My nerves are shot.
I’m still shaking from the meds I took, even though I know there’s no way they kicked in yet.
But I know it’s coming.
And I have no idea what to expect.
I’ve never had anyone close to me die before. I’ve certainly never had anyone die in me before, either.
It was weird. Sitting in my car outside of the ultrasound office. Crying and staring out the windshield as life continued on as normal for everyone else.
People walked by. Holding hands. Laughing. Looking at long strips of sonogram pictures. Hugging each other. Kissing good-bye. Driving away. Everything kept going.
There wasn’t even a pause.
And now I’m sitting up in my bed. Tucked in next to two brown medicine bottles.
The doctor gave me three options. 1) Wait for nature to take its course. 2) Take some meds to give nature a kick-start and then some Tylenol with codeine to help when nature took over. 3) A D&C (an outpatient surgical procedure where the doctor scrapes out the uterus. It requires anesthesia).
I picked option 2 and took the first dose at 7pm.
Normally I’m the kind of girl who prefers to have things taken care of in a hospital. But this time I wanted to be at home where it was warm and quiet and dark. Where I could keep the windows open and hide under the soft, flannel sheets. Lots of blankets and pillows.
The doctor told me to take a Tylenol 3 along with the first dose of meds. She said it would help me sleep because I’d never fall asleep on my own. She was right. I took the damn thing three hours ago and I’m barely drowsy.
I’m too nervous.
I’m scared about what this will feel like.
I’m sad that my baby is dead.
And I’m broken that I’ll have to flush it down the toilet.
* * *
The bleeding started at 6:00am. Very steady. It felt similar to the day after giving birth. Crampy. Kinda like wetting yourself. All the kegels in the world won’t help you control it. I took the second dose of the meds, another Tylenol 3 and curled up next to my husband. He rolled over, held me and asked if he could get me anything. I said no.
I started to shake again.
And then I heard the duck quack.
TWO has a big, fluffy pink duck puppet in her crib. She loves it. I mean, she can’t use it correctly, but just the sight of it makes her smile. If you put your hands inside the beak to open and close it, it quacks “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” and a few other songs. I don’t remember the other ones because we never get that far in the rotation. Anyway, she likes to squeeze the beak together from the outside because it’s the only way she can get the duck to quack. Which she just happened to do while I lay there, immobilized by emotions. The sound of it made me smile and helped me fall back to sleep.
* * *
I woke up again at 9am. Another round of bleeding. Went downstairs and had pancakes with ONE. We made a necklace for her friend. ONE was super excited. She was spending the day with a friend from her old school whom she missed very much. Plus, she didn’t have to take a nap while she was there. This was going to be a good day.
She went to “Depot” with her Daddy first to help him pick out flowers for the front walk. The last time we went to Home Depot she got it in her head that it was Disney World. I told her that it definitely was not, but she refused to believe me. Oh well, at least she can’t say that we never took her there.
They came back with several flats of purple pansies and no Disney Princess sightings.
More bleeding. Slight cramping, but no real pain. Maybe because of the codeine. Either way, no complaints.
TWO woke up from her nap around 10, right before my husband left to take ONE to her friend’s house. He offered to take them both, but I kept TWO with me. I’m glad I did. She spent most of her time climbing in and out of my lap. She stood up at one point, put her arms around my neck and gave me a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on the cheek. I’ve seen her kiss my husband and ONE before. But this was the first time she kissed me.
It was worth the wait.
My husband returned and took over with TWO.
The bleeding got bad and tissue was expelled. I took another Tylenol 3 and fell asleep watching Sex and The City. I haven’t fallen asleep in the middle of the day watching TV since I was pregnant with ONE. It was nice.
* * *
I woke up around 2pm. I actually felt pretty good. Kind of like when you spend the morning feeling hung over and then wake up from a nap and feel normal.
I had some lunch. Watched my husband work in the yard. The purple flowers glowed in the turned dirt.
We took TWO and the dog for a walk. The sky was perfect blue. I was pale as a cloud. But the air felt so nice on my face. It was chilly enough for me to wear a sweatshirt…but that might have been because of all of the blood I’d lost. It’s hard to tell.
And then I felt it.
I felt it drop.
I rushed into the house and sat on the toilet.
There it was.
It didn’t look like an actual baby or anything. It was just a ball of flesh-colored tissue, about half the size of an egg.
I sat there for a while and stared.
And then cried.
And then let it wash away.
I won’t pretend that I understand why God does what He does. I have no idea why He chose only to let us have this baby for a few weeks. I have accepted that I will probably go through the rest of my life never knowing why. And that’s okay. It has to be. I have seen Him work in too many areas of my own life, and in the lives of those around me for me to ever doubt Him. I don’t get Him all the time. But that makes sense. I am limited where He is infinite.
By nature I am an introvert. I have a tendency to completely (and comfortably) withdrawal. I was unable to do that during this time due to the outpouring of support that came at me from every angle.
While I was (and am still) sad, it was impossible for me to feel sorry for myself with so many people lifting me up in their thoughts and prayers.
I am in one piece because of you guys.
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