Coping With Miscarriage of Son

I lost my baby on May 19, 2008. I was 8.5 weeks along. I first found out I was pregnant just one month before that. I never thought I could get pregnant so really we just never "tried." When I saw the positive result on the test, I cried. My husband was so excited that he told everyone he could.

At about 7.5 weeks I began to bleed and have cramping. I knew something was not right and everyone around me told me that I was just fine and not to worry - everyone except my mother who miscarried twice before she had four children. My doctor was out of town so I went to the on-call doctor at the hospital.

They did an ultrasound and there my baby was - tiny and with a heart beat! My mom cried, and my husband jumped for joy at the sound. Then the doctor had a pale look about him, and my mom asked him what was wrong. He said that according to his calculations my baby was too small and was not attached right and was too low to possibly survive. He told me to go home and rest for a week and that most likely I would lose the baby.

I was devastated! I went home and laid on the couch. My husband did everything he could to help me. After day four, everyone said since I had not lost it I was going to be fine. That night I fell asleep and had a dream that God had told me that he needed the baby and that I would have another one soon. Then a giant spider (which I am scared to death of) came out of the wall, hovered over me, and then dissapeared.

I woke up with sweat pouring out of me and my husband just laid there while I went back to sleep. He said I kept telling someone "not to do this to me" in my sleep. I had a sharp pain in my back and it would not go away. The next day nothing happened - I was just fine. No bleeding, no cramps, nothing. The following day, I went to work. (Five days of no work makes for a lot of catching up.)

At noon I started to bleed, and by 3 p.m. on the 19th my sister picked me up and took me to her house. I lost the baby at 5 p.m. The doctor told me to keep everything, but I could not get myself to do it. I did measure the baby for him, and it should have been the size of a large grape to small plum. The sac was no bigger than a pea.

My whole family cried for me as did my husband - he was devastated. This was something he feared most, and yet there was nothing he could do during the loss to help me. I choose not to go to the hospital, as I have lived for the last 12 years with horrible cramps. I knew I could make it through this too. My sister sat by me and kept a cold rag on my head while my other sister rubbed my back. (My oldest sister had just given birth five months before I got pregnant, and the other two were due in three months. So we would all have given birth within a 14-month-time frame, something we all were excited about. Two of us having our first child.

My husband and my father handled most of the family and friends when the asked how I was doing. I felt the sooner some of the close family knew the less "congratulations" and the "how's the pregnant girl doing" I would have to face. I shut the phones off and took a week off work and kept to myself. I did not want to explain anything or my feelings to anyone.

Many of our friends kept it to themselves and said a prayer. They didn't talk to me about it unless I opened up. However, one of my husband's friends and his wife were the opposite. It had been three days since I lost the baby, and they came to my house to "see how I was doing." Then it hit me that they specifically came over to let us know that they were pregant. She wanted me to be the first to know - that way I would understand that life goes on. Then she offered me her fertility monitor in case we wanted to "try again."

I was horrified that someone would do that to me. I hope her baby is fine, but I did not in any way need to be the first person she told. It's people like her that make people like me hold feelings inside. I didn't need a fertility monitor. Wasn't it obvious that I got pregnant?

My mom's friend gave me some books to read that helped her. I talked to my sister's friend who has also lost a baby. I am slowly working on it and sometimes (like now) I cry. I cry when my sisters talk about giving birth. I cry when I get mad at myself for wishing it was me about to give birth. And often I cry because I just need to. My husband took the ultrasound pictures that were taken of Junior. and had them framed for me.

The picture frame now hangs on our wall by the family pictures and right next to our wedding picture. You see, to some it was not yet a living baby, but to me I heard the heart beat and I saw how tiny and precious he was. We call him our son, as that was what the wonderful doctor said he thought it would be. And since my husband kissed my belly each night and said "See you soon, Junior," it only seemed right.