Members

As a member you'll be able to receive and send messages, keep your own photobook, agenda, ask questions, participate in the chat, and make new friends. All is free and you don't need email.
Sign up (free & anonymous)

Name: Password:

---

Activity
• Now online | Member search | New members | Comment Spy
• New blogs & Questions | Recently updated profiles
• New photos: Pregnancy | Babies | Bellies | Ultrasound | Member pages
• Latest comments: Forums | Week by week | Baby development

Write a new blog

---

19-11-2008 - My second BFP- finished

My mood while writing this blog: Staring out ok- may be crying by the end!

---

I lost my first pregnancy in May of 2000. It was a complete surprise, but so exciting and so heartbreaking. We decided we didn't care if we got pregnant again any time soon or not. So we didn't try to stop it. I don't remember everything, but I remember being at work and wondering if I am PG again. My friend brought me some tests. I took it and it came out negative. But like every other woman in the world, I kept going to the trash and looking at it again. I saw a faint line, and I had never heard of an evaporation line. I found out I was PG on my 24th birthday. Life was beautiful again- at least for a little while. A month later I got my first teaching job. It was really hard because being pregnant makes you so tired and your first year teaching is really a lot of work and very hard. I hate that I can't remember all that much about the pregnancy. My husband went to every appt. I had a sonogram around the end of November and we found out it is a boy. His name was Thomas Hunter. In my husband's family, the first born son of the first born son is always Thomas. We don't know how many generations this goes back, but it ended with us. On Dec. 2, I felt back aches and started to notice they were every 5 minutes. My husband was at work, so I called my doctor. She said to drink water and see if they stop. They didn't. So I had to go in the hospital. I expected them to give me a shot of something and make the contractions stop. They didn't. Tom came home from work and went in with me. We just left- no packing or anything. I really wasn't worried. In fact, a small ignorant part of me wanted to have the baby- not fully comprehending that it was just too early- 23 weeks. We don't have a NICU here. While in the hospital they continued to monitor me. When they tried to check to see if I was dilating, they could actually feel that bag of waters, not my cervix. It was bulging down the birth canal. They brought in a sonogram machine and watched my little guy actually move down into the bulge. For whatever reason that I still don't understand to this day, the fact that he moved down into the bulge meant that I had to have him and they couldn't stop it and he had no chance to survive- no lungs. So we got prepared. I wanted him to hear two certain songs, I wanted him to have his blankey, and give him his teddy bear. And I wanted pictures of him. I remember pushing him out. He came out feet first. It was hard work considering he was so small, but it was because of how he came out. He was all bruised from birth. I remember seeing him move his arm just once. We wrapped him up in his blankey. Everyone in the room was crying- the doctor, the nurses, my husband and I of course. He lived for 47 minutes. I don't know how since he had no lungs. We passed him around so that everyone got to hold him- including the nurses. All the people in that room are the only ones to ever know him, so in a way, they are his family. We had him baptised too- mostly because I still wanted to put God in his short life. I know he'd go to heaven no matter what. The really hard part came when they had to take him away after he died. My husband held him for hours and didn't want to give him up. Then I just felt this gapping hole in my heart and so lonely. That hole stayed with me until I had my son Ethan in 2004. I cried more than I ever thought possible and never felt better. My eyes were sore and chapped. I had to call into work and could hardly stop crying to tell my principal what had happened. Then I had to face a week's worth of sub plans- not a quick task especially when you are mourning. I didn't know what to wear in the following days either. I was too fat for normal clothes and maternity clothes would have been too hard to wear. But it was the awful stillness in my womb that was so hard to take. I remember being so angry because my dream of becoming a mom was so close and it was ripped away and I was back at square one. Not even square one, because we weren't going to try again for who knows how long. When you loose a baby, it knocks you down, but all the people that love you help you back up. But walking around with the gapping wound waiting for the slow healing is the hardest part. Everyone has moved on but you haven't. I became depressed but didn't know it. I became suicidal- sorta. I would neve have really done it because I couldn't do that to my husband. So in a way he saved my life. But man, I wanted to be dead. I wished we could be in some horrific car accident that would kill us both. Then we could be with our baby again. I would daydream of jumping off a bridge when I was overwhelmed with life, which was super easy to do- a sink full of dishes would do it. I would dream of impaling myself right through the heart when the pain was too much to bear. Eventually, I realized I needed help, got some antidepressants and therapy. I was better in about six months. I got to deal with a lot of issues- love therapy. I couldn't talk to any family about what I was going through. The baby was their relation, they were suffering a loss too. I couldn't handle them crying and hurting too. In therapy, the therapist is unattached and could handle it better. I highly recommend therapy. I also did a lot of things to make myself feel better like journaling my true feelings to God and to the baby. At Christmas, I would buy a gift for a child that would be his age from an angel tree. I would bake a cake on his birthday for a few years. This all happened eight years ago yesterday. I still miss him. It's hard to have all this love stored up inside and no way to deliver it, no way to express it to him. But this whole experience is the reason why I can't stand the sound of a ticking clock. The watch I wore at the time had a second hand that would tick. There were so many nights I spent crying alone (husband worked evening shift) and all I could hear was that damn ticking to remind me that I can't be with my baby until I die. How slowly time goes by when you hear every second and think that you could have as much as 60 years or more left. How many seconds is that? Nearly 2 billion, yeah, I did the math. It's been eight years now and I think, "Man, it's been eight years- that's a long time ago." But then I think that I could still have 52 more years to go. But I'm not in a rush, because I don't want to leave my babies here.

I'm ok with all of this now. It grew me up and gave me wisdom. It made me a better teacher, a better mother, a better Christian. This story doesn't even cover everything that happened in my life as a result of this loss. It is the worst thing to ever happen to me but also the best. Weird, huh?

---

2 Comments on My second BFP- finished


femi - Thursday, 20 Nov
oh wow i am so glad you're writing this in installments 'cause my heart is aching right now! plus we were discussing miscarriages yesterday at work and it breaks my heart that these things happen to us women. god bless your strength!

ihave6kids - Thursday, 20 Nov
that is so sad,i have had 2 misscarrages,the 2nd one was with twins,i felt like a total failour.