In Memory

It’s not fair that I still have morning sickness after my baby has died. It’s not fair. Here I am, throwing up multiple times throughout the day and feeling queasy and seasick—my morning sickness getting worse instead of better. My body is feeling as pregnant as ever, but I know there is no heartbeat.

None of this is fair.

Snuggle Bunny

On our way home from the restaurant, Rob and I stop in at Target to pick up some prescriptions I need. After picking them up, I pull on Rob’s sleeve and nudge him over to the baby section. I run my fingers over the onesies, some socks, a little sweater.

Then I see it. It’s a little outfit, a soft green waffle-knit sweater paired with green and white striped pants. On the sweater it says, “Snuggle Bunny”.  It could work for a boy or a girl. I pick up the 0-3 month size.

I haven’t let myself dream yet. I haven’t let myself go there.

Trying

I have a follow-up appointment with the midwife a few weeks after the D&C. The appointment is supposed to be with the surgeon, but he is stuck at the hospital for something. I wait in the room for about twenty minutes before a midwife sticks her head in.

“I’ll be in with you in just a second,” she says. “I’m gonna fill in.”

She comes in a few minutes later and runs through a checklist of questions. Am I still bleeding? Any pain? No and no. She clears me for intercourse. I’ve already filled out the postpartum depression screening (did you know you can get postpartum depression after a miscarriage?) and I assume she’s already looked it over. Sad? yes. Depressed? No.

Grief Right Now

My womb is so empty.

I ended up still needing a D&C. For days after miscarrying, I continued to cramp and pass large golf ball sized clots. The baby was gone, yes, but there was a buildup of blood they said could lead to infection. So I went in for surgery last week and had my womb scraped clean.

I’ve never been in an operating room like that before and I admittedly got pretty scared. But then I woke up in another room, no memory of anything at all, just waking to the knowledge that all remnants of that pregnancy were in a trashcan somewhere. Before the procedure, I had to fill out a piece of paper where I designated what I wanted to be done with the “pregnancy tissue.” I knew I had already fished my baby out of the toilet, so it didn’t really apply to me, but it made me sad for all the others who have to fill out that same form.

What Should’ve Been You

I know something is wrong.

The midwife can’t find the heartbeat with the doppler. He moves it around and around, and I start to get nervous. He moves to use the small ultrasound machine next to where I am laying. I am 12 and a half weeks pregnant. I’ll hit the second trimester in a few days. He should be able to detect the heartbeat with the Doppler by now. He should. He reassures me that sometimes you can’t but the ultrasound will be quick. He squirts some jelly onto my stomach and moves the wand around.