So here it goes...

I recently had a miscarriage. I found out I was pregnant in September. I was ecstatic! Never did the "M" word enter my mind. I started to feel horribly sick (a good sign right?). I had some really tough days where it was difficult to take care of my little boy let alone myself. I remember thinking oh i just want to feel normal again, no sickness! Now all I can think of is how I miss that sick feeling and if it would only come back I would feel normal again. Funny and cruel how the mind works.

We went in for our ultrasound at what I thought would be 9 weeks. I expected to see a little heart thumping away and a little bean jumping around. The look on the ultrasound technician's face said otherwise. "Can you see my baby?" ..... "I'm not allowed to say anything about what I see until I show the Doctor," she replied. My stomach sank. I knew by her tone that it wasn't good. She brought in the doctor, my husband, and son. My suspicion was confirmed, she explained that there was no heartbeat and that the baby died somewhere around 6 weeks but that the sac was still growing. I don't remember much else. I felt like someone had just crushed my family dreams. Why did this happen? Why did my body betray me. I had already carried a perfectly healthy baby to term. He was there smiling and driving his matchbox car on his daddy's shoulder.

I cried.

Then I tried to act normal. But I was still carrying around his baby. My dead baby. I had two more appointments that confirmed what we had seen at the first appointment. I was given cytotec to induce the miscarriage since my body was not starting the process. I didn't take it. A few days later on the 3rd of November I started to spot. "Ok God let's get this over with. Help my body to do this so I can move on." The contractions were strong, kind of like labor but not quite as painful. I still curled into a ball with every contraction and reminded myself to breathe. Then I started to bleed. Heavily. After an hour or so I started to think that this couldn't be normal. This isn't right. My husband asked if I needed to go to the ER. I waited a little longer and then as I stood up I started to feel light headed. "I think I we should go," I said. "This doesn't feel normal."

We arrived at the hospital somewhere between 10:30 and 11 pm. I sat down and they took my vitals. They told me I had to wait for a bed. I got up to use the restroom. I could tell I was bleeding through my jeans. I started to fall to the ground and black out. Nurses picked me up and rushed me to a bed. An IV was started and I started to feel better. I felt as if I was watching a movie of someone else's life. Not mine. I tried to act normal since my husband and my son were in the room with me. I didn't want my husband to be upset. The Dr. came in and explained that bleeding was normal for a miscarriage and a few more non comforting words. I was not reassured. I was passing large clots of blood and still contracting hard. After she examined me they forgot to hook me back up to the blood pressure machine for 2- 3 hours. They were going to check my hemoglobin and give me a rhogam shot and then dismiss me. The Dr. came in to check on my and noticed my blood pressure was not being monitored. She hooked it up and it showed 70/30. "That's not good. We can't send you home with that kind of blood pressure." She was angry with the nurse that was supposed to be monitoring me. Mind you, no one was checking on my bleeding. I was using my child's diapers instead of their pads because it was better contained in them. The doctor left to go call the Obgyn doctor.

I broke down.

I started to cry. Not only did I have to deal with the emotional aspect of losing a child, but I had to deal with this horrible physical part of it too.

I stopped crying, the new doctor came in and explained that I needed a D&C. They would get all the blood and tissue out of me so that my body would stop contracting and purging blood. Everything happened quickly after that. I was put under anesthesia, rolled into the surgery room, and the last thing I remember was talking about polar bears and strawberry rivers (the most enjoyable part of my hospital experience). I was also given a blood transfusion.

It has been a week since my miscarriage. I still don't feel 100%. I feel weak. I feel sad. I think it will take me a while to sort through these emotions. I know this happens to a lot of women. I know that they get through it and that they go on to have healthy pregnancies and babies. I want others to know that they aren't alone if this has happened to you.

I think the one good thing to come out of this is my strengthened faith in God.

I had a dream about my baby two nights after being in the hospital. I gave birth to my baby boy. He looked similar to Sammy but with lighter hair. They told me he was only 5 lbs. He was smiley. I got to hold him and nurse him. It was so real and peaceful. I also dreamt of my grandparents that same night and I was left with the feeling that they were all together in heaven.

Maybe God put me through this experience to let me know that He really exists. That He really is in control. And there are things that are going to happen in life that I may not understand, but I need to trust and know that it is His plan that is going to prevail. I have doubted from time to time, but I won't doubt ever again. I came across this verse a few days ago which really struck a chord in my heart.

"Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails."

~Proverbs 19:21