My fourth(?) hospitalization was the first one anyone took me seriously, and they kept me for 4 days. I was a little over 9 weeks along. I was in the hospital that time when I felt the boys move for the first time at 9 weeks and 4 days. (Twin moms usually feel movement much earlier than singleton moms.) Neither of my first two pregnancies had made it that far. I had already lost 20 lbs. and was still shrinking. I was having heart palpitations because my electrolytes were so screwed up from puking so much. And it was still the best moment of my life. Those little secret moments, those special times that are just you and the baby in the middle of the night and you feel him or her roll or kick or hiccup or sigh, you forget to be afraid and you just LOVE. You learn how to relax into it. And even though you’re scared, you still enjoy it.
Healing After Miscarriage
I had my first miscarriage (that I know for sure I was pregnant — I think there was one earlier but I hadn’t tested yet so I can’t confirm) in July 2010. Baby showers were hell that summer. I was 5 weeks along. I bled a lot, which was how I knew something was wrong. Then my second was in December of that same year. I was about 7 weeks had already started to get very sick, and then suddenly I felt better. Had an ultrasound three or so days later and the baby had died. That one I had a D&C. It was very surreal. They gave me the option to wait to deliver the baby naturally with the second but I knew I couldn’t handle waiting for the other shoe to drop like that.
Even after the D&C I still had to pee constantly and I was so mad at my body. I felt like it betrayed me, and then it didn’t even get the memo!
The second pregnancy, every time I went to the bathroom I was afraid to look in the toilet because I was afraid of seeing blood again.
I had serious PTSD from that. Every time I got my period I almost had a mental breakdown. It was horrible.
So no WAY was I going to sit around and wait to “pass the baby naturally.” Eff that. I couldn’t handle it.
So THEN this whole pregnancy not only did I feel like I was going to die but I was CONVINCED that at any moment one or both of my babies was going to die.
For me the key was getting in with a doctor who believed my gut that there was more going on that just “miscarriages are very common.”
She trusted that I knew my body. I knew something else was going on. And I was right. I have a clotting disorder, which is what prevented my babies from growing and caused them to die. So now I know how to treat it and it is highly unlikely that I would miscarry again. I knew that going into this pregnancy, and it was still terrifying. But at least I could tell myself that over and over again and it kept me from losing my mind.
I just wanted a kid so bad. We actually looked into adoption while we were trying to figure out why I kept miscarrying, and almost succeeded twice. And then literally a week after the second one didn’t work out, I found out I was pregnant with twins.
Something that really helped me, and it may not be for everyone, was planting something in memory of the babies.
The first baby was a rose bush. We dug it up and brought it to Florida with us in a pot. And it’s about to bloom. In January.
It bloomed three times the first year and twice last year. I have no idea why. But it’s something I can take care of and look at and smile, and it really helps.
For the second I planted tulips, but, well, they died. So that was kind of depressing. But I feel more connected to the rose bush as the symbol of my other children, so I’m sticking with that.
Yes, I was able to enjoy my pregnancy once I stopped actively feeling like I was about to die. Before that I just WANTED to die because I was so, so sick. I understood how women could terminate wanted pregnancies just to feel better. I really, really got it.