June 15th would’ve been my due date with baby #3. I had a ‘missed miscarriage’ in December.
I knew I was pregnant on day one. My morning sickness, in typical fashion, began on the first day of the 6th week. I had my first prenatal appointment and ultrasound at 7 weeks and saw the babies heartbeat.
For Thanksgiving weekend, we went to visit my hubby’s BFF and his family in Santa Fe, NM. The weekend was pleasant, and I was finally starting to feel better. My morning sickness was not as bad as it was with my first two pregnancies. I thought I was getting away with something. I felt lucky, and thankful.
I had some very minor spotting, but not anything major. I didn’t fall. I wasn’t cramping and I didn’t notice anything different. Except that I was feeling better than I had with my other 2 pregnancies.
My doctors appointment was on my son’s 2nd birthday, Monday November 28th. It was an evening appointment, so the OB office was closed. The midwife was nice, I had seen her once before. She did another ultrasound since I was having some spotting. She didn’t find a heartbeat, and the baby stopped growing around 8 weeks 6 days.
I was so stunned. I was alone. Jeff called me on the cell to be sure everything was ok, as the appt. was taking a long time. I could barely speak the words to him.
We had a birthday dinner for Spencer and a cake.
The next day, as the midwife instructed, I called to schedule a D&C. If my body had expelled the ‘contents of the pregnancy’ on its own, I would have had a natural miscarriage. But, since my body wasn’t handling things on its own, I was encouraged to have surgical intervention. I also could not bear the idea of having a dead baby inside of me. There was a major miscommunication with the office staff and the surgical scheduler. It took until Thursday for someone to call me back. That was the longest 3 days E.V.E.R. I spent the whole time crying and the most sad I have ever felt. I was scheduled for pre-op Thursday afternoon, and surgery first things Friday morning.
Since it was such short notice, we didn’t have any coverage for the kids. So, Jeff dropped me off for surgery and left with the kids. The hospital staff and surgeon were amazing. So sensitive and supportive. I was under general anesthesia, so I don’t have any memory of the procedure.
It was a difficult recovery. Both emotionally and physically. There was a point where I knew that if didn’t get off the couch RIGHT THEN, that I was going to slip into a major depression. Having to put away the maternity clothes that I had just taken out of the garage and washed. Having to cancel my baby center subscription. Getting my period back. Putting aside the idea that our little house was soon going to be welcoming a baby. But mostly coming to terms with not being pregnant any more. Once day I was happily expecting my 3rd baby, and the next day my baby was dead and I wasn’t pregnant. Slowly, we shared the news with our friends and family. I had to tell all of my Stroller Strides Mama’s. I even had to tell some people that I wasn’t expecting (friends from the park, or playgroups).
Sharing was an interesting experience. I am not a private or secretive person. But, sharing something so deeply personal was beyond difficult. For some people it seemed harder for them to hear, than it was for me to talk about. For a few people, I was a way to bond over shared experiences. And for most they were very supportive.
It has been 6 months, and I feel better, almost recovered. I don’t know if I can ever go through that again, but I am trying to move on.