The heartache of it all

Well I’m back. I thought I was out of these rooms. After 9 months of TTC (which I know is nothing in comparison to some), I got my BFP. I’ll never forget how I felt my life change in a split second. I went from a feeling of deep down, unrelenting sadness and longing to feeling like I suddenly had everything I’d ever needed. I’m about to turn 36 so to have a baby by 37.. well it meant something also. Maybe a chance at another baby before 40. Just so many things that could happen now. Thinking of names. How to tell the world.. should we buy a house? See! There’s nothing wrong with us! We can go to the zoo, and parks and experience things we love through someone else’s eyes for the first time! So many things actually coming to fruition.

I had to wait until 8 weeks for my first ultrasound, but everything was going well. And after waiting the 4 agonizing weeks for the first ultrasound, we went in excited and left worried. My baby measured 6 weeks 5 days and should have measured 7 weeks 6 days. There was a strong heartbeat. My OB said, it’s nothing, it happens, but I knew exactly when I’d ovulated and the window was too wide. Slowly my pregnancy symptoms went away, and a terrifying voice in my gut said, this baby isn’t going to be born alive. Two days before my second ultrasound, I miscarried in my bathroom at home and was able to hold my baby in my hands. They don’t tell you that will happen at a 9 week miscarriage, but it does. You can see the arms and eyes. You can see it all. And then, what do you do? Flush your baby? Oh my gosh. What a heartache.

My husband said, maybe it’s still okay, maybe that was another one, and our baby is still okay. His heart as broken as mine. It took me years of me convincing him to finally try to make a family, but he had totally fallen in love with the idea. His immense sadness was worse than anything for me-and seeing him try to be strong FOR me. I wanted more than anything to ease his pain.

We are both in recovery from being addicted to opiates. We’ve been in recovery for years. The next day, the pain and bleeding started. The pain, is excruciating. I knew it was all normal, and since I have a 6,000$ deductible we avoided the ER. I laid down to rest and when I woke up I found my husband OD’d in the living room floor. I don’t know how he got drugs or when, but I knew why. His lips were blue. He was making sounds like he was being strangled. I tried to wake him and nothing. Even when we were using, nothing like this ever happened. I called 911 and administered CPR while talking to a stranger on the other end asking me if my husbands heart was beating, and me responding with, “no, is he dead?” And I couldn’t get him to breathe either. Finally emergency services arrived and revived him. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion up until the moment he sat up. He looked so scared and sorry. All he could do was apologize and tell me it would be okay. I was a mess of course. Suddenly losing our baby meant nothing. Losing my best friend for 15 years would have ended me.

Amazingly, there was no judgement from the paramedics, firemen, police and medical staff. No charges or questions were asked beyond what was needed to help my husband. I had assumed my husband would get in trouble and ultimately lose his job. But instead, they were all unbelievably sympathetic to both of us. We obviously aren’t regular drug users now. I realized these people probably see the pain of miscarriage more than anyone else. It was heart warming in a very dark moment.

We are both home and recovering now, and trying to work up the courage to start life again. And it is hard. But I know even without a baby, I have everything already. I don’t really have a point with this post beyond sharing my story. I don’t know how people mentally survive multiple miscarriages. My OB says 50% of women experience a miscarriage at some point. She is an amazing OB. She said to me, “This is probably TMI, but I had a miscarriage a month ago at 7 weeks pregnant and also held my baby”. I don’t know why, but it was a profound comfort to hear her story. In closing, I have so much love to all of you trying for your rainbow babies. I’m now one of you. But I’m ready to try again.