Pregnancy After Loss: The First 12 Weeks.

I think I took like 6 pregnancy tests that first day. I remember I had a heavy case of water I wanted to bring into my classroom... No way was I lifting that. Instead of excitement, I felt a feeling of pure fear. I can't go through it again. My heart really couldn't handle it.

This time I waited longer to tell people. I remember after I lost the baby, someone who didn't know the pregnancy ended, congratulated me... And I lost it. I was at my sister in laws wedding shower and we were standing in a circle with a group of women. "Congrats on your big news!" My face probably turned white and I remember I couldn't swallow. My sister in law just kept saying, "no, no, no..." I could tell by the look on the girl's face that she was mortified. I wasn't sure who was more upset, her or me. I smiled and tried to play it off followed by a mad dash to the bathroom as a tear filled mess. Makeup streaming down my face. I had to completely reapply my face. I had to put my mask back on and pull it together. It had only been a few weeks since it happened. This was the first time I was seeing all of my husband's family members. They all knew. It was hard.

(Fast forward 6 months and a new positive test)
 I just wanted to move on so bad... I wanted a baby so bad... I got what I asked for, I was pregnant again... But now I felt like I had put myself right back into the one position I couldn't bare to be in again. I am extremely close to my family and this is the longest I have ever kept something from them. I waited about 2 weeks or 3638849493 pregnancy tests and one doctor visit to tell them. I waited until Thanksgiving and I was scared as hell. I cried on the way to my parents and his parents. I sat on the floor with my puppy and sobbed. 

 "You should be happy!" Everyone would say. I got pregnant 6 months after my miscarriage. While I should have been thrilled, I was the complete opposite. I struggled with feelings of guilt. I was still attached to the first pregnancy. All the "shoulda, coulda, wouldas" constantly haunting me. On Thanksgiving and Christmas I bawled. "I should have a baby in my arms right now." I couldn't breathe at times. "But you are pregnant. You are going to have a baby," my mom said to me.  "But I wanted that baby," my weepy response referring to my first pregnancy. I was still grieving that loss.

When I felt excitement towards my new pregnancy I also felt so much guilt. How could I be happy when my little baby's heart stopped? And when I realized I should be more excited about this baby and wasn't, I would feel even more guilt. It was this constant struggle between feeling guilty about being happy and feeling guilty about being sad. There was also major anxiety. I was constantly worried. I must have spent days worth of hours googling the most bizarre things. Every single twitch, pull, and stretch I felt, I immediately thought the worst. It was pure torture.

I decided the best way to protect myself from being broken further was to not become attached to the new pregnancy. I would tell myself it wasn't going to last. I convinced myself that this too would end the same way as the first. It sounds terrible, but I did not ever think I would meet this baby. I was not going to be 100% in until I was holding the baby in my arms. 

I was bloating fast. By 8 weeks my jeans were no longer buttoning. I was using the ol' hair tie around the button through the hole hack. It was time for me to pull out the maternity box that my mom hid from me. I cried as I pulled out each piece of clothing that dressed my first small bloated tummy. I held the black pants I wore the most and sobbed. I didn't want to wear them yet. I wasn't emotionally ready.

The fertility clinic was kind enough to monitor my first weeks. They put me on progesterone which in itself made me feel a little better about everything. I remember my first ultrasound was very early on, I walked in and sat on the examination table and just bawled my eyes out. I am sure they were used to seeing depressed and desperate women often. The tech was so sweet. She shared her own loss and how she now had a 2 kids, she said it was ok for me to be nervous but that I should be "cautiously optimistic," I felt a little better. With tear filled eyes, I saw my baby on the screen for the first time. It was tiny, my heart skipped a beat... I cried again... but I kept saying, "Don't feel anything for this one yet." Every week I would go in for an ultrasound and HCG level test and then straight to work after. I had to wait for the call with the results and teach in the meantime. It was a call that would either keep me going or completely shatter me. When I would see the number of the clinic show up on my caller ID, I would feel sick, literally. I always braced myself for the, "I am so sorry but..." Thankfully, that didn't happen.

Every morning I would cry because I wasn't sure if this would be the last day I would be pregnant. At night when I went to bed, I begged for my baby to still be ok. The more I saw the baby on the screen, the more I was starting to become attached, and then I would tell myself, not yet. On the night before my 12 week appointment, I didn't sleep. Not even for a minute. I laid in bed wide awake reading stories of other women's 12 week appointments, good and bad. I looked up statistics of chances of miscarriage. I looked on amazon for my own home Doppler. I may or may not have ordered myself a pair of shoes... but I definitely didn't sleep.

My 12 week appointment was with my regular doctor first. This was the same appointment that ruined my life 6 months prior. I was heading back into the same situation that literally crushed my dreams. I remember I took that day off of work just in case. When the doctor walked in I immediately started crying. I have had this doctor since high school. She saw the anguish in my eyes. She put the Doppler away and took us straight to the ultrasound room. It was the same tech. Instantly I thought I was going to throw up, I thought I would maybe pass out and fall off the exam table, I was shaking and crying. My mouth was dry and my teeth hurt so bad from grinding them out of nervousness. I kept looking at the techs face, waiting for the same face I saw before. Surely she would shake her head "no" any minute and I would maybe die. She didn't. I heard the most beautiful sound ever and my heart exploded. For the first time in almost 3 months I cried happy tears.