Sometimes I feel that life is meant to be a challenge. That the more obstacles you have to tackle, the stronger you are meant to be. Trust me, with the tough situations that have fallen in my lap in the last year, I believe it.
Honestly, I have been fighting battles for most of my life. Battles that left scars and wounds left open. But all of those were situations I overcame and yes that made me stronger. However, the latest situation has been the toughest and perhaps the hardest to begin speaking about openly. Miscarriage or rather miscarriages in my case. (If you thought it was my love life, that is mistaken. That is the strongest part of my life and has been since the day we met almost four years ago.)
My husband and I met by chance (or rather two friends that got together and introduced us). Meeting him is a novel all in itself. So easily one can find themselves soaked up in romance and unable to avoid such an aura. Trust me, when you find your soul mate, it is forever and amazingly easy.
Our wedding was a fairy tale wedding and our lives seemed to be a happily ever after. We were pregnant right away but then miscarried a week after we found out. The doctors kept saying to calm down because the numbers were still going up, but I knew in my heart it wasn't staying around.
Two months later we were pregnant again. I was a nervous wreck until we went to our eight week check up. The heart beat was strong and steady and then I saw the sonogram of the baby and knew everything would be all right. I didn't have any fears after that moment. Except for the occasional feeling that something wasn't quite right. It seemed too easy. I pushed that nagging feeling away believing I only felt that way because of the first miscarriage.
My twelve week appointment was on the last working day before winter break. I was so excited to see how big the baby had grown. I thought it was weird I hadn't gained any weight but I was teaching classes at the gym. Staying in shape was important. But I was careful and honestly didn't work out all that much since becoming pregnant.
I walked into the doctor's office and into the room, patiently waiting for my husband and the doctor to arrive. (Sometimes it's hard to get away from work in the afternoon!) Everything seemed great. He started up the machine so we could take a look and he had a hard time finding the baby. I knew then it wasn't good. I stared at the monitor praying for him to find the baby. When he found the baby it sat motionless and no bigger than the sonogram picture I kept in my purse. I silently begged for the heart to start beating believing that this cannot be. My husband had his arms around me as the tears rolled down my cheeks. A fog smothered me and no words could come.
I heard my doctor saying something about scheduling a DNC on Christmas Eve morning and all I could do was nod my head.
There's not much more that I need to say, except that it had taken a long time for me to stop blaming myself. Wondering what I did wrong. Wondering what I could have done differently. Blaming stress related issues and exercise for the loss. Blaming myself for not quitting working out. Blaming anything and everything but mainly myself.
I'm not sure how my husband was able to stay so close to me with all the sleepless nights or crying myself to sleep. There were times I was irritable when he left me alone and my wrath he faced was not like me at all. Every time he left me alone, I bawled and asked Why? My husband took to longer nights sleeping and didn't say those wonderful words (I want to have a baby with you) to me anymore. He didn't touch me the same (madly in love went to tender loving/sorry for your loss) or look at me the same (with that are you okay? look in his eyes.) Or maybe I just invented that because I needed to blame someone or something for our loss.
It can be really tough and a huge strain on a marriage. Trust me, I went through many emotions. But because he is such a wonderful man, he stood by me and held me every moment he could. He even held me when I growled and told him to leave me alone, when what I really wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms.
This story doesn't have a happy ending as far as a child being born. We have miscarried twice since (making four times in one year) but that one was the hardest to recover from.
If truth be told, I am the happiest ever because of his undying love for me. Our romance has grown strong again but our bond is tighter than it ever has been. We are still inseparable and have that glow (according to his dad) that shows just how in love we are. That's really all that matters, right? True love and devotion to one another? I believe so. I know we are forever even if a child between us isn't possible.
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