My loss, my D&C and how I'm actually doing okay.

When I walked into the doctors room, I was more nervous about my first pap (I just turned 21 and made an awkward cut off to not receive one younger.) I was nervous about twins. I was nervous about exposing my vagina in a horribly lit room. I never doubted that my little bean wasn't thriving. My doctor, whom I've known personally for a little over a year was sharing how her kids had been and how the new house they are building is coming along when she stopped and pulled the screen away. I'm a little "thick" as some say, and even I know that my little bean was still tiny at even 12 weeks, but nothing would come up via the abdominal scan. She did the dreaded vaginal scan and stopped mid sentence of our conversation. She got quiet, firm, and I felt her nerves tense. She said we were measuring at 8 weeks and a couple days. I knew physically this wasn't possible. I know my body and I know my due date was correct. Little Beans heartbeat couldn't be found. A few doctors later, countless blackened mascara tears, sweaty palms, and squeezing my husbands hand so tight he had to let go; it was over. I had hardly made the connection to really becoming a mom and now so quickly, I wouldn't be. I wouldn't have my June baby weeks after my 2nd wedding anniversary. I wouldn't have my June baby weeks before their Daddy's 25th birthday. I wouldn't be having my June 17th, 2015 who had a chance of sharing their birthday with Grandpa.

My doctor said she knows I didn't do this. That my baby wasn't ready for the world for whatever reason and that it was truly best for everyone. She told me that while chances of miscarriage are less than 5% in the 8th week that its so, so common. Me though? I felt an over rush of hate, betrayal, jealously, sadness, and loneliness. I was hateful towards anyone pregnant, any parent. I felt   betrayed by my body for not doing what it should have naturally and for letting me be so happy and in love with a hopeless cause. I felt jealous of every nasty, unhappy, unloving drug addicted at births babies addicted to drugs and who get to live, but my baby, who changed my life and had me eating oranges and taking vitamins like clock work wasn't strong enough to live. And I felt alone, like every single women had their babies except me. I think these are all common feelings for someone in those shoes.

My doctor gave me my opinions. Natural, medicated, surgery. I've never even had my tonsils removed, a broken finger or arm, nothing. I immediately chose surgery. My doctor is a specialist in OBGYN and I knew she was correct when she told me I had an extremely high risk of infection already. For me, for my husband, for my baby and for my future babies I had to choose. And I choose surgery because it promised me a lower chance of infection and pain and it promised me the most important thing: Properly cleanse my body fully, 100%. I knew within minutes that even though this baby wasn't with me, that (s)he was going to watch over me and protect his/her siblings. We decided we wanted another baby immediately. That our lives must not stop, that they must continue to be positive, blessed and filled with tiny belly laughs and dirty diapers. 

The morning of my D&C on December 9th, I was nervous. Every nurse and doctor that walked with me, talked to me, helped hold me down for the IV; all spoke gentley and reassuringly. I cried today. Because I had to get an IV. I didn't cry because my babys time was over so soon. I cried because I had to get a nasty needle shoved in one of my freakishly small veins. Due to my personal schedule, I wasn't able to have the D&C for five days. This was the single best choice I've made lately. It allowed me time to hold my belly a few more times, to tell my baby o loved them, to come to terms that I would survive this, to scream and cry into the shoulders of my strong, but heart broken Husband, to talk and talk and talk some more to my family and few select friends. To get back to work (where I am a nanny and work with a pregnant momma). To cook some meals, and indulge in some junk snacks at odd hours of the day. To be normal. Now, back to today, December 9th. I got my IV in (barely), I got my "chill water" to relax, and then I was off to the OR. The last thing I said was "man, my fucking arm is falling off. This isn't normal you guys. I watch A LOT of Greys Anatomy!" And I fell asleep to the sound of doctors and nurses laughing. 30 minutes of surgery, an hour nap and I was kind of awake. The nurses got to me promptly and I said "what have you done with me husband?!" The nurse giggled and said he would be right in. Upon seeing him I cried. Why? "Because he didn't bring me tiny pocket puppies or an airplane." (It's okay guys, you can laugh!) After checking my heart and lungs (I literally forgot how to normally breathe) I was quickly dressed with minimal bleeding, nearly no pain, my dignity still in tact surprisingly (because really, at least 10 people just saw my vagnia.) 

I'm home. I'm drugged. I'm tired. My body is sore. I have a headache. I'm eating great food. I'm surround by my ringing phone blowing up with well wishes, and "check ins." I'm on the couch with three fuzzy blankets, fuzzy socks, and my animals while my husband finally catches some Z's a couple inches away on the other couch. My heart hurts a little, but is still so full of love from my baby. I am okay, today. So here's a small wrap up, a list, of the key elements I don't want you to forget: 

1)  Share. Share your story. Share it was family, friends, strangers, whoever. Do not go through this alone. 

2) Be positive. Just like when anyone you love passes away, your baby doesn't want your heart to hurt. Let them protect you. It's okay to continue on with your life. It's okay to keep being normal. 

3) If time, schedules, your health and your doctor allow; Grieve at home. These 5 days were so important to me. Today, after all was said and done, and I told my husband that I'm glad I had to wait a few days to get into the OR. I needed that time to do me the way I wanted to. 

4) Laugh and Smile. You, yes, you. You have a beautiful smile and a contagious laugh. Your baby is listening, so let them hear it. ❤️

I hope this can help some of your hearts. I read a lot of great things from fellow women that helped get me trough. I want to help you get through. Do not mind my drugged up grammar and spelling, please :)