I have kept pretty quiet about the rough experience we went through a little over three months ago. I've been doing my best to process everything and to "handle" things the way I need to. I am ready to break my silence. I am ready to tell my story. I hope that it helps just one person. So, here it is.
Wow, so much has happened since my last post in April. We found out were having a BIG SURPRISE, baby number three. We were so caught off guard but equally as happy and blessed. May 1st, 2013 we found out after a week of being nauseous. One VERY long month of being so sick and so tired later, I woke up to blood. I called my doctor who was on vacation, and was then transferred to the doctor on call in her office. She told me it was not a big deal and not to worry, but to ease my mind if I wanted to come into the hospital, she would write the referral. Jordan was away at training with the Army and I had Layne(3) and Hudson (8months) at home all alone. I called my grandma who rushed over and quickly made my way to the hospital. I prayed. I prayed like I have never prayed before. I was so calm though. Too calm, you might say. It was like I already knew. The resident on call at the women's hospital came in and did an exam. She said everything looked great. That wasn't enough for me. I demanded an ultrasound. Although she didn't want too, she had the nurse get the ultrasound machine. As soon as she turned the machine on, she looked down... then unplugged it. I sat, confused. She said, while walking out the door, "There is no baby." The nurses mouth dropped in shock of her lack of compassion. The resident left the room and the nurse stayed. I told her I didn't understand. She gave me a few pamphlets on miscarriage and left the room. There I sat, again confused. I called Jordan. As soon as he answered, I lost it. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe. He knew. All he said was, "We are going to be okay. I love you."
How. How are we going to be okay? On the drive back home, I couldn't help but blame myself. Did I not eat right? Not exercise? Too very prenatals? Worry too much? As I typed the words on Facebook so that I didn't have to answer 500 questions, I was numb. I felt nothing.
I got home to my sweet sweet boys. Layne's hugs have never felt so good. Hudson's smile had never been so warm. At that moment, I knew... this is why "We are going to be okay."
I couldn't get into my regular OB for 4 more days. For 4 days, I bled and was in so much pain. I went into the office, Jordan by my side. I knew I had to tell her why I was there. I knew I actually had to say the words. It was so real. She verified that there was no heartbeat, but there was a baby. I was sent home to "pass" the baby myself. I was given the option to have surgery instead, but somehow knowing that my body could do what it needed to do naturally, without medication or surgery, made me feel like I would be able to carry another child. Silly... possibly, but the OB assured me that whatever made me feel the best was what was most important. I had no idea why she sent me home with 3 prescriptions for pain medicine. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but three?
The next two weeks, I was sick every single time I used the restroom. Each time a tiny part of that sweet pregnancy passed. I was forced to watch and monitor to make sure everything was going "as it should" and I wouldn't end up with an infection. Oh the pain. The physical pain of passing everything without medication, because I didn't think I would need it so didn't fill the prescription. I also knew I needed to be as alert as possible with two little angel boys that needed mommy, no matter the situation. Two weeks later, it was over. At least the physical part was over.
Here I am, three and a half months later and I miss that sweet baby more and more each day. Would I have had a girl or a boy? Would he/she have looked like the boys? Every pregnant person I see, every baby outfit, OB reference... even pickles make me miss you.
How do I get through? I squeeze my sweet boys. I feel their hearts beat and remember that I am so blessed. I remind myself that God wanted me to be a parent of them. He wanted me to cherish my time with them. I remind myself that one day, I will meet Baby Three. One day, I will rock him/her. I will kiss his/her head and tell them that they were so wanted.
I can assure you, the Bull family....will be okay.
Rip Sweet Baby Bull - We love you, to Heaven and back.
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