Week 8

Well all, I have some really sad news.  The doctor has told us to expect a miscarriage.  I spent all day Thursday at the hospital doing ultrasounds and blood tests.  The doctor told me that my body is technically pregnant and ready to grow a baby, but the fertilized egg probably didn’t implant properly.  Therefore, no baby is growing.  About 33 % of all pregnancies result in miscarriage, 13% being women who never even knew they were pregnant.  And once they start bleeding, they just think it’s their period.  20% of known pregnancies result in a miscarriage.  This is where I fall.  Let me tell you, it’s devastating.  Although the baby isn’t real yet to your family and friends, the second you find out you are pregnant, you start falling in love.

So Nate and I spent the weekend wandering through our stages of grief.  I spent a long time in denial, and a part of me will stay there until I actually miscarry.  You can’t help but hope for a miracle.  And you so badly want to tell the doctors they are wrong and dumb.  Also I completely believe, irrationally, that if I had never gone to that appointment, none of this would have happened.  Because maybe the baby just needs more time.  And, again, the doctors are dumb.  I think Nate is still in denial, and will probably stay there until he comes with me this week and hears from the doctors himself.  Or until I actually miscarry. I think it’s all a little surreal for the dads.  And it’s hard for them to stomach that they couldn’t protect their family from this.

I’ve gone through some bargaining too.  Like I will never complain about being pregnant again if I can just keep this baby.  Not only is this ridiculous, but even I know that’s a lie.  I am a woman and a mom, and that is my right.  I’ve only really felt anger towards the doctors.  Because like I said before, they are dumb.  I’ve definitely gone through depression the most, when I’m not bouncing back to denial.  I think depression is the hardest of the stages, but the closest to acceptance.  I also feel like it’s the healthiest of the stages because it seems natural to just be sad about this.

So I’ll be sad for a while, and that’s okay.  Don’t let anyone tell you any different.  It may not have been real for most people in your life, but it was growing inside of you, and your body was reminding you every minute.  I think my hardest moment was walking out of the doctor’s office alone, red-faced, and crying, into a waiting room of at least 20 pregnant women, and I know they can all see right through me.  I am no longer one of them, and they are all thinking, “Thank God it’s not me.”  I know I’ve had that thought in the past.  The minute you get pregnant, you start worrying about that little life.  And you will never stop worrying for the rest of your life.  That’s being a mom.  Be proud, and worry on.  And try not to beat yourself up when you couldn’t prevent your baby from getting hurt.  Sh*t happens, and you can only do so much.

So here I am, going through my stages.  And praying for strength and acceptance for myself, and all other moms who have, or are currently going through this.  We WILL all get through this and be on the other side soon enough.  Until then, it’s okay to cry.  A LOT.

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