I am your typical 30 year old wife of a Canadian soldier and mother to two pretty fun loving kids. We weren’t planning on having another baby, but we were in for such a surprise! I woke up one morning feeling funny. I just knew something was going on with me. Sure enough I was pregnant! I was scared, nervous and happy! Having another baby would have made things a little tighter here at home, but we wanted this baby. We (my husband and I) created another beautiful life and we were thrilled. My daughter (4 years old) was also excited! She wanted a baby sister to dress up in frilly dresses. Our 17 month old son, well he was just happy because we were happy. But then on the 21st of August I woke up feeling really strange. My husband was gone on a month long exercise and my mom was visiting with us. I began to have cramps. I didn’t think this was a warning sign since I had cramps with my first two children. I was told by many friends and family that the cramps just meant I was changing inside. I put it off in the back of my mind. I continued on my day with breakfasts and cleaning. Entertaining my kids and being around my happy mom.
I went to the bathroom and discovered I was bleeding! To my horror I panicked! I called my mother-in-law and sister-in-law (both live down the street from me) and couldn’t get a hold of them. So a good friend of mine watched my kids while my mom and I went up to the hospital. I was crying and shaking the whole time. Asking God not to take this baby from me. I grew attached to my little pickle. I wanted this baby. I loved this baby. They sent me to the non-emergency zone. I figured it was because they already knew that I was losing the baby. I sat in the waiting room with my mom silently crying. I didn’t want my pickle to go anywhere! I wanted him so badly.
I was told after a blood test that my pregnancy hormone level was good. That the bleeding could be just first trimester bleeding and that it was very common. I went home, picked up my kids and attempted not to think of negative thoughts. Kept trying to convince myself that no I wasn’t losing my baby. That everything was fine. On Saturday afternoon I knew I had lost my baby. I was taking a nap and woke up to such intense cramping. It felt like someone was pulling me apart. I silently screamed into my pillow and after two hours the pain began to lift. I knew at that point my baby was gone. I cried so hard. It wasn’t fair. I wanted and loved this baby and now I would never be able to hold him. Or kiss him. Or introduce him to his brother and sister.
On Sunday I went back to the hospital to confirm. It felt like forever when the doctor came in with that stone face. She said she was so sorry but that I had lost the baby. I cried so hard. My mom caught me with her arms. She brought me to her chest and cried with me. I texted my husband and told him to come home. That I had lost our pickle. He was sent home on compassion leave. There is a piece of me missing and I have hope that one day when it is my time to go, I will see him again. I didn’t get to find out of it was a girl or a boy. I just have this feeling it was going to be another boy. Sometimes I have good days and sometimes I have bad days. I now believe that my baby boy is looking down upon my family. He is watching over us and sending his love when he can.
Thank you for allowing me to tell my story.