Trigger warning, I'm having a miscarriage. Again. I'm not censoring. I need to talk, so read if you are ok with that. I understand if you aren't. Really, I do. The support I've felt has been the best. I have friends and family who love me and I'm so lucky for that.
Well, bad news. I'm in the lucky 2 to 5 percent of women who have 2 miscarriages in a row. Yaaaaay. Seriously though. What. The. Actual. FUCK. The miscarriage rate at 8 weeks (which is where my baby is measuring, not at 12 weeks like I should be) is like 5%, how am I that unlucky? Especially once you see a heartbeat you are supposed to be a lot safer, statistically. I haven't had a period since March. I have been pregnant and or actively miscarrying for 19 weeks, going on 20. That's half a freaking pregnancy, guys. I haven't even made it out of the first trimester. IF, that's a big if, we decide to go for it right away again and manage to get pregnant right away again, I won't have a baby until late May. That's more than a year from the the first time we found out we were pregnant.
And also, I'm not miscarrying yet. Nope. Just spotting. I just have the luxury of knowing my baby is dead before my body has figured it out. So I get to sit and wait and anticipate the carnage this time. So glad I can have the full experience. Or better yet, I may have to decide to get surgery. Like, getting my wisdom teeth out was one of the most horrible experiences ever. So I expect this would be worse. I can't even bring myself to research it. FUUUUUUCK. But yeah. Haven't miscarried yet. That may be brutal. I have no idea if and what testing we may do. I have an idea of what I may be in for in the next few days. I'm scared.
So Sunday afternoon (why the fuck is it always a Sunday?) I started spotting. My brother was still visiting so I told him and Travis because I couldn't hide it. I had a Friday midwife appointment scheduled but I was able to move it up to Monday because I was panicked. Monday came, my brother went home, my spotting continued.
I somehow made it to the appointment only texting a few friends beforehand. I tell you what, this experience makes you know who your true friends are. The ones who let me know right away they were there for me, after this, after the last time, after the last blog post, you know who you are and I will work to keep you all besties for life. Hold me to that.
I took Lyra to Reno (Travis went to work, we were trying not to panic because spotting can be so normal and the odds were in our favor, they really were) and we killed an hour and went to see the midwife. She spent a good 10 or 15 minutes looking for a heartbeat with 2 separate dopplers. Nothing. I knew. I knew when I started spotting. But I hoped. Oh, did I hope.
It took less than 3 hours between leaving the midwife's office and getting an emergency ultrasound. In that time I sent about 47 emergency texts to my close friends and family and immediate support network. A friend dropped everything and came to Reno to take care of Lyra. I can't thank her enough, it was an unbelievable relief to send Lyra off and know she was safe, loved, and having fun to boot. I am forever grateful for that. I will remember it forever and I will try and pass that love on some way, some how, some when. Travis ended up ditching work and rushing to Reno because he was no use at work after all the stress and drama. I sobbed through the In-N-Out drive through because I knew I had to eat and not pass out or something. Super fun and only mildly embarrasing.
So the ultrasound. Brutal. Transvaginal ultrasounds....They are just as terrible as they sound in general. You are just half naked and humiliated, best case scenario. Worst case is just worse. I knew right away. I couldn't see a heartbeat, I could tell it didn't look like 12 weeks. Lyra was moving and non blobby by 10 weeks. Travis didn't make it in time. I couldn't watch the whole thing. I just sat alone and stared at the lights and cried. I'm honestly glad I'm the only one who had to witness that, nobody needs to see that. Travis came in about 4 minutes after it was over. We ditched the jeep at the ultrasound place and Travis drove me home. We have to figure out the logistics later.
I made some phone calls and sent a few awful texts on the drive home. We got some wine and some ice cream. I'm not sure if I'm semi dairy allergic or not. But I decided today, who gives a fuck. I'm going to be miserable anyway, might as well go all in.
Small blessings though, that's always what I look for. This was over 4 weeks ago. A month ago my baby died. There is no ambiguity in my head. There's no slow heartbeat, there's no 1 week of slow growth that we can maybe recover from. It's over. Even to my untrained eye. We can grieve and move on, not spend weeks in hope limbo. My baby only knew happiness and hope and most of all, love. Never a moment of doubt. I have no regrets being so happy the last 9 weeks that I knew about this little one. No regrets. It's the one thing I know I did so right this time. Clearly there are no guarantees.
And that's how we will move on. Hope and happiness and love. I have no idea when we will try again. I have all the feels right now. I want a baby. I want a break. I don't know that I can make it through all the holidays not pregnant. I don't know that I can handle them pregnant. Know that next time though, I don't think I'll wait to share even to the first ultrasound. Everyone can share in the first ambiguous pee stick joy. Look forward to it.
