April 15, 2016.
In the U.S. it is tax day.
For me… it is the day I became a statistic.
I became 1 in 4.
It is the day I learned I had a miscarriage.
5 Weeks Earlier…
5 weeks earlier we learned I was pregnant with my third child. At first… I was SCARED. There was SO much going on at the time. We had just bought a house, were in the process of moving and our financial situation was not exactly stable… but being scared lasted only for 5 minutes (maybe less). I was truly EXCITED. I LOVE being a mom. My family vision includes three kids and with this pregnancy, we were getting closer to that vision. However, this would prove not to be like my first two pregnancies.
At my first OB appointment, it was noted during the ultrasound that the baby was a little bit smaller than it was supposed to be. Since it had a strong heartbeat they said not to worry. They would do another ultrasound in a couple of weeks. Note… I SAW my baby’s heartbeat. I saw the beauty and life that my husband and I created growing and living in me. But me not worry??? HA!!!
Did I mention I am a PA? I have worked in hospitals since I was 15 years old. My mind immediately started racing as my wheels turned and turned thinking about all the reasons why the baby was smaller than it should be. I went home and looked through my textbooks and online resources doing research as to what could potentially be wrong. As much as I tried, I could not stop thinking. My husband constantly reminded me to breathe and relax (he is obviously the calmer one)… and after a couple of days I did…kind of.
Now fast forward to a few days before my second appointment. I woke up in the middle of the night scared, crying and shaking from a nightmare. In the nightmare, I was doubled over in pain with severe stomach cramps followed by blood gushing from between my legs. I had a miscarriage. Sitting there scared and crying with replays of this nightmare going through my head, I knew I was going to lose the baby. Now you may be thinking “it was just a nightmare” how did I “know?” But I have what I call a special sense. I have dreams or premonitions when certain things are going to happen and I am able to tell the difference between a dream… or soon to be reality. As much as I wanted this to be just a dream, I knew I was heading for heartache.
April 15, 2016… The day of my second OB appointment. We drove to the doctor as a family. Hubby stood in the car with the girls (who were 2 and 4 years old at the time) as we had not shared the news of our pregnancy and we did not want our little parrots to do so before we were ready. As scared and nervous as I was because of my nightmare, I went upstairs by myself. This was our third child. I could do this. I already had two kids. This was just a routine visit. I was nauseous and could already start to see and feel the changes going on in my body. Everything had to be ok right?
Thanks to my medical training (for the purposes of this story… I mean that sarcastically), as soon as they did the ultrasound and I could see the screen… I saw there was no heartbeat. Immediately, I repeatedly told the doctor “There’s no heartbeat! There’s no heartbeat!” The anxiety… the fear… the dread rising in my voice was obvious and came pouring out of me. The doctor said to give her a second because she was still “looking” but I knew she was just trying to find the right words to say. But what are the right words? There are none.
Once she confirmed that there was no heartbeat… the dam holding back my anxiety, fear, dread and emotions overflowed and the tears fell from my eyes. The world around me exploded. My nightmare wasn’t a nightmare anymore. It was my reality. I had a miscarriage.
*** Make sure to check back for parts 2 and 3 of My Story: The Day I Became a Statistic. This story is definitely a part of the reason why I started blogging.