I’m trying to find a way to discuss what happened to us over Easter weekend with the blogosphere, but I’m not even sure what to say to myself quite yet. Here goes…
I went for my first prenatal appointment on Friday morning. The OBGYN’s little ultrasound machine wasn’t picking up a heartbeat in my little bean, and he/she was measuring 7 weeks, and I was 10 weeks. So, they sent me down a floor to radiology, where the more powerful ultrasound machines could give us a better picture. We had to wait in the radiology lobby for almost an hour. The longest hour of my life. Well, except for the next hour after that when results were being read and sent back to the clinic.
Then, they laid the bad news on me: bean had no heartbeat, and had probably passed away two weeks ago. And it’s not my fault and it’s normal and blah blah blah. Nothing anyone said to me for the rest of that day or the next made me feel better about it.
I had to take some medication to get things moving. It had already been two weeks, and they were concerned about things still being inside me. THAT was easily the worst part of all of it. To have to endure the physical pain in addition to all the emotional pain I was already in. Though, it has made it easier to begin healing now that it’s officially over.
We are hopeful for the future, and know that having a successful pregnancy later on is very probable for us. It’s just getting through the here and now that’s giving us some trouble. Trying to sort out why this happened, and how we can make some sense of it, if any at all. Trying to pick up the pieces of our lives and our hearts and move forward.