Heartbroken

This is the hardest blog post I think I've ever had to write. I'm finding it hard to find the words. I have so many thoughts, but I can't figure out how to process those thoughts.

6 weeks, 5 days.

We made it 6 weeks, 5 days...and that's all God would give us.

On Thursday, January 18 I suffered a miscarriage.

On Wednesday I started to bleed right before my weekly appointment with Dr. Binor. Sherri did an ultrasound and assured me that everything was alright. Cervix was closed, lining was thick, baby was sitting cozy and heartbeat...yes, there was a heartbeat.

"Listen to this, Courtney"

She turned up the volume and let me take in the sounds of that beautiful heartbeat.

"I know you're scared, but everything looks great. Go home, relax and enjoy"

I went home, laid down, but I couldn't relax. Something wasn't right.

Come Thursday I started feeling a bloated pressure that I've felt one too many times. I couldn't shake the feeling because I knew, deep down, what was to come our way and sure enough, Thursday evening the bleeding increased.

Don and I went to the emergency room and needless to say we were both a wreck. When I get nervous I have full blown conversations with myself in my head. I kept trying to assure myself that there was a heartbeat and that this is going to be a rollercoaster of a pregnancy which in the end would deliver a trouble maker of a baby. My guess was that it was a boy.

After my initial exam in the ER, the doctor had a more positive tone to his voice.

"Cervix is closed Courtney. This is a great sign. Let's get you in for an ultrasound and see what that shows."

Cervix closed. Thank God! Just what I thought, a bad baby.

The wait was too long for a couple who were struggling to cling on to hope. We tried making small talk to pass the time and every once in a while one of us would make the other laugh. After what seemed like forever, they finally wheeled us into ultrasound.

I always try my best to read the ultrasound tech's face. I look for any expression that could possibly give a clue as to what they see, but this ultrasound tech was wearing her poker face and I couldn't get a good read as to what chance we had. I kept looking at Don who was studying the monitor profusely.  No one was making any faces and no one would look at me. The dark room was filled with silence and it killed me.

This ultrasound took longer than most that I've had. Once the tech left I looked at Don who said, "I saw something. I saw the baby." 

Oh, thank God. I'm two days shy of being 7 weeks pregnant and have already had 3 decent heart attacks thanks to this bad baby!

Once we got back into the room we waited for the doctor to confirm what Don saw. We were already there for a few hours and I was getting more than antsy. At this point I was shaking off the cramps and bleeding and was ready to get home to bed.

In walks the doctor.

"I'm sorry, I was hopeful. Baby doesn't have a heartbeat and you're still a couple days from miscarrying." 

He knocked the wind out of me. I guess I knew all along, but didn't want to believe it.

Don hurried the nurse up to get me discharged. I was hanging on by a thread and he knew I was about to flip. The nurse said sorry countless times and gave me a pitiful, poor soul smile that I wanted to slap off her face. She handed me the ultrasound results and discharge papers and told me to follow up with my OB.

As we were walking through the ER I started to read the ultrasound results.

"Twin pregnancy."
"Baby A- no heartbeat"
"Baby B- no heartbeat"

I stopped in my tracks and shouted "twins" to Don.

This is how we find out that we had twins? What. The. F*ck.

Unfair is not the right word. It's putting it too lightly and I have yet to find the words to explain the devastation, hurt, anger, hopeless, heartbroken feeling that I feel all at once. There's no word.

I met with my OB the next day and we decided that a D&C would be best. The cervix was still closed and we were days away from the actual miscarriage. My OB thought it would be best that we get the D&C so we can grieve and not prolong the whole process. I agreed and went in yesterday for the procedure.

As they wheeled me into the OR I started to cry. My OB tried making small talk and said, "tell everyone your daughter's name"

"Olivia."
"What's her middle name?"
"Hope."

A nurse, who I've never met before, smiled and said, "well isn't that a fitting middle name"
and just like that, I went to sleep.

The past few days have been brutal. As soon as I think I can catch my breath I just about lose it again. All I want to do is sleep, but I find myself wishing that once I wake up I realize that it's all been a nightmare and that all will be alright again.

My OB told me that once a healthy heartbeat has been detected, 94% of pregnancies turn out successful. Of course, I fall into that 6%.

The pain is still very much raw. This is the 6th baby we've lost and let me tell you, it doesn't get any easier.

My heart is broken and I don't know how to make the pain go away.

6 weeks, 5 days...and I loved every second.