I have a wonderful daughter. I love her with every fiber in me. I know that she is my miracle. According to doctors, I am not able to carry a baby to full term. Something I have found out again and again since I had my daughter. Every loss of life was hard. All the false hopes and huge disappointments led to me only having one daughter. But I get to have my daughter. I have had too many miscarriages to count and one stillborn.
I still remember very vividly that day. I was home alone with my daughter. I was always home alone with her back then. It was New Years Eve 2010. My husband at the time was at work. I was having heavy cramps and I thought I was on my period. I think a part of me knew that I was pregnant, but I was too scared of it going away to do anything about it. Part of my disorder is I don’t always have regular periods, so I wasn’t 100% sure. I called my sister to bring me some Midol or something and she said OK. I put the TV for my daughter, who was 5 at the time, and laid on the couch as the cramps got worse. I found myself pacing and then I realized that I was most likely having another miscarriage. I had had a few of these already so I was prepared to go to the restroom and have it pass. To look down and see it in the toilet, shed a tear, and flush. It would be a small sack nothing even close to resembling a baby, but I would know what it was. But on this day that did not happen.
My sister, not realizing what was going on, took her time getting to me. She stopped and picked up some tacos and other period type food ready to binge out in pajamas. Man I love her. She got there and I was sitting in the chair rocking back and forth from the pain. The rolling roller coasters of contractions. She saw me for all of a minute before she knew she had to get me to the hospital. We dropped my daughter off and I called my husband to meet us there.
It was a horrible experience, to say the least. I waited in the waiting room for a long time before they took me back. The lady looked at me like I was stupid because I was not sure when my last period was. Granted I should have been keeping track of these things, but my cycle was so messed up back then. I really didn’t know. In front of her I am having contractions and they take me back. They give me medicine to calm the pain and I am finally comfortable. Then it gets worse.
They ask for everyone to leave the room and do an ultrasound as my pee has confirmed that I am pregnant. And there on the screen I see my baby, but I do not hear the heartbeat. Neither does the doctor or nurse, but none of us say it. I already know. I have two options. I can have them go in and get the baby, or wait and let it happen naturally. I choose to wait. I didn’t want to have surgery. I wanted to get home as soon as possible. It took only a few more hours before it was time.
I remember being in pain and sad about losing another baby. My husband was sitting next to me and all I could do was try to comfort him. This upset my sister so much, but she wouldn’t tell me until later. She was frustrated that I was in pain, I was losing a child, and he needed comforting. Looking back on it, that is true. In that moment I had to be physically and emotionally strong.
It was time and they asked for everyone to leave the room. It isn’t a happy moment where a husband holds your hand and eagerly awaits the sound of a baby’s cry. There’s no pediatric nurses or loved ones bringing flowers. It was just me, a doctor, and a nurse. I lay back and push. Twice. Two pushes was all it took. I put my hands over my eyes and looked away. I could not look at the baby. I never asked about gender or anything else. It was a baby. I felt it, I delivered it. I still don’t know. They wrapped the baby up and placed it in a container and left quickly. I cried for a little bit while the doctor finished up. He squeezed my hand, looked me in the eye with sorrow, and left. No words spoken. The nurse came back in and asked me to stand and I got cleaned up.
They discharged me a few hours later. On the way home I told him that I didn’t want to keep trying to have children. He said he understood and we didn’t talk much the rest of the day. And that night we had a New Years Eve party at our house. No one but us three knew what happened. My husband asked if I wanted to cancel the party, but I could tell he didn’t really want to. So I said that it was fine. I glued a fake smile on my face, but at midnight we didn’t kiss right away. We hesitated and I could tell something was changing. By that Summer he would be living with someone else and she would give him a daughter shortly after.