Tag: grief

I knew I was pregnant right away, as soon as I missed my period. Plus, we were trying for a baby. After a few months of negatives, the test was finally positive; I took another test to really confirm the following day.

Another positive.

I was beyond excited and couldn’t contain it.

I had already played in my mind how we would tell my parents, his family, and our closest friends.

I wanted to share my excitement immediately.

The same day of taking the second test, I wanted to share the good news, especially because my parents asked if we were going to have a child, but we always said no.

I couldn’t wait to record their reaction and treasure that memory forever.

They were ecstatic like I knew they would be.

Although Jonathan told me we should wait until we went to the doctors to confirm all was well, I wouldn’t listen. I was confident everything would be okay. 

The next person I couldn’t wait to tell was Lia.

She has been asking me for years if she could be a big sister. I’d never seen a child love babies like Lia loves babies.

For the longest, I’d tell her no, that we’d get her a puppy instead once we purchase a house. But I never told her that Jonathan and I were trying because I wanted to surprise her.

I recorded her reaction as well because I knew it would be priceless. From that moment on, it was just questions about the baby, touching my stomach, kissing it, and asking how the baby was.

Two days later the cramping started with spotting.

I know sometimes this is normal, so I didn’t worry too much about it.

But the bleeding worsens, so I called the OB, and they suggested to go to the hospital and not wait until my appointment Thursday to make sure everything was okay.

We arrived at the hospital and noticed that I bled through my pantiliner, so I asked for a pad. And I saw clots. I cried. I knew what was happening, but I still held on to a little bit of hope.

They did blood work, and they did an ultrasound. Jonathan told me he saw something flashing on the screen, and it reminded me of the first time I had a get a vaginal ultrasound with Lia, and they were able to find her right away. I saw the same thing, something pumping on the screen. They told me that was her heartbeat, so I thought it was the same this time around.

Once I get into the patient room, the nurse told me to put the hospital gown on, and the doctor would be in shortly. She gave me a warm blanket, and the waiting game began.

The doctor came in and started asking questions about my period, the pregnancy test I had taken, and my other pregnancies and birth. There has only been one other, and she is six years old, I said.

Well, the ultrasound doesn’t show anything, and your HCG levels are projecting a negative pregnancy test. It’s either a very early pregnancy, or this is your period. The only way to make sure is to do another blood test on Thursday since the hormone doubles every 48 hours.

WHAT! I’m not pregnant!? I thought immediately.

So, nothing showed up in the ultrasound? I asked.

No, here are the results. Any other questions.

No.

I’ll get the nurse to bring your discharge paperwork.

I looked straight ahead, numb, just completely numb. I was trying to comprehend what I was informed. Wrap my head around what happened, what is going on, is this true? Am I really living this right now?

Jonathan just hugged me and kissed me and immediately the tears rolled down my face.

I felt so stupid. Why did I have to be so impatient? Why couldn’t I just wait to tell everyone. Now, I must tell them that there isn’t a baby, after getting everyone’s hopes up. Especially Lia. Ugh. This sucked.

Well, we got home, Jonathan ordered hibachi for us and we watched SNL – I needed the laugh.

Every time I went to the bathroom, there was a cruel reminder that I was not pregnant. The reminder that my baby wasn’t going to be my baby. The reminder that my baby didn’t make it. The painful reminder that I am now one of the many women to understand this kind of pain. That I, too, had so many hopes and dreams for my unborn child, even though it had only been two days. Because when you are trying to conceive, you start dreaming and planning before you conceive. You think about how you’re going to announce, the maternity pictures, the doctors’ appointments, and time off work. You picture your family’s reactions and the happiness and joy that this baby will bring. You want this so bad that when it finally happens, after waiting, it feels surreal, like yes! This time around, we did it! We finally did it! Only to have all those dreams and plans shattered every time you go to the bathroom and realize there’s no baby.

I went to my appointment on Thursday. I was so anxious and annoyed that because of COVID, Jonathan couldn’t go inside the appointment room with me. They needed a urine sample. I told the Medical Assistant it would have blood because of my bleeding, and she said that’s fine. I couldn’t pee. I was shaking and too anxious. After what felt like forever, I told the MA I couldn’t go. She said that’s okay. She took my vitals and took me to room number one.

I called Jonathan so he would be on the phone while I spoke to the doctor. The Nurse Practitioner came in, and I explained everything to her. She asked me a few follow-up questions and took my results from the hospital to the doctor. Shortly after, the doctor came in, and he reviewed my chart and told me that he needs a urine sample because this could be going two ways, either this is my period on a heavy flow or I’m having a miscarriage. Still, the only way to find out was with the urine sample.

I asked him if the pregnancy test would still show positive even if I were having a miscarriage. He reminded me again that the blood work is the most accurate pregnancy test, and it came back negative; also, that home test can provide false positives.

They gave me some water and back to the bathroom I went. I was finally able to provide a urine sample and I called Jonathan again.

Another nurse practitioner came to tell me that my test came back negative. “YOU’RE NOT PREGNANT,” she told me. Sitting there so annoyed, she said to me that sometimes we miscarry before the body can show up on the tests that we are pregnant, which is what is probably happening to me.

I left more confused than before. I told Jonathan the results and we went home. Once I got home Lia ran up to me asking if there was a baby and I told her no.

She immediately started bawling, and I explained that this happens sometimes, but we have to continue asking God for a sibling, and he will bless us when the time is right. She then asked me why did I tell her there was a baby if there wasn’t. That broke my heart. I responded, I wouldn’t do that to her; I wouldn’t tell her there was a baby if I didn’t think there was. She kept asking questions because she’s not the kid to take a simple answer and just go with it. So, I told her that the baby needed to attach to my insides, and it didn’t, so now I’m bleeding. Each day, after that, she would ask me if I was still bleeding. Honestly, Lia is such a great kid and really cares for the people she loves; it’s incredible to see. Now, when we do our nightly prayer, we ask for a healthy baby.

My faith in God has grown over the years, and I feel that if it weren’t for the relationship I have with him and the faith I have in him, I would have been worse. I know that this happens, and I know that it wasn’t my fault. But at that moment, I couldn’t shake off the feeling of being stupid. I felt like I got everyone’s emotions and hopes up just to crush them a few days later. I felt like I should have listened to Jonathan and that I shouldn’t be so impatient.

I know God is in control, and He knows why everything happens; I don’t question him ever. I just know that in his timing, he will provide us with a healthy baby. God placed it in my heart to have a baby after my grandfather passed. I said I would only stay with Lia for years, and Jonathan also mentioned he didn’t want more kids. But after my grandfather died and I saw my uncles and my aunt all sharing their grief, I remembered back when my mom passed how everything fell on me because my sister was only six years old and couldn’t help me make decisions; I realized I could not do this to Lia. I cannot let all that burden of when I pass fall on her alone.

From then I stopped taking the birth control pills.

This has been a tough loss and emotional also but with God, Jonathan, and my family they are helping me get through it.

Thank you for reading until the end.

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