Then I woke up the next morning, only to find that I had started spotting.
Oh, right... I forgot to mention: I was pregnant. Surprise!
As someone with little patience, I took my first pregnancy test four days early, only to be surprised and elated to find two, pink little lines.
Pregnancy test from Thursday:
Hooray! Willow was going to be a big sister! Well, probably. It was still very early. I managed to find the patience to wait two more days and tested again.
Pregnancy test from Saturday:
Still positive! I wasn't just seeing things. I told Steve and we were both extremely excited. We even sat down and discussed names, and (sort of) settled on a handful of boy names we mutually agreed on. Same with girl names. In a matter of a few days, I'd already taught Willow to say "bebe" when I asked her what was in my belly. I couldn't wait for my stomach to grow bigger so she could better understand that there was something in there. I did the Ancient Chinese Birth Chart and it predicted we were having a girl. Her due date was May 19th, 2012. Yes! A warm weather baby! (Well, maybe. I'm pretty sure it barely made it to thirty degrees this past May.)
Monday came and went (the day I would have started my cycle), then so did Tuesday. I was really pregnant. I told my co-workers due to pregnancy-related job restrictions but I wanted to wait a few more days to tell my close friends and family. I'd planned to do so on Friday.
Only it's not Friday yet. It's Thursday. And Thursday I had a miscarriage.
It's been a difficult, emotional day and part of me is writing this and wondering if I'm even writing about me. I read all kinds of stories about miscarriages, but my pregnancy with Willow was so perfect, I didn't think this would ever be a part of my life. I keep looking at those positive pregnancy sticks thinking, "I WAS pregnant! He/she was in there just a few days ago!"
Only when I test again, this is what I get:
Absolutely nothing.
I know early miscarriages are common. 10%-20% of pregnancies result in them. And I suppose I'm lucky that this happened at five weeks instead of forty-one weeks.
Still, five or forty-one, I lost my baby. My little jelly bean is now just a statistic. I am deeply grieving this loss.
Luckily I have a beautiful girl to keep me going...
As hard as this is, I need to focus on my daughter that is alive and well, here in my arms. She will get me through this... and she will have a little brother or sister. Someday.
R.I.P. little jelly bean. I hardly knew you, but you'll be in my heart forever.
