one week
I was prepared for God to tell me something different than what the doctors told me. I was prepared to walk into my doctors appointment and hear a heartbeat. I was prepared to see my child grow from less than a centimeter to the size of a blueberry...
I wasn't prepared for nothing. Absolutely nothing. No change in the doctors answer. No heart beat. No growth. Nothing.
I wasn't prepared for the pain that followed behind losing my baby, both mental and physical... I wasn't prepared for the weeks of healing that follow behind losing something so pure and innocent.
Nothing prepared me for how sad I would feel seeing a pregnant person walk by and seeing something beautiful grow in them.... something that I can no longer relate to, something I can only remember.
Nobody told me that the sound of an infants cry would be a brutal reminder of the life I planned for being ripped from me and nobody asked was I ready. Nobody asked what I wanted or how I wanted to handle anything because I had no option.
How am I suppose to feel? I planned to love and raise and teach something of my own, and before I could even hear it's heart it was gone, while I still carried bits and pieces of its blood and flesh, and my body still ragged with hormones ... I felt no change after hearing there was no baby.
I was in denial, for a week I still believed there was something growing in me. For a week I still took my prenatal vitamins and rubbed my stomach in hopes for something...
Then my week ended with slight cramps that I ignored... cramps that's tortured me by the hour as they grew more and more intense. Cramps that came with clots of blood that I knew carried my lifeless child. The moment I lost that blood , I knew I lost my love.....
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