Today is kind of a special day. Not because it's an anniversary per say. It was the point in my first pregnancy when I found out that I wouldn't be taking a baby home. 10w5d.
It was that morning, August 5th, 2011, that I woke up so excited to be going to my first prenatal appointment. I was the first appointment of the morning and DH went with me. I was ecstatic that I had to pee as soon as I arrived. And excited that no one else was waiting. I would get to be called back first.
A few minutes passed and the nurse called us back. She started going on medical histories and then discussing different tests that we may or may not want. At the end, she handed me a bag filled with pamplets, and somehow it came up that I had been spotting brown for a few weeks. Her face changed and she went to speak with the doctor. She came back and ushered us to the u/s room because the doctor wanted to do an ultrasound to see what was going on.
It was at this point that DH started getting nervous that something was wrong. I was trying to stay positive and just kept looking up at the screen on the wall with my name on it. I kept saying "we're going to get to see George up there pretty soon."
Finally the doctor came in and the room was filled with silence.
I kept staring up at the screen waiting for something to appear. Finally, I saw a black area. But there was nothing inside of it. I didn't know what this meant, but finally the doctor said "there is a sac but it is empty. Maybe you aren't as far along as you think." Which I knew not to be true. It had been nearly 6 weeks since I got a BFP. There should've been something on the screen. Instead of him listening to me, he just said I was to go get blood drawn that day, then again on Monday, and we'd decide what to do from there.
We left the office in tears. Both of us. I went to get blood drawn even though I knew what the result was going to be.
I will never forget that day and all the days that followed. The extremely painful miscarriage that began 3 days later. The ER staff ignoring me and allowing me to practically bleed out in the bathroom. The cold ER doctor who pulled a trash can over to rid of the content that still clung to my cervix. And my OB that never even showed up, just told the ER staff that I wouldn't be needing a D&C. Then the eventual D&C a couple weeks later.
Most of all, I will never forget what it felt like to be a mom for those few short weeks. What it felt like to love someone that I had never met unconditionally. And what it felt like to lose the most precious gift I had ever been given.