Where I've Been

It's no secret that June and July were super busy for us. The first and biggest event was the cruise through Alaska that had us gone for 12 days. The very next weekend I had a 2-day bachelorette party. The next weekend was the 4th of July. The next weekend was the wedding. The next weekend was spent getting ready for the 4H fair. After that, things were supposed to get easier. Life was supposed to slow down and be less hectic. And it started too. We went camping the last weekend of July,  just the 3 of us, plus Diesel. We lounged as a family, went swimming at my moms, played on the playground, made smores and just spent time together.

And the entire weekend I kept doing stupid things and felt sick. Danny and I knew what was coming and sure enough it did. That following Monday, I had positive pregnancy test. A completely unplanned pregnancy test that was welcomed with open arms.

A week went by and the sickness kept coming in waves. We decided to tell our parents the next weekend due to Danny's mom getting asked to watch another child. We told our parents, then celebrated our anniversary the same night. That weekend I experienced some bleeding. Nothing major and nothing more than what I experienced with my first pregnancy. When it didn't let up, I decided to call the doctor and to see what was going on.

She ordered blood work to get done on Monday, results would be in Tuesday and then I'd go in for an ultrasound Thursday. Results indicated my progesterone was low, so she called in a prescription for that and we would know more Thursday. We had an ultrasound Thursday morning, the day after our 4th wedding anniversary, and got the news I just had a feeling we would get. The nurse asked if I felt pregnant still and my honest answer was no. I didn't feel sick anymore and my boobs quit hurting. I was still making silly mistakes, but that was because I was worried. She told us she would be open and honest about what she saw during the ultrasound. Which was something, but it wasn't a baby.

The doctor explained to us that what needed to happen didn't look like it was going to happen. She was about 99% sure I was going to have a miscarriage and explained our options, but wanted to wait another week to be sure. So, for another week, I just acted like I was pregnant. We told our parents the news and that there probably wasn't going to be another baby, but I still did everything a pregnant woman should do to have a healthy pregnancy. I took my vitamins, I didn't drink coffee and I took evening walks. I even felt sick like a pregnant woman should and the bleeding stopped. I was in the middle of a sick mind game. Thursday and Friday, and even some of Saturday, was spent lost in a Desperate Housewives marathon to distract myself.

We went back the next Thursday. No progress was made and the surgery was scheduled for following Monday. I didn't want to go through the miscarriage naturally. It could have taken days, or weeks. I had already waited a week and that was hard enough. I don't do well with waiting. Again, another Thursday and Friday spent lost in a Desperate Housewives marathon.

The surgery was physically easy. Before was tough mentally and emotionally, but thanks to the drugs I was okay after. But it was a pretty shitty start to a birthday week.

I am finally to the point where I feel like I can get back into the swing of things. I just didn't feel like doing anything more than what I had too. Our house got dirty, meals were a lot of take out, laundry piled up and taking care of Tucker was about the most I ever did. Work was a joke, which is to be expected when you only work 2.5 days a week 3 weeks in a row.

But, things are getting better. I still think about what life would be like if I were still pregnant. I expect March to be a difficult month since that is when the baby would have been born.

So, that is where I have been. I wasn't sure I was going to share this on the blog, but not sharing it felt like I was acting like it didn't happen. And I didn't want to do that. It happened. And it happens to a lot of people and you just don't know that it happens. You feel like you're alone and you shouldn't. Once you share your story, you soon learn that you know more women that you think that have had a miscarriage. At least that's how it happened for me.