Someone I Love Will Never Be Born
Back in May 2017, I went to see a community theater musical with my bestie. While the acting was great, the play itself was really boring. My mind drifted to thinking about when I should be getting my period so I could go get an IUD put in. Long story short, I found out I was pregnant that night.
My baby was an oops. But I was in love with that little oops within an hour of realizing she (then still an it) was there. It took about two hours to come to terms that I was going to be a mom – something I was scared to death to become but already on my way to becoming.
I had planned to tell my parents in some cute, pinterest-y way. I ended up blurting it out to them 12 hours later, right before my mom and I left to go to the Women’s Show. My parents went from “You’ve got to be kidding me to well lets figure this out to we get to be grandparents again!” over the next two months. I honestly couldn’t ask for better parents. They were willing to help me do whatever I needed to become a wonderful mother to my baby.
You might be wondering, well, what about the father? To say he wasn’t happy about the baby is an understatement. He begged me to get an abortion. Told me I was selfish for wanting to let this little life grown inside of me. And even worse – told me he was praying to his god that I would miscarry. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to do anything to hurt the little baby inside of me.
After hearing my baby’s heartbeat twice, I decided to announce my pregnancy to the world. You may have seen my announcement – it was my kitty Ursula “reading” a what to expect when you human is expecting book. My friends told me I was announcing really early, but I wasn’t worried. I don’t do drugs, I don’t really drink. Body-wise I’m a little overweight but other than that, quite healthy. Internet said that after 8 weeks AND hearing a heartbeat, my risk of miscarriage was down to 1%.
That’s why I never expected to go to the doctor and have him tell me my baby was gone. I honestly don’t remember much after being told my baby had no heartbeat. But I do remember him asking me if my boobs had stopped hurting, if my nausea had subsided, if I hadn’t ‘felt’ pregnant anymore. Like I should have known my baby was no longer living.
I didn’t really believe it at first. Doctor’s could be wrong. People on the internet said that this had happened to them but then a week later the heartbeat was back. I made my primary OB order testing of the pregnancy levels in my blood – if they were going down, then I really did lose my baby. That weekend was one of the longest of my life. For the second blood test, the one that would either show the levels going up (baby still alive) or the levels going down (the baby had died), I didn’t even wait for the results to post on my online medical chart. I went back a hour later. And like I knew, but had hoped against hope, they had dropped.
As of the time of me writing this, I still don’t know what happened to my baby. It has been about a week and a half since I had my D&C, where the doctor basically vacuums your baby out of you when your body isn’t miscarrying normally. Most the time I’m completely numb and feel nothing. Then I’ll randomly bawl my eyes out over nothing that has to do with being pregnant or having a baby. I was a mess watching the season finale of Doctor Who. Because that makes sense.
I haven’t been posting because I really haven’t been doing much of anything. Well, except binge watching new shows on Netflix and making cookies which I then inhale. I don’t know what the next few weeks will be like with my motivation. But I am still here and I do promise to get back to doing what I love – which is writing and creating for all of you.