The worst weekend of my life

So having recurrent miscarriages, you’re never really supposed to feel ‘safe’ in pregnancy.  Except I did, that was my big mistake.

We did IVF with PGS, so we knew we had a chromosomally normal baby.  I had ultrasounds every week to check in on my little bean.  She had a perfect heartbeat every time.  We had an NT scan at 12w5d and everything was normal, low odds of issues.  I was one day shy of 16 weeks pregnant, so things are supposed to be fine now.  None of my other losses had made it this far, I thought my problem was losing babies early on.  I had made it to this point with my daughter, so I really thought I’d be ok.

I checked the heartbeat Friday night with my home doppler- everything was good.  Found it right away in the 160s.  Woke up on Saturday and we did some chores.  Headed to Home Depot to buy some flowers, planted them in the afternoon.  My husband cautioned me to take it easy, so I just stood around most of the time.  We made burgers and apple crisp for dinner, what a lovely Spring night.  The next day was Mother’s Day, so my husband and I were making plans.  We talked a little bit about baby names before heading to bed.  I had a feeling that the baby was a girl, but we could never agree on a girl name!  Boy’s names were easy.

I went up to bed while my husband finished some emails and I wanted to listen to my baby again, just really quick.  I couldn’t find the heartbeat for several minutes, which was pretty odd.  I had had that happen once before, so I took a drink of water and walked around and then tried again.  Still nothing.  My husband told me not to panic and was trying to blame the doppler, saying that maybe it needed new batteries.  I knew.  I just knew.  I remember telling him that I was 90% certain that our baby was dead.  I don’t know how I went to sleep that night, I said I would try again in the morning.  But I knew.

Sunday morning was Mother’s Day.  I woke up at 430 and knew I wanted to check again with the doppler.  Hoping against hope that she was just hiding.  Nothing.  I went into the ER later that morning and it was confirmed.  My baby didn’t have a heartbeat anymore.  I am still haunted by the view of that ultrasound-  her not moving and no heartbeat.  I wish I hadn’t looked at the screen, it’s the worst image I’ve ever seen and it’s caused nightmares.  She measured right on- 16w, so I was given the choice to deliver her or have a D&C.  In the moment, I couldn’t imagine being induced.  I just wanted the horror of this all to be over.  I wanted my heart to stop beating, too, and it felt like it had.  How many times can one person handle their heart being ripped out?  And on Mother’s Day.  I don’t know what you believe in, God or the Universe or whatever, but that just seems extra cruel.

I want my baby.  My sweet little girl who was so wanted, who we tried so hard to have.  My daughter’s little sister that she’ll never get to meet.  I hate my body for not keeping her alive so I could meet her.


5 thoughts on “The worst weekend of my life

  1. Pingback: My Baby Died Two Days Before Her Due Date - The Good Mother Project

  2. “I am so, so sorry” just doesn’t seem to convey how truly horrific this had to have been for you. Nor dies it reflect the depth if my sympathy. I cannot imagine the pain you are enduring, and though we have just “met” here in cyberspace, my heart hurts for you. No one should have to endure this. Life is incredibly unfair and unjust at times.

    As you know, I am an atheist, and oddly enough that has comforted me in my losses. Knowing that I didn’t fall short in someone else’s eyes, that I wasn’t somehow undeserving of a child or being tested in some unbelievable fashion has helped me to cope. I have not lost a baby as far along, though, and I believe that anything that helps you deal with your grief is helpful. I don’t have any answers, but I do send love and hugs and can gf a virtual hand to hold if you need it.

    Much love,

  3. Oh hun, I have no words for this, I just wanted to leave a comment. My heart ached and ached reading this post. I’ve only had one miscarriage and it was very early, but I do know that feeling of having been so certain that everything would be fine only to have it ripped away. And the searing, unstoppable habit of noting “I should be this many weeks today…” Also, adding insult to injury, to use a term you discuss in another post, I also experienced my loss on a holiday, Easter Sunday. It is a special holiday for me, symbolizing rebirth and hope. The irony felt beyond cruel. To lose your baby on Mother’s Day, it’s just too awful for words. Sometimes life makes no sense. I just want you to know that there are people out there reading your words and grieving with you.

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