So many people write about the beauty of pregnancy. The wonderful moments of “blessings and bliss” but not everyone likes to ackowledge, publicly, about the scares and tears. I was one of them, too, so I know.
You try to conceive with this notion in your mind that it will be a true blessing and all you’ll have to go through are uncomfortable sleeping positions, maybe some nausea, and heartburn. Other than that, you don’t think about anything else. I mean, why even think about the not so happy thoughts? Will it into existence, right?
I’ve had the worst nausea imagineable since the start of conception and upset stomachs don’t even really begin to describe how I felt. I lost 5lbs in two days from throwing up and not being able to keep anything down. I felt miserable. My face broke out like a teenage boy going through puberty. I did NOT feel very pretty in these moments. Still, I was so thrilled to be carrying life within me.
Here I am, almost in the home stretch to the second trimester, the safe zone, and I walked out of work in tears because I just passed the biggest blood clot I have ever laid eyes on. “Oh, God, no. Not my baby. Anything but my baby.No, no, no, no.” I had to collect myself, compose myself, and calmly drive to the nearest Urgent Care center. And I was fine, keeping my nerves calm as to not scare my 4-year-old who was with me.
“Hi, I need to be seen, I’m having some bleeding,” I said to the front desk receptionist.
I swallowed shakingly, tears filling up my eyes quicker than high tide and said, “I think I’m losing my baby.I don’t know what to do. I just need help, please.”
They took me in right away, no more questions in the lobby. My ten week old fetus was later seen on the ultrasound, kicking away. Heart rate at a steady 195 bpm. I cried of relief but it was so hard to be happy. I thought I was losing my precious child. I kept thinking, in that moment, that if it was gone, truly gone, I would not be able to try again. The pain of even thinking of this loss was too great for me to handle.
They called it a Threatened Abortion/Miscarriage. Threatened.
I took the doctor’s advice and stayed on bedrest. But not for very long. My sister was getting married and I needed to put my big girl pants on to be there for her big day. Not long after this happened, I packed our bags and drove six plus hours. I was in so much discomfort, so much agony. I was depressed. But I knew I had to be there for her and I needed to be surrounded by family. And what a beautiful weekend it was, full of love and happiness.
After coming back home, I went back to work for three days. Three normal days until I woke up that one morning with blood trickling down my thigh. “Fuck, not again!” I woke up my young toddler, told him he needed to quickly get dressed and come with mommy to the doctor’s. We are going to check on baby this morning.
Same situation at 12 weeks gestational age. I should be safe here, right?
Another sonogram showed baby kicking away, learning how to swallow in utero, and just bouncing away in the amniotic sac. I should be happy. I should be so relieved. So why am I not? I can’t help but worry and the last thing I need is added stress, says the doctor. I am trying. And my wonderful, dear boyfriend is doing all of the lifting up he can so that I don’t need to stress. So why do I feel so down, still?
I feel flutters now. A movement made by baby called quickening is happening within me. I start to crack a little smile here and there. “Thank you for letting me know you’re safe, little one.” I am doing all that I can to make sure you stay healthy until 39 weeks when I can finally hold you in my arms.
13 week first trimester scan went beautifully. Somersaults, back flips, and swimmer’s kicks prove to me you are stronger than I am imagining.
But I’m still not out of the clear. Still spotting. Still cramping. Still stressing.
No one likes to talk about the scares and the tears … but they very much so exist, still.