If you did not know, October 15 is International Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I’ve felt awful I haven’t been keeping up with blogging, but I felt that I needed to start again today.
I haven’t been blogging because life happens. We’ve been having the remodel from hell since July 31. Everything else that could go wrong has, including losing a pregnancy.
We found out we were expecting the day after our sons 2nd birthday- near the middle of August. While we were at the state fair, we excitedly talked about how next year we’d have a 3 year old and a 4 month old. I even pulled out all my maternity clothes. I was so excited! We were dreaming about what being a family of 4 was going to be.
One month ago today, I went for what should have been my first prenatal visit. I should have been just over 8 weeks along. My periods had not been regular enough to get an exact due date and I had had some light spotting, so we did an ultrasound.
I had an ultrasound with my son at 9 weeks. He was just a little gummy bear -like thing, but had the shape of a baby. I was expecting to see a slightly smaller, gummier version of that, thinking any worries would be able to go away. I didn’t see a gummy baby. I saw a tiny spot. And no heart beat. The tech said it must have been too early. But I knew it wasn’t. My periods weren’t that irregular. Basically I could have had a variance of about 5 days for my due date. We weren’t talking weeks here. They said I probably had my dates wrong. I knew I didn’t. I knew when I ovulated.
I was supposed to go back to work. I got to my car. I just cried. I didn’t go back to work.
This week I would have been 12 weeks along – the standard for sharing your good news with the world. I had the perfect photo idea to post on Facebook – it was going to say “we’re adding another pumpkin to our patch!” Instead, I’m writing about how we’re not adding any pumpkins- at least not for now. I was going to buy one of those skeleton baby shirts you see all over Pinterest for Halloween. I was going to wear it for the Monster Dash and post pictures of “baby’s first half marathon!” But I’ll be running that race solo.
I never got to meet that sweet baby. But losing all those dreams and thoughts about our new life as a family of four is still painful.
1 in 4 pregnancies ends. I’m one of those.