By the time this post has published, Chris and I will be heading to our second ultrasound for baby number 2. Yes, we have been hiding that I have fallen pregnant once again. I have always wanted to use the term ‘fallen pregnant’, just like they do in old movies. Before I go any further, this story has a very strong chance it’s not going to have a happy ending.
We found out earlier this month that I was expecting after a successful round of fertility treatments. We were immediately both grateful and overwhelmed. It took Chris a little longer to get ‘excited’ but he was scared and who can blame him?
As much as we tried to ‘not get attached’, we lost. I told myself I would not plan. I FAILED. I bought a onesie. And we nick named baby. We were goners within the first 24 hours.
Baby Miller #2 swept us off our feet and made us doe eyed and in love. We hadn’t/haven’t felt this much joy and hope since James, over 6 months ago.
We believe whole-heartily that this child is our rainbow baby. The beauty after the storm. However, I am afraid that today’s appointment will verify that the baby isn’t going to make it.
The First Ultrasound
The last time we had an ultrasound, I was staring at a very still, 18 week old baby boy and watching my ultrasound tech tear up. So we walked in last Wednesday for our first ultrasound cautiously but excited to be seeing the heartbeat and to confirm our due date for early May.
I knew something was immediately wrong when our ultrasound tech started to measure and zoom in on EVERYTHING. She was trying to find an answer, I could tell.
As Chris held my hand, I asked her “It’s not good is it?”
“Well maybe you are earlier than we think?”
I responded back with the date from my first positive blood work.
She quietly responded “Oh. I’m so sorry. I’ll get the doctor. I’m really sorry.”
We met with our doctor and we cried, again. Chris said grumpily, “I am really starting to hate this place.”
Our doctor explained the two things indicating our ‘not healthy pregnancy’ and that my chances of miscarrying were inevitable. We cried some more. But she did say that she always has hope for her parents. That there is a chance for a miracle and that it may correct itself as it has in a few cases.
She explained what would most likely happen. I would start to cramp and bleed, that I would need to call as soon as that happens. That if by our next appointment 7 days later (today), I hadn’t miscarried and no miracle had happened that she would schedule me for a D&C ( surgery to remove the baby). She prepared us by pre-ordering medicines, lab work and things that would aid this miscarriage.
Once we heard the news, I made up my mind immediately that if we do miscarry, I don’t want to share. I just can’t. We will tell only our few friends and family that know and that’s it. I can’t handle another public emotional roller coaster and I am tired of trying to make sense of something that is NORMAL.
Celebrating Every Pregnancy
Then our doctor did something that prompted me to write this post. She had my file with the ultrasound photos stabled to a form that she had been scribbling on. She asked us if we had copies of the ultrasound photos and I replied back through tears, ‘no what does it matter anymore’.
She ripped off the photo stapled to the paper, handed it to me and said ‘I believe every pregnancy and every baby should be celebrated.’
So before finding out the final destination of our child, here we are, celebrating this pregnancy and this baby. Probably, not in the way we wanted but “when life gives you the sourest lemon”…
After our appointment we went home and updated the few friends and family that knew of the not so great news. They were sad, some even crying but still keeping that small ounce of hope for us. It made me realize how thankful I am to have shared my pregnancy early with friends and family with the few we did, because if we hadn’t I am not sure we would know just how much our child was already loved. And that right there, is the kind of support that can get us through anything.
So is this hard sharing this news with the public? Yes, very. Am I concerned that people roll their eyes and say ‘here she goes again’? 100%. Am I worried what people will say? ALWAYS. Just because I am probably the most hilarious person you know doesn’t mean I have a lick confidence.
I am not special, broken or a rare case. Early miscarriages are normal, routine and often. Unfortunately. The news we got last week is very common and real life folks. And it sucks.
Whatever The Outcome
We made a commitment to our first born son. We vowed to use his beautiful story to help others in similar situations that want to be heard. And to us, that means we will be open about this potential early miscarriage in hopes it helps at least one person.
So, we have three outcomes after today’s appointment:
- Jumping for joy over a miracle.
- Extremely heartbroken.
- Or the dreaded ‘let’s wait another week and see’.
But whatever the outcome, we are celebrating this baby and this pregnancy. And whatever the outcome, we know we will be okay. We have mourned and we have prayed. We want what is best for the baby, not what we think is best for us.
We appreciate the support and we will share the news when we are ready.
Chris, Heather, James and Baby Miller #2