Voltaire said, "Tears are the silent language of grief." I have to agree. Because this weekend had started with so much joy and hope...and ended with tears. And all these tears say all the words that I want to...but can't.
I like my blog to be cheery and funny and silly. I like to think that life is short so we shouldn't take things too seriously. But sometimes bad things happen and things aren't always funny or cheery. And I am pissed and sad and a mess.
For the past month I have been telling Jason and a small few that I am pregnant. I didn't have the test in hand proving it...but I knew. I KNEW. I've had a baby before. I have been pregnant before. I knew. I was sick, had headaches, intense sense of smell, exhausted, constipated, bloated..the whole shebang. What I didn't have was a positive test. They kept coming up negative. This did not help my case with Jason. But I am telling you...I knew. And Saturday I had the proof. I had the test proving that I wasn't going crazy.
Jason knew that when I found out I was pregnant with Bowen, my ex husband was at his MOS school for the Marine Corps. Bowen was planned so he was waiting to hear the news. I wrote him this little poem and texted him, and then sent him a pic text of the test. Anyways..I thought it was cute and special and I wanted all of that and more for Jason. He, of all people, deserved it. Anyways I took the test before softball practice..looked at it an hour later and there it was. So I raced to Walgreens and grabbed a balloon that said 'OMG CONGRATS' and a couple of gift tags that were pink and blue and said baby, and two pacifiers. I told Jason to meet me at home and taped all this shit to the front door.
So he pulls in and sees the door and is speechless. Like totally..didn't know what to say or do...he unloaded the back of the truck. (Because we were moving for a week) Anyways..I had been excited for a month. And he got excited. And suddenly everything felt right with the world. I was so happy and was happy to have the sickness and bloating and get fat and feel kicks. So we called his family and told them and a couple of close friends.
That night Jason decided I needed to take another test just to take it. It pissed me off..not going to lie. We had an appointment on Thursday and would be doing a blood test and exam so it would be like 180% for sure proof. I felt like I showed him the proof..what else did he need? But he kept insisting. So Sunday morning I took a test and it came back negative. And I was pissed. I have to tell you..I was already worried bc all my tests were coming back negative. I didn't have that issue with Bowen. And now all these worries swarmed me. Jason and I broke in the new house with an argument that morning. I was pissed at him for pushing it. I was pissed that it came back negative. I was scared. And finally..it dawned on me that the reason why I didn't want to take the test was because I was scared of the results. And they came back with my fear.
Later that day I started spotting. Of course I freaked out. I called two friends who were nurses and they both assured me that it was common (which I knew) and that the fact that I didn't have cramps was a good sign. I was still worried so Jason was googling it over and over again. Of course the word miscarriage came up a few times. NOT a good thing to hear. But I decided to go to bed, call the dr in the morning, and pray for the best.
Monday morning I knew it wasn't ok. I was bleeding a lot and freaking out. Jason and I dropped Bowen off at school and then went to the dr office. I walked in, told them the situation, and immediately got in. My urine test came back negative..again. They did a blood test and got us in the ultrasound room. I immediately started bawling. I was scared shitless.
Anyways...the doctor told us I was having a miscarriage. And that it was common. And that it was mother nature's way of taking care of something that wasn't forming right. And that we can try again in 3-4 months. (but we weren't trying to begin with) And blah, fucking blah. Not helping. So the dr and Jason leave so I can get dressed and I cried.
I lost my baby.
Monday sucked. I mean I was obviously sad. I felt like my body betrayed me. I felt like being a mom and making babies is what I do, I am good at it. And now...I wasn't. I had let my family down and Jason down. I felt like this was my fault. Somehow I caused it. I was the one who should have been protecting my unborn child and it died. It was really, really hard.
And Tuesday rolled around and I was fine. I was seriously fine. Until right before bed. I saw pictures of a pregnant girl, ready to pop, and I was sad. I should be looking forward to that. I should be reading 'What To Expect When You're Expecting' again. I should be puking and happy because I was puking. I should be shopping at Motherhood Maternity and Pea In A Pod. But I'm not.
So today was awful. I cried in the shower before work. I managed to make it through the day and say what everyone expects you to say..that it is ok, it wasn't meant to be, that God has another plan, that I can try again. And with a sad smile. And I did it. I did it ALL day long.
But the day is over. And I am at home and I can finally say what I feel and want to say. So I am going to do it.
I know that people say shit that doesn't help..that doesn't do any fucking good..because they don't know what else to say. I know that. But let me tell you, it is bullshit to hear that you can try again, that you will get pregnant again, that something was wrong and it was for the best, or that God has a plan. Can you guarantee this? Can you tell me FOR SURE that this won't happen again? That I will DEFINITELY have another baby? I didn't think so. So no..that does not make me feel better. And I don't give a damn if something wasn't forming right...that does NOT help. If this baby had been born with two heads, one eye ball, and four ears, I would have loved it. I would have loved that baby as much as I love Bowen. And obviously Jason and I will try again. We are human..we like sex..and eventually we will want to try for a baby. So thanks for the permission. And no..that did not make me feel better. And I believe in a higher power. I believe in God. But at this moment...God's not on my good side.
This is what I know. I feel like I lost Bowen. I know what it is like to be pregnant and feel all those amazing things that makes it wonderful to be a mom. I know what feeling you get the first time you see your baby, the first time you hold it in your arms. I know that intense feeling of love that you can't describe to anyone. And I had all of that. I could picture that. I am telling you that I KNEW I was pregnant. And I loved that baby...negative test or not. I knew it. And it was taken from me. I feel like Bowen, my baby that I snuggle every night, has been taken from me. So I am grieving just like that.
So I appreciate all of the "I'm sorry"s and kind words and even the stupid things people say, like you can try again. I do appreciate it. Thank you for caring. It means a lot. BUT in case you ever have to tell someone again, just an "I am sorry" and "that is so shitty" and "if there is anything I can do for you let me know" is all you should say. Because the other stuff is just air. It doesn't help. It is the same as if you lost your own child. You would appreciate the fact that everyone cared and was concerned...but nothing would help.
Anyways..so there it is. There is the depressing, pissed off, and mess of my life right now. And I think I am in the pissed off stage of grief, so I am venting. It is not fair. I hate that I spent a month being sick and tired and trying to convince people of something and I have nothing to show for it. I hate that I was close..I was having another baby...and it was taken from me. It was stolen from me. And it is bullshit.
I hate to sound like, poor pitiful me, because I can't imagine having a miscarriage at 15 weeks or 6 months...or anything. It is awful. And my heart goes out to anyone who has had to deal with that. My heart aches for any parent who has lost a child. No parent should ever live to see a child pass away..whether they are in your uterus or out. It isn't fair. It is shitty. But here is my moment. I am sad. I am mad. And some day I will be fine. Some day I will move past this and it will just be another sad memory and something that happened. Maybe even something that made me stronger. But for today, it is shitty and I hate it. I hate every last bit of it.
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