At 21 I got pregnant for the first time. I was engaged and living with the boy I've loved since I was 12. He'll be finished with his degree in December. The baby is due February 13th. This is fine. We will be fine.
I'm working two jobs. One at a bank, which I hate (because of the people) and one as a waitress. We will be fine.
We tell our parents. My mother accepts the news with positivity. His parents do not. We were both raised to be good Catholic children and how could we be so irresponsible. I am angry. We are apologetic. We will make a plan. We will be fine.
A week later I start bleeding. I'm in so much pain. I've lost it. I'm not fucking fine.
We are 24. We have a healthy, perfect 18 month old boy. We are living with my in-laws. We find a great apartment. We decide to try again. It happens fast. The test is positive. I am scared. I change my diet and take my vitamins but I make no plans. Tell no one except parents and siblings. We will be fine.
At my 8 week ultrasound we are told everything looks perfect. Everything is great. The ultrasound tech almost says something. I notice her pause and ask what's wrong. She calms me by saying it's probably scar tissue from my c-section. We will be fine.
At 12 weeks we tell everyone we know. Yay! We've reached the second trimester. We will be fine!
At 14 weeks I start to feel it. I am not fine. I take care of my son and go about my day trying to ignore it. My husband is at work. My father in-law is at work. My mother in-law is upstairs working. You're fine. It's all in your head.
My pain has gone from a whisper to a scream. I put my son down for a nap. When I stand I feel wet. I've bled through my clothes. Shit. When did I start bleeding?
After I get cleaned up I go up to talk to my mother in-law. I break down. I tell her I don't think I can do this again. I can't. She soothes me. She tells me not to panic. I calm. Yes, I will be fine.
My husband gets home and we go to the ER. I feel like I'm in a daze. Migraine begins. They won't let me have anything. Uh Oh.
The ultrasound tech asks us if we are sure about the timeline. Uh Oh. She says lets try the "other" kind of ultrasound. Women know. The one that happens early in pregnancy. The one where you have to take your pants off. I'm in a daze. I don't put it together.
There's no heartbeat. The "fetus" is only measuring 8 weeks. She's sorry. I'm confused. I'm past the 12 week mark! I have my appointment on Monday! What are you talking about? "There's no heartbeat, I'm sorry" We are broken. We cry together for a moment. I go to the bathroom and collapse. I am broken.
Two hours of crying later the ER doctor comes back. He says something along the lines of "Why the long faces?" My normally quiet husband tells him we had the ultrasound two hours ago. "Oh hahaha I thought you guys just didn't like me!" What the fuck man? Read the room! We are not fine!
It's time for my D & C now and I'm still in a daze. I start to think about the baby I loved and wanted so badly getting scraped out of me. I'm nauseated. Uh Oh. I am relieved for a moment that I have the same anesthesiologist from the birth of my first child. Until I throw up all over everything. He snaps at me that I could have aspirated. I'm ashamed. My nurse helps me as I cry and tell her I only vomited because I am so upset. She soothes me. I am not fine.
It was a girl. Her name was Lily.
We are 25. We decide to try again on our anniversary. The test is positive right away. I feel like something isn't right. I am not fine.
My husband tries to calm me. But, he's not fine either.
We take our happy 2 year old on a picnic. But, I feel sick. I'm going to throw up. We quickly leave. I vomit all over the car. Something is not right.
2 days later I start bleeding. I fucking knew it. My son is asleep for the night when I "find out"
I repeat it over and over like that will somehow make it better. I FUCKING KNEW IT! I'm crying, my husband is comforting me. I'm screaming and crying. Not again. I can't. I'm not strong enough. He doesn't cry with me this time. He's detached. He protected his heart. Why couldn't I do that? I will never be fine again.
At the doctors a few days later it was confirmed that I lost the pregnancy. I fucking knew it. Because of the short notice I had to see the midwife in that practice. I hated her. She told me something must be wrong with me since I kept miscarrying. Now this is the same bitch that publicly shamed (Yes announced it to the entire office) me for eating two bowls of cereal one morning during the pregnancy of my first born. I don't fucking like her. But I believe her.
It's my fault. My fault. John (my husband) and I fought. I said I'm done. I can't go through this again. He wanted another child. I was still mourning. He didn't mourn with me this time. I wanted another child too but I was scared.
6 months later I felt strong enough. I did not feel like my family was complete. We got pregnant right away. We paid for early testing. We went to a different doctor and a specialist all throughout the pregnancy. I had another healthy 9 pound boy. My family was complete.
I am not fine. But, I am still here.
Did I mention Chiari can cause miscarriages?
Fuck Chiari.
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