Every journey begins with a step.
My husband and I decided to try to conceive as soon as we had our wedding ceremony. We got incredibly lucky and got pregnant immediately. Within 11 days of the wedding I was feeling the symptoms. I was dizzy and nauseous and boobs were growing to enormous proportions. Somehow, it took two weeks for the pregnancy test to show positive.
We told no one, but we were ecstatic. My husband switched to electronic cigarettes to facilitate him quitting. We had a special dinner together to celebrate. We were on cloud nine and bursting at the seems with our special little secret.
The first person I told was a medical scheduler at the military clinic, and he had no idea what kind of doctor's appointment to schedule (neither did I, to be fair). I finally found the OB part of the clinic and left my name and number (and sponsor's social security number--I swear I'll know his better than I know my own soon enough).
They never called me back. I figured it didn't matter as I wasn't 12 weeks and I thought that was when the first appointment was supposed to be.
fastforward
Monday, I came home and noticed some spotting. I called the OB department a bit spooked. They gave me some conditions on which I should go to the ER and told me not to worry. Those conditions were 1) bleeding through more than 1 pad an hour or 2) feeling cramps that hurt 7/10 or more. That night I had cramps, and all I could do was think over and over again "this isn't it, this doesn't hurt as much as 7/10." My husband can contest that easily based on how hard I was crushing his hand. I did not go to the ER. In retrospect, I probably should have.
The next day was hideous. I was crumpled in pain on the couch for most of the day. Still not much blood. Maybe a tablespoon total over both Monday and Tuesday, but there was some tissue. I knew it was over. I called the OB department of the clinic again wondering if I needed to show up or let me body deal with this on its own. They "reassured" me that I did not, in fact, have a miscarriage. The ordered laboratory tests. Thursday night I rushed out of work to take the first test. Let me just tell you how upset I was that the urine test did not include a pregnancy test! I do not know the results of the blood test. Saturday I took the second blood test for their level comparison. I could not take it anymore. I did not want to take time off work to get such depressing news and do nothing useful for myself. I did not want to waste my time or the doctor's time. I took another pregnancy test. It was negative. I knew it would be.
One of the signs of miscarriage is "feeling like you're not pregnant." Not all women who miscarry get this feeling (and that can make it even more horrible for those women), but many do.
I refuse to go back to the doctor's office and take unpaid time off work (I'm brand new at my job and haven't accrued vacation/PTO yet). I refuse to cry yet again. I refuse to tell anyone else.
About 3 friends have guessed what happened, and I told my mother and my mother-in-law. My husband told his father. I cannot handle telling anyone else. I have been crying more often than every day since Monday. It has been awful.
I don't want people to "cheer me up." I just want it to be OK that I'm sad. I don't want to look on the bright side--at least not yet.
Well... here we are. My husband is ready to try again. I won't refuse him, but I have more crying left in me. I need to do something special in the memory of this little lost one.
