Thursday, June 19, 2014

Babies, Puke, Jello Dreams & Miscarriage Fears

We've waited a long time for this adorable picture!
Hello everyone! You might’ve thought I dropped off the face of the planet over the past three months, but I’ve actually just been hiding in a cold, dark room with a wet rag, glass of crushed ice and bottle of Zofran. I’m officially the worst. preggo. ever. I’m finally starting to feel more human again, so I have to catch you up on the happenings in my world. I’ve missed talking to you!

In mid-April, I started to feel a little funny. But I ignored it. All of my girlie things have been off kilter, if you will, since my D and C in January. When Aunt Flow didn’t come around on time, I dismissed it as stress. On that Saturday morning, I woke up extra early because I was starting to get suspicious. And like any respectable southern belle would do, I went to the nearest Food Lion in my pajamas to purchase two boxes of pregnancy tests- just to be sure. I could not believe it when I saw that big fat POSITIVE. Only three cycles following our miscarriage, I was in shock. It had taken us forever and a day to conceive Caroline.  How could this have happened so fast? I cried tears of both excitement and fear.

Fear.

Miscarriage has followed me around like a ghost since January. It’s a daunting cloak of failure and sadness that no one can understand unless they have worn it themselves. In the privacy of my bedroom, I have cried a million tears into my pillow. I would be lying if I said it did not impact other areas of my life. My sadness affected my marriage, and Jason and I struggled to move forward with this entity of disappointment between us.

I will never understand why women act ashamed of miscarriage. In our society, miscarriage is swept under the rug and women are expected to proceed with their lives as if nothing happened. “It’s nature’s way of taking care of things,” people say. While shame does accompany the grieving process, it is paramount that this conversation becomes open and supportive. For those of us who believe life begins with a heartbeat in the womb, a miscarriage is a profound and devastating loss. I’m deeply sorry for everyone who has experienced a miscarriage and for the loss of your child who held so much hope and promise.

I thought miscarriage was coming for me again in May. As my pregnancy proceeded, I experienced bleeding at 6 weeks while on a business trip. My mind immediately assumed the worst, and I visited an emergency room in Las Vegas (yuck, I know) preparing myself for the inevitable bad news. However, the baby was fine. My HcG and progesterone were extremely high. The baby had a strong heartbeat. And I cautiously took a deep sigh of relief. 

Since this episode, I have bled and puked and puked and bled some more. To say the first trimester has been trying is an understatement! I did my best to stay thankful and to minimize complaining, but inside I wished that someone would just check me into the hospital so that I could hide from the world and be served Jello cups by a nice nurse who held my little yellow puke pan. A working mom can only dream! Ha. The magic little pill called Zofran has been a saving grace, and I would like to publicly thank the creators of this amazing drug! Zofran, you have allowed me to stay employed and care for my daughter.

Throughout the first trimester, I was diagnosed with subchoronic bleeds, marginal placenta previa and an irritated/oddly placed cervix among other things. At every sign of blood, I feared the worst, but God keeps reminding me HE is in charge when I see the little bean growing, stretching and moving. It’s the most beautiful and precious sight in the world.

My doctor has been very understanding about my anxiety and concerned about the bleeding, so I visit every two-weeks for ultrasounds. I will visit the high-risk doctor in mid-July for a more thorough look at the little one, although he or she is already perfect to me.

“Mommy, I pray for the new little baby,” Caroline reminds me almost everyday.  She kisses my stomach and asks the baby to come out to play.

My anxiety about the pregnancy can be all consuming and overwhelming, but I’m doing my best to let go.

My little baby Conner will never experience this big, bright world, but he changed our little world in incredible ways.  I know that he is with me everyday and watching over his new sibling.


We can’t wait to meet you Baby Surratt #3!

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