Florence Penelope Davis
I can hardly describe that feeling you get as a woman when you see that your pregnancy test is positive. The only word I can use to describe it adequately is hope, pure and untamed hope. The hope swells up inside of you like a giant balloon ready to pop at any moment of excitement. At least, that’s how I felt.
The second feeling that hit me was utter terror…could I do this? Would I be a good mother? What would I do if I lost the baby?? What would I do if something was wrong with the baby??? Luckily…these feelings were much more tame than the excitement and hope, but they were still there deep down.
I was sick, so so so sick, miserable even…but it was all worth it knowing a little one was growing inside of me. At least I told myself that every time I was on the verge of puking.
And the planning—good grief all that planning. In my head I was dreaming up who this little human was, what his or her soul would be like..boy or girl? I researched the best products—carseats, baby wraps, strollers. We had it all picked out before I was even in my second trimester. Crazy right? That’s what hope can do..take over every aspect of your brain.
Then, that morning I will never in my life forget. Friday September 14 I had entered my second trimester and it was also the day I saw blood. This being my first pregnancy I lost it crying knowing there was something very wrong. Of course I called my mom and told her…she tried to calm me down she got me to talk to my cousin who has two children of her own and is a nurse. She talked to my cousins wife who works with an ob-gyn.
Everyone told me it was probably nothing, and that this was very normal for some women, but I knew..deep in my heart and soul I knew I’d lost the baby. I dealt with the pain and grief all weekend. My best friend and mom and sweet Cooper all trying to comfort me in my pain and keep my hope alive–but it was gone..the hope had disappeared.
Monday morning, my mom caught a last minute flight in to Tucson and took a taxi to meet us at the Dr’s office. She walked in right before the ultrasound. That next hour is a bit of a blur to me now…seeing the ultrasound and finding out we’d lost the baby. It was the confirmation of what I had assumed for three days. I’d cried all weekend, feeling as though I’d lost a piece of my heart.
I’m a Christian, I knew and I know that my baby girl is up in heaven. I know she is in a better place. People tried to continually tell me that—I know it was the only way they knew how to comfort me and I’m thankful but I remember in my mind being angry every time I heard it… I remember feeling attacked, like I didn’t know where she was. I know that isn’t how it was meant but that’s how I felt.
My heart won’t ever be the same. Part of my soul was given to that baby already and so part of my soul is already up in heaven.
After the blur of an appointment I had to go through some blood testing that day and two days later to make sure they could safely do the D&C Thursday.
All week after that I feel like I held it together pretty well, crying a little but not falling apart like I thought I would—honestly it was so surreal for me to experience. Then I went in for the surgery….
Those sweet nurses were the best, they brought me tissues and one let me cry on her shoulder for a good ten minutes. They brought Cooper and I bracelets that said, “We remember” and let me tell you something…to all you nurses and Dr.s out there, if you read this thank you for everything you do. These people that came in contact with me that day were such huge blessings for me.
After everything, sometimes I feel stronger because of it, but sometimes I feel more broken because of it. I assume it will be like that for a long time. Every time I think of our angel I’ll feel a little broken.
I wouldn’t wish it away though…I’m thankful for even those 13 weeks I had with our baby.
Some people wait to announce their pregnancy until the 12 week “safety” mark. I understand, I really do. The thing is, I’m glad I didn’t. I am glad I had that excited feeling with everyone for a while. I’m glad my baby didn’t exist to just Cooper and I. I’m glad I can share my story that SO many women relate to. I’d never ever ever take that back. I don’t judge women who wait and I’d love to not be judged for being open and not waiting. I hope all of you understand the sensitivity of this kind of situation, so if you don’t agree with sharing it I get it…but because of the sensitivity I hope you would be kind enough to keep the negativity to yourself because it’s the last thing anyone in my situation wants to hear. Overall, I had love and support after this happened but there of course was that one person who decided to give their unwanted opinion about how I should have kept it to myself. (The day of I might add…)
I needed to share my story. I needed to acknowledge the fact that there was a soul inside of me that didn’t get to make it out. I 100% believe in that baby girls existence because I 100% believe in God. If you feel differently than I do…that’s your choice…but you can keep it to yourself.
I love that little angel and I’ll never forget her.
By God’s grace I finished writing this post soon after I found out I am expecting a baby again. I appreciate prayers for this baby’s health. I am so hopeful for the future…because that’s all we can do right? Hope.
To all of you other women out there who have experienced something similar, feel free to email me at firstname.lastname@example.org I’d LOVE getting to connect with you.
Sending you all love and blessings.