For Part I, click here…And Then There Was Hayes-Part I

Life had returned to a somewhat normal state. As normal as it can be after experiencing losing a baby I knew I would never meet. After a couple of weeks, I began to accept what had happened. The shock subsided, the spontaneous crying spells were less frequent, some hope was coming back into my life. Eric and I decided to try again. We just wanted a baby so badly we knew we couldn’t just give up. We knew we would get pregnant again…and we did. I was much more cautious this time; not as quick to announce this baby. In my mind I thought that if I kept my pregnancy a secret, I was somehow protecting this little one. I was also protecting myself and others from uncomfortable situations. I didn’t want to have to answer those questions, “How are you feeling?” or “How far along are you now?”, and have to give the awkward reply of “I lost the baby…again.” I didn’t want that to happen so I kept it a secret.
As soon as I possibly could, I went to my doctor to have the first sonogram. It was a perfect visit. The heartbeat was strong and everything was right on target. It was such a relief, at least for that split second. I still felt twinges of fear every now and again if something didn’t feel right. The slightest pain or twitch would cause me to panic. I scoured online message boards reading about other women’s experience with miscarriages. I wanted to find that person that mirrored my experience and had a successful pregnancy after losing a baby. I wanted comfort in knowing that there was hope for me and that this pregnancy would be different. I read statistics charts that outlined the percentage chance of a miscarriage each day into a pregnancy. I looked at that chart every. single. day! I was obsessing over my situation. I had made it to 9.5 weeks and the chance of a miscarriage was less than 2%. Why was I torturing myself obessing over this? It was time to just let it go.
Right about that time that I decided to stop the worry, stop the obsessing, stop the searching, something didn’t feel right to me. I woke up one morning and just didn’t feel pregnant. It was really that simple. I just didn’t feel pregnant at all. No morning sickness. No soreness anywhere. Nothing. It was as if there was an internal switch that was just turned off. Everything, gone. When I woke up that morning, I just knew. I will never forget that feeling of dread. It rolled from the top of my head to the bottoms of my feet. It was a feeling that I never wanted to experience again but here I was, alone in my despair, a puddle of disbelief but with a heart full of certainty.
I called the doctor and made an appointment for another sonogram. The doctor asked the sonographer to fit me in right before her lunch break and I could see the frustration on her face as I walked into the room. Oh, that room. I still hate the smell of it , the look of it. The smell of the jelly they put on my tummy, the lights half dimmed, and that huge TV screen in front of me that was about to tell me the fate of my baby. That screen held so much power that day. It made my heart beat so quickly that I could hardly catch my breath. The sonographer let out a big, frustrated sigh and started looking for the heartbeat. I could hear her thoughts. She just wanted to take her lunch break while I so desperately wanted to see that little flutter on the screen. She searched and searched and searched…nothing. Another sweet baby gone.
I didn’t even react this time. I couldn’t cry. I was done crying. I knew that this could happen again and it did. I don’t even remember the drive home. I don’t remember much of that day at all. All I do know is that Eric and I grieved alone and quietly at home. We weren’t public about it this time because barely anyone even knew we were expecting again. I’m grateful for that and especially grateful that I didn’t tell my children. I didn’t want them to have to grieve again as well.
As my mind, again, came back to some normalcy, I knew we would try again. I knew we would get pregnant again. I prayed that the next time would be different…

Read Part III (coming next week) for the next chapter of our journey!
Until then…