When you start trying to conceive you get asked the same questions over and over and over and over. One of those questions is “Have you ever been pregnant before?”. My answer to that is, yes. And here is that story…..
Logan and I had been dating for about two years when I realized I hadn’t gotten a visit from lovely Aunt Flo for a little toooo long. We were not ready for this. We did not plan this. I FUCKING PANICKED. I went to the drug store and stocked up on pregnancy tests. The first one, positive. The second one, positive. The third one, positive. Now I was really freaking. How was I going to tell Logan this? We hadn’t even discussed having children! When Logan came home from work, I was curled up in the fetal position crying. Logan, being the wonderful, easy going man that he, is simply told me “It is going to be fine.”
As I mentioned in my previous blog, Logan and I were regular customers at our small town bar, so it didn’t take our friends long to figure out that something was up. I was 6 weeks pregnant when I found out and by 8 weeks most of our friends and family knew about it (mistake #1). We were very excited. I had a friend who was also got pregnant around that time and I was looking forward to our children growing up together. I was 10 weeks pregnant when I woke up on a Sunday morning and realized I was bleeding. That day is marked as the worst day of my life thus far. Logan was not home (probably out hunting or doing some very manly thing), so I called him to tell him. He was home within minutes and rushed me to the hospital. My mother and sister met me at the hospital and tried to assure me that everything was fine. But I knew, everything was not fine. After a terrible experience with a terrible doctor (that hospital visit could be a whole story on its own) we were told that there was no longer a heartbeat. How could this be? I had two ultrasounds prior to this. I heard that heartbeat. How could it just be gone?!? The look on Logan’s face is one I will never forget. That is the moment I knew, he truly loves me.
The next couple of weeks are a blur. Although the ER doctor told me that my miscarriage would “take care of itself naturally” after speaking with my doctor I decided to have a D&C. I don’t remember much of the actual procedure day, except sitting there and thinking “How is this my life? This stuff does not happen to me”. I will never forget the date, it was one month before my 29th birthday. I now had to go tell all my friends, family, and co workers that I was no longer pregnant. This was the hard part. Everyone was very kind and understanding. However, at that point all of the I’m sorrys and This must be God’s plans and I’ll be thinking of yous just sounded like “blah blah blah”. I was too angry and hurt to hear any of those things. My favorite was when I would tell someone and they would respond with a story; “my sister had a miscarriage once. It was no big deal. She was back to the gym in a couple days”. Well good for your fucking sister, that is not me. I am broken. I had plans for that baby, and now all those plans are gone. Yes, I only knew I was pregnant for a four weeks, but in those weeks I had prepared myself for the future. I was ready to change my life and become a mother. It is not a pain that goes away. I think of it many times a year but especially on March 25th, one month before my birthday.
I’m going to end by telling you something about myself that I forgot to put in the first blog.
I am a great freaking aunt, if I do say so myself. It is a blessing I am thankful for every day. I am an aunt to not only my niece and nephews but also to my friends’ children. However, I have always wanted to be a mother. I was put on this world, to be a mother. And god damnit, I will be a mother.