Our second wedding anniversary.
We dropped Teagan off early that morning with my in-laws. Our appointment with the specialist was at 7:15 am. My sister, Kelly, met us in the waiting room. I lost it.
They took us back and I spoke with a nurse practitioner, who explained that they would do another ultrasound. I just watched the screen the whole time, I knew this would be the last time I would see my baby. The tech kept asking if me if I was ok, and I was fine. We went back into the patient room and the nurse practitioner told us that the tech believed he had “ACRANIA,”which is what they had told us the previous Friday. They told us that they would send my scans on to the specialist and that I would hear from him before my surgery took place. We left the hospital and got Mr. B breakfast, then headed back to wait for surgery. I waited with Harrison, my sister Kelly, and my preacher for what seemed like forever as the Doctor put his orders in. I felt like I was ok during this whole time; I was still in shock. Right before they took me for surgery, my brother-in-law, Matt, who also works at the hospital, came to see me. I don’t know why, but I tried so hard to not cry in front of him. Once he left, I was all alone in the room and just completely lost it. The anesthesiologist came over as I was crying and asked how far along I was. I told her I was 14 weeks.
When they took me from surgery back into the waiting roomand I saw Mr. B, I couldn’t help but cry again. My nurse told me that this same thing had happened to her, but with her first baby, and now she has four kids.
And just like that, I wasn’t pregnant anymore.
For the first week after our miscarriage, I had sad moments, but nothing overwhelming. I was still in shock. I felt like it didn’t really happen.
Then it hit me, and it hit me hard. I cried a lot. I was sad. I was mad. I was annoyed. I was angry. I was grieving the loss of our child.