be positive. I clung to the monkey we bought Josh during Christmas and made my 50 minute drive to work. When I arrived I stopped to check- more blood now, darker, more sinister. My boss is a wonderful person, who not only allowed me to go home, but insisted I go home- relax, put my feet up and have bedrest. As a nurse she knew that sometimes bedrest alone can help.
But when I got home I'd begun to get small cramps and the blood continued to increase ever so slowly. When I say increase I mean it'd gone from a small pink spot on toilet paper to a angry red mark when I blotted.
My Joel came home. He called in a favor and got the day off. He came home and we cried. He made a fort. We watched Harry Potter. He reminded me of how much Josh brought us together, and all the good that came from a 9 week life. He said this wasn't the end and he told me we would be, forever, OK.
The OB office I had called allowed me to bump my appointment up to the next day. So with any hope draining with each hour, my love and I passes the day easily and tearfully. Being delicate and gentle and crossing our fingers for a chance at keeping out baby.
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