Friday, September 23, 2011

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 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.

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