Not very long after the loss of my beloved son,
things finished crumbling in the marriage and we separated
and eventually divorced. This separation was brought on
by yet another act of domestic abuse, and I had reached my
breaking point. Shortly after that separation,
I met a man on the internet who was to become my current
husband. Almost immediatly once we got together we were
pregnant. This pregnancy was to be short-lived.
I knew I was pregnant, but I also knew from the
beginning that something was wrong. I just couldn't
figure out what that “something” was. I knew however
that this pregnancy would not make it and that
I would lose this child. I was having severe cramping
pains, and started spotting lightly. Everyone kept telling
me not to think so negatively, and that everything would
be fine. There was no reason to believe I would
lose a second child. “After all”, I was told
“Lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place”
YEAH RIGHT!!!
As I expected, in my 8th week of pregnancy, I discovered
that I was losing this pregnancy. I had gone
into my doctor's office because I was spotting heavier
and the cramping pains I was having were getting worse.
I was with a new doctor because I had moved
to New Hampshire. They of course ordered the ultrasound
because I was already considered a “High Risk Pregnancy”
due to my previous late term loss, and I was spotting.
The ultrasound showed my baby had no heartbeat,
and because of my previous loss being “held on to”
by my body they feared the same thing would happen
if I didn't have another D&C. So they told me to
come back later that afternoon to have the
proceedure done. I was confused by this.
To have a D&C done in the office rather than the hospital
was something I hadn't expierienced before.
I asked about being “put under”, and I was told they
didn't like doing that because of the dangers,
that I would be fine without anesthesia.
I would need to only take tylenol for the pain after
it was over because I was so early into the pregnancy.
So with tears again, I called my husband at work.
I told him that I needed him, and that he needed to get
out of work and why. I didn't get very far before
he couldn't understand me because I was crying
so hard and asked to talk to the doctor.
The doctor explained as best as he could what I was about
to go through. I felt so guilty.
My body had once again betrayed me.
I thought to myself
“What if he blames me for the loss of his child”,
“What if he thinks this is my fault”,
“Is he going to leave me because of this?”
I got into the car, wiped my eyes, and drove
to my husband's work. When I arrived my husband
was sitting on the curb smoking a cigarette. He stood
right up and made a dash for the car like I had never seen.
When he got in, he gave me the biggest hug
I think I've ever gotten in my entire life.
He told me how much he loved me
and he assured me this was not my fault, and he wasn't mad
at me. He then told me how sorry he was and began
to cry right along with me.
I don't know how he knew what I was thinking
or feeling, but he knew. He then told me that we were
going to go get something to eat. I told him I didn't feel
like eating and he basically told me he didn't care,
I was going to at least make an effort to eat something.
When we got there, I ordered a hamburger,
but after only 3 bites I was so sick to my stomach
that I thought I was going to be sick, and had
to stop eating. My husband was happy with the
“attempt” I had made. We left there and went back
to the doctor's office. This was where we said our
“goodbye” to our beloved daughter.
I rubbed my belly for the “last time”
and told her I'd meet her in heaven one day.
My husband followed my lead.
This was the first time he'd spoken to my belly.
He took my hand as the receptionist called us into the
exam room and the tears started falling faster and harder.
Again I started yelling
“No, not again, this must be a mistake,
this cant happen to me twice.
What did I do to deserve this? Why is God punishing me?”
My husband assured me that this was not my fault,
and that there was a good reason why this child
didn't make it into this world. He promised me that one day
we would have that child we both longed for so bad.
He was so positive. I wish I could have had his positive
thinking and attitude. After the proceedure was over,
we returned home. I felt so empty and all I wanted
to do was cry. My husband held me tighly,
and continued to reassure me. The next few days
brought signs of problems. I had stopped bleeding
too soon, and was doubling over in pain.
My husband brought me to the doctor as soon
as I got to the point where I could no longer sit up.
He knew this wasn't right and something was wrong.
Turned out after they did a ultrasound on me that
my uterus was Hemorrhaging. Instead of what was supposed
to have happened. So once again they had to repeat
the proceedure. Never in my life had I expirienced
such pain connected with pregnancy. Once again I was sent
home to deal with the new reminder of my loss,
as if I needed another reminder. The following day
I lost what was left of the pregnancy. My husband once again
held me tightly and assured me that we would be successful
next time around. He was right.
Although it was one complication followed by another,
we had our son 7 weeks premature in November of 1999.
