October 2022 - "Baby B"
Though one would think I had learned my lesson about journaling the first time, I did not. That being said, I am writing this again with only the vivid memories that I'm still left with.
In October of 2022, my husband and I, now residing in a new state, found out we were pregnant for the second time. I didn't have some elaborate method of sharing the news with Sean this time (as the first didn't work out as I intended anyway). I shared the news with him, and we began the same exciting and nerve-wracking journey once more. After calling my doctor and setting up an appointment for our 9-week ultrasound, we figured out that I was currently 6 weeks along. My first thought was, "only three weeks until my appointment." I needed this appointment. I needed to hear the heartbeat and to know everything was going to work out this time.
As it would happen, my mom would be visiting me for Thanksgiving that year. So, we decided she would be the first to know because she could then join us for the ultrasound.
This was exciting, because it was our very first "reveal." Sean and I were thrilled with the timeline of this baby, because we could share with all of our family, in person, over the holiday season.
So, we decided to stick a "bun" in the oven. (A hamburger bun with sesame seeds, to be specific *wink*)
Looking at the photo above brings me great sorrow. I have never shared this picture, because there was no point. Knowing that it is now 2024, and that baby would have been due in 2023... Well, you obviously know the outcome. But here we go, anyway.
My mom was extremely excited for us--we even captured her reaction on video. Everything seemed perfect, from the first of our family reveals, to the timing of the ultrasound. I had done it! I had made it to my 9 week appointment. Knowing that I hadn't bled, and hadn't cramped, I was so certain there would be a heartbeat in there. I was so certain that Sean and I would be welcoming our first child in the new year (2023). I was so certain that the first miscarriage was just a fluke.
We walked into the doctor's office and the ultrasound technician entered. My mom and Sean were up front staring at the huge screen, and I was laying on my back, waiting to see my baby inside. As the technician moved the wand around a bit, she was quiet. But I knew, everything was fine because I hadn't bled. So, I waited.
Until finally, she said the words. "There doesn't seem to be a heartbeat."
I didn't believe her at first. I had done everything right; I had followed all of the rules (probably more than I needed to), I didn't have any cramping, my mom was even there with me. But then I asked again, "So what does that mean?" And she told me once more that we no longer had a viable baby inside.
In disbelief, we spoke with the doctor to discuss our options. As I had not miscarried on my own, we would wait only a bit longer to see if my body could do it on its own. When it did not, we returned to the doctor who then gave us some medication that was supposed to help me pass it. I took the medication which did make me cramp and bleed terribly. I assumed that was it, though I didn't see anything odd-looking like I had the first time. When I returned to the doctor again, they told me it had not worked.
The waiting game was miserable. A part of me believed that maybe the baby was still alive. After all, it hadn't left my body. Even the medication they gave me to help wasn't working. That being said, we had waited long enough and it was now time to take action. If a foreign body is in one's body too long, it can make that person really sick. Therefore, I didn't have any choice but to get a D & C.
I had the procedure done in December of 2022, and was crushed. This miscarriage had a much larger impact on my body and my mind than the first one had. It wasn't as easy to hide away, or push out of my mind. I had now lost two babies. So, something was obviously not working right.
It was time to seek out help.