One Year Ago

It was a Sunday night, around 6:45 pm. My two friends and I had all had bad weeks. Whether that be because of fights with parents or getting in trouble at school, we were ready to escape the drama. So we decided to go see “The Guardians – Owls of GaHoole”. It was going to be a night full of popcorn, silly cartoons, and relaxation, after a hard week for all of us. But really, how often do things go the way they're supposed to go?
Of course, the way all good stories go, this one has some foreshadowing. I thought Clarissa was 18, and she wasn't quite yet.When I discovered I was disobeying my parents as well as breaking my provisional, I got a little nervous. I remember saying, “We just can't get pulled over. It'll be okay. We're almost there anyway.” As we pulled up to to a red light next to a cop, I got nervous again. I asked, “Is everyone's seatbelt on? There's a cop.” So we all fixed our seat belts and impatiently waited for the red light to turn, to escape the cop's eyes.
The light turned green. Listening to “Like a G6”, I turned from the New Seward onto 36th. I didn't make the turn before Liz gasped. “Destinee, Oh my God!” I looked at what she was looking at, directly out her window. A huge black F250 speeding towards my little red Ford Escort.
Doing some quick thinking, I realized there was nothing I could do to avoid being hit. Liz tried to grab my steering wheel, but that was turning us closer to the other vehicle. In the heat of the moment, I slapped her and slammed on my breaks, right as this black monster rammed into my car. We spun in circles towards the other side of the road, almost hitting a pole, while all the windows shattered in on us.
When my car finally screeched to a halt, I started screaming. I was sure something had impaled my chest, it hurt so bad. It took a moment, but I realized the wind was just knocked out of me from my airbag. I thought for a moment, while still screaming. I was responsible for two other girls at this point. Were they okay? I looked to my right, at Liz, sobbing. “She's hurt, but she's okay,” I remember thinking. Looking in my back seat at Clarissa is when I really got scared. Her head was flopped down, her chin to her chest. I started sobbing, so sure she was dead on impact. Suddenly her head lifted up, and she said something. Immediately I felt so blessed. No matter what, we had all made it, and that seemed to be a feat in itself.
A few seconds later, it seemed everyone and their mother was running to the windows of my car. “I called the police!” echoed through my ears. Someone said to me, “Sweetheart, you need to get out of the car.” Realizing we were all probably a little hurt, I remembered something my Mom had taught me. “But you're not supposed to get out of the car after an accident!”, I said. They reassured me that they knew, but that my car looked as if it was about to catch on fire. That was enough for me, and we were out of the car, with Liz having to be pulled out of the window because of how smashed in her side was.
Right here, I have a pretty level head. I realize I need to call my Mom, so I do. I clearly tell her that my car is totaled, that Liz and Clarissa are in the car with me, and that I'm on New Seward and 36th. That she needs to come now. I start to look over the girls, making sure they're safe. They both have blood on them, and are crying. I know the cops are on the way, so I try to get them to sit down next to me. A man came up to us and told us to sit down. “You're bleeding.” I looked down at my hands, blood splattered on them. Then realized there was a dull ache in my left knee. He lifted up my pant leg to check it out, and I saw my knee cap exposed. My level head went right out the window, and I started screaming. “I don't want to see it! I don't want to see it!” I cried. “She doesn't want to see it, pull her pant leg down!” Liz yelled at the man. I panicked, and called my Mom sobbing. “There's blood! Blood is everywhere! I'm covered in blood!” The paramedics showed up, taking the phone out of my hands. Reassuring my poor parents that I was alright and that they were taking all precautions necessary. They begin strapping us all to stretchers. And that was when all the parents showed up.
“Liz! Liz! Liz!”, I heard Liz's mom sob. “Where is she?!” Laying on the stretcher, I remember pointing vaguely to my right.
The rest is just a lumpy blur of a night. My Mom holding my hand. The paramedics cutting open my pants, and me screaming. The ambulances driving us to the hospital; me getting stitches and medicine for an infection already starting in my knee. A million phone calls because Liz had sent out a mass text informing people we were in an accident, but not that we were okay. My best friends showing up to the hospital, shaken up. The cop coming to see me and telling me I turned on a red arrow but green light. That if I hadn't slammed on the breaks, Liz would have died. That we were unbelievably close and so, so lucky. Talking my way out of a ticket. Going home, sobbing.
We were all okay. Liz had a slight concussion and torn ligaments in her knee, Clarissa has a scar from her seatbelt. My knee was trashed. We all hurt, but it wasn't nearly what it could have been, should have been. That was unbelievable to me.
Being so close to losing my friends, and possibly my own life, really changed me as a person. Driving is no longer leisurely for me,. I didn't drive for 6 months after the accident, and now I'm constantly panicking and always watching. I became a little more serious, a little more grown up. I valued the little things more. I am so grateful for those two little inch miracles, and I watch for them every day.

My Maybe Baby.

"You may get through it, but you will never get over it."

I have been struggling with the decision to write about this, but I need to get it out somehow. It's time for me to write it out, and maybe that will finally help me get over it. Maybe I will be able to not think about it for a day or two. This post has been sitting for 4 months, and maybe once every week or two I'll add something more. Delete something out. Try to explain how I feel, but I don't know how to. So I'm sorry if it's jumbled and sucks, but it's what I've got and I'm going with it.

The Friday before graduation I was hanging out with my boyfriend. Laying in bed together. Whispering sweet nothings and saying I love you's. I got up, fully clothed, to see blood on the bed where I was laying. This type of thing had been happening for a while. I chalked it up to just being a really weird period. However, I had been bleeding for over two weeks. So, Matt told me I needed to call and make a doctors appointment.

I called and scheduled an appointment for one week later, the following Friday. The receptionist asked what I was coming in for, and when I explained she put me on hold. Next thing I know, I'm talking to a case manager who's telling me I need to come in today. That maybe I should be in the E.R. To come in right now. She uses other scary words, too. "Chlamydia... Gonorrhea... Cervical Infection..."

I didn't want to go in, at all. I felt like this was being blown out of proportion. Matt decided to come with me, and we drove right to the hospital. I told him I wanted to go back alone, so he stayed in the waiting room. I explained what was going on to the nurse and she had me do a urine test and a swab test. Then the doctor came in and I explained one more time.

"Is there any chance you could be pregnant?"
"No, not really. I mean, I'm having a period. So no."
"Well, you did test positive for pregnancy today....."
(She continues to talk but I don't remember what was said)
"I'm sorry, I'm not listening to anything you're saying right now."
"Your boyfriend is here, right?"
"Yeah, he's in the waiting room."
"Would you like me to go get him?"
"Yes please."

Matt and I have been dating for not quite three months at this point. Pregnancy is not something either of us were hoping for, and I'm terrified of what he's going to say. I don't think I can tell him, but he knows right away. He guesses. He sits down and holds my hand, while the doctor explains that the bleeding probably isn't a good sign, but that we need to do a blood draw to see how far along the potential pregnancy is. She leaves, and Matt and I are now alone. I can't stop laughing, not because it's funny, but because I'm scared shitless. Matt is SO. CALM. Holding my hand, telling me we'll be all right. I'm pacing. Trying to call one of the girls. No one's answering. Finally I get ahold of Rachel, and she's on the way. And then Alison too.

And then we're all in the room together, wondering what this means. And then they're drawing my blood. And then we wait, and talk, for an hour. And then the nurse comes in and hands me an appointment for an ultrasound, and tells me my HCG level is 171. Low, but there.

We all leave but the doctor calls me back on my own to talk to me about...it. About getting it taken care of. She gives me some phone numbers of financing places and such. I never really told anyone because I wasn't 100% sure, but in that moment, I wanted it out. Gone. I didn't want to deal with it.

We all go to Red Robin and Matt is still SO CALM AND IT'S KILLING ME. I want to freak out, but I want to freak out together. We talk about the potential baby and the girls just assume if it's a real pregnancy I'll keep it. They just assume that in maybe 8-9 months, I'll have a kid. That does not sound appetizing to me, and I'm freaking out.

The next night I'm bleeding a lot. I'm sitting on the toilet and blood is just falling out of me, and I'm sure I'm miscarrying. But something doesn't feel right, and so I call my sister who has me come over. She says something doesn't look right, so we go to the Emergency Room. Everything's okay, but I'm miscarrying. 113. Suddenly, it all did matter, and I'm sad about it.

I call Matt and we spend Monday in bed together, talking. I had had another appointment that morning to make sure I was miscarrying normally, and was waiting for a phone call to make sure. While laying in bed, I got the call. Still somehow, somewhere, pregnant. 196. I'm terrified, because these “ups and downs aren't normal.” I'm graduating today.

Another appointment on Wednesday. 326. “Not doubling the way it should.” “Not a healthy pregnancy.” “Medicated abortion necessary, today if possible.” No. Not today, I can't make a decision that fast. Tomorrow morning? “This could be a serious condition, it looks like a tubal pregnancy.”

Another day spent in bed with Matt, him holding me, me sobbing. “I wanted it. I wanted it. I would have kept the baby.” My heart broke in a way I cannot even describe, and finally I decided I wouldn't do it. I would wait it out, because I couldn't imagine dealing with having done that every day for the rest of my life. Matt stood by my decision. We talk about names, and what we'll tell our parents, and what we're going to do if this ends up being real, even though we know there's no real chance.

I see a specialist who doesn't know what's going on. He can't explain it, except for a tubal pregnancy. I go in every 2 days, and the numbers are rising extremely slow. My heart breaks more for the baby I know won't be mine.

Eventually the numbers start to drop. Slowly. Not fast enough, and I'm still bleeding. But they give me the okay to go to Hawaii, because now we know I'm miscarrying. I go to Hawaii for ten days and am bleeding the whole time, which puts my bleeding at 6 weeks.

I get home and we start to plan a D&C. It's planned, when finally I stop bleeding, making the surgery unneccesary. It's all over, but for some reason this pregnancy being over hurts more than anything.

Having a baby wasn't and isn't part of my plan right now. It would suck. But every day, thinking back about the 4 weeks when I thought about being a mother breaks my heart. It hurts so bad. Matt and I are doing amazing, and having a baby definitely wouldn't have been benificial to our relationship. But for some reason, knowing that doesn't make not having our baby hurt any less. It's hard to explain... But I don't want another baby. I want to graduate college and get married before it's time for that. I just wanted that baby, in that moment.

Life goes on, and things are great for me right now. I love Matt more than anything. School is great. Honestly I am so happy right now... But I can't stop thinking about it.