on loss, part two.

The doctors told me that there was a 50/50 chance that the bleeding would resolve itself. It was a tear in the placenta, and they didn't know why. I left the ER feeling just fine. I was tired and drugged and everything, but I thought that everything would be fine. I'd be on bedrest, maybe for the whole pregnancy, but it would be fine. I didn't prepare myself for the other side of the 50% chance. I went home, arranged for some takeout, and sat. And sat and sat. The bleeding got less and less as the hour went by, and that had to be a good sign. The cramping was harder to gauge that the bleeding, but I sat.

In the middle of the night I was tossing and turning. I was hurting so badly, but the bleeding had stopped. I thought it was a good sign, that the bleed was healing. I asked Kristopher for a blessing and I didn't get the answer that I wanted. Only a few minutes after the blessing I passed my sweet baby in my bathroom and held him in my hand. I was screaming. I was screaming and crying and completely heartbroken. How could this be happening? How could this be the end of this story?

In the other room, probably because of my screaming, Abby woke up. How would I ever be able to tell her in a way that she would understand what had happened? How would she do? Would she care? Would she be heartbroken?

After a while, I tried to put myself back together. Everything was a mess and it was the middle of the night and I had this tiny baby. My mom came over to take care of the kids and we went back to the hospital. Sometimes when I'm especially sad I think about those moments- play them back in my mind watching myself go through the motions. We had instructions from the on call doctor to bring the baby to the hospital with us, and that I needed to be looked at to make sure that everything was alright with me. We placed the baby in a plastic box. It was so surreal. We drove to the hospital, and I held that box all the way inside. I thought that people would think I was crazy. I had my dead baby in a box in my lap.

My baby was a boy. I didn't have to ask the doctor or wait for lab results because it was evident. Every week I was getting email updates on the size of the baby, and this was the picture for 13 weeks. I thought that it was crazy how the baby looked exactly like this.

Things at the hospital are a bit of a blur to me. I was in so much pain. They tried to avoid doing a D+C but eventually decided that it was necessary. I was surprised to find out that I would need general anesthesia, but I was so glad because that would mean a break from the pain.

More again later.

1 comment:

My name is Lydia said...

I read this forever ago but never commented. I checked back today and saw still no one has commented on it, but i just wanted to say i really appreciate this post. thanks for sharing something so personal. it's truly inspiring.

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