I feel like I could write a novel right here and now. I also wish I could go back and blog the last five months in one day. But I can’t, so I’ll just start in the present and go back when necessary. This is a blog about trying to conceive my rainbow baby. The baby after the storm so to speak.
Here’s the background:
In February 2012 I miscarried what would have been Lydia’s sibling, our second child, the final piece of the Wagner puzzle. But it wasn’t mean to be. At around 7 weeks I started spotting, then cramping, then bleeding heavily. It was my worst nightmare come true.
Sunday February 5th started as an ordinary day. I was still pregnant. By mid afternoon I saw blood, just a little. Panic set in but I tried to remain calm and positive. I put on a panty liner. We were having guests over so that helped in the distraction.
Monday February 6th I continued to “spot.” I went to the doctor, remaining cautiously optimistic. People bleed during pregnancy sometimes, right? Still, just below the surface I was worried. The baby popped up on the ultrasound screen, heart beating stronger than the first time we heard it just five days before. Sigh of relief. However, the baby had only grown 3 days. It had been five since the first ultrasound (it measured two weeks behind at that point). The doctor was not worried. Sent me home with orders to have no sex for the remainder of the first trimester and said it must have been implantation bleeding. But wait, doesn’t that happen when the baby implants? That happened a while ago. That night I went to work. I still felt “off.” Still spotting. Still needing a panty liner. But at least things weren’t getting worse.
Tuesday February 7th still spotting. But I wasn’t feeling any worse. Still felt that weight in my chest. Something is wrong. Started googling Threatened Miscarriage. Went to work that night and started having back pain. The spotting was picking up. Still felt off, but trying to remain positive. If I was going to have a miscarriage wouldn’t it be obvious? Turns out it would be.
Wednesday February 8. We were supposed to go to Gymboree but I felt weird. I had a bad feeling. Still spotting. Cramping a little too. I decided not to go and thank God for that, because that was the day my life would change forever. By mid-morning I was doubled over with cramping. Then the bleeding started. And the clotting. My heart sank. I loaded Lydia in the car and called the doctor on the way. They couldn’t see me until that afternoon. Unbelieveable. The nurse told me to put on a heating pad and take Tylenol. I called my mom in a crying panic. I could barely breathe through the pain. Mom, I need you to come watch Lydia. Please, something is really wrong. Mom explained that she was busy and had to meet a client soon. I don’t remember much after that. I do know that Mom ultimately did come to my place. Before that my step-dad came to watch Lydia while I laid in bed moaning in pain. Mom showed up next. She tried to tell me to stay calm. Through my tears I told her something is wrong, very wrong. I knew. Glen came home shortly after.
The blood was bright red and coming strong. I knew it was the end. By the time we got to the OB the cramps had started subsiding. After an hour in the waiting room, the OB confirmed what I’d already knew. The ultrasound was blank. No sack. No baby. Nothing. “I’m afraid you’ve had a miscarriage,” he says. No shit. “When can we start trying again?” 3 cycles he says. Great. Just fucking great.
wantinganotherwagner 