Mom to Lil Bit
Miscarried on December 12, 2007
Mount Dora, Florida
I lost my baby four years ago today. That is what made me finally comment here. I am alone tonight and decided that I need to share, to talk to people who understand. I am 25 years old. I was told from the time I was 16 that I would be infertile, that I would need much assistance to conceive a child.
In 2007, I went for a routine pap smear and the doctor discovered that I had cancerous cells on my cervix, just developing, so he was able to remove the infected areas before it spread. So during this time, I had to stop taking my birth control which I used just to keep hormones in balance. My ex and I weren’t worried about getting pregnant since I couldn’t have children. I was at work the day before one of my follow-up appointments to make sure the cells were gone and hadn’t spread. This was October 25th. I was talking to my best friend and we starting taking about female issues and I started thinking I hadn’t had my period in a while. I figured it was from all the trauma my body was going through but I decided to take a test. I can’t really tell you why I thought I should take a test. I work at a drug store so I went and bought the test and went to the bathroom. A few minutes later, I had a test with two pink lines. I was in shock; I was positive that it was wrong. So I took a second. Two pink lines again. Twelve tests later and twelve lines or plus signs and I started getting the idea. I cried. I sat and just cried. I didn’t know what to think; I had steeled myself against wanting kids, I didn’t want to hope for something I couldn’t have and here it was, my baby. Everything I wanted in life changed in that moment. I was so excited.
So after work (I work overnights) I went to my morning appointment and told them what had happened. Knowing my history, they told me to not expect much just yet. So I took a test for them and again two little pink lines. The nurses laughed and cried with me. The doctor ordered me to take a sonogram right away to see what was going on. I’ll fast forward for a moment and say when they did the sonogram and I heard the heartbeat and saw that little form inside me, I couldn’t breathe; also a lot more crying. I found out from that sonogram, the size of the baby and from my menstrual cycle that I was around three months pregnant already. I had attributed all the symptoms as being related to me being sick, throwing up, nausea, all of it. Really it had been morning sickness and everything. They gave me vitamins and things to start reading and thinking about. I was so excited, overwhelmed and just speechless.
I was considered high risk because of my history and my doctor made me go for weekly sonograms. Not normal, I realize that now but it didn’t mean anything to me then. I got to see and hear my baby every week. I was thrilled. October finished fine, my first week in November was fine, but two weeks into November, I went in for my weekly appointment, and the sonogram tech didn’t talk to me like she normally did. She kept telling me that she couldn’t answer my questions, that i would have to wait for the doctor. He told me it wasn’t a big thing yet, but the baby’s heartbeat wasn’t as high as it normally was. But growth and everything was progressing normally. I wasn’t too worried; I was told things could vary from week to week. I went in again a week later, and again, the tech was quiet. The doctor reviewed the tests and again the heartbeat wasn’t measuring correctly and the baby was the same size as the week before. He told me to stay off my feet for the week and to take it easy.
Now I was antsy; two weeks with the doctor being grim didn’t sit well with me. I think back and wonder if I knew what has happening and was just denying it. I went in again for my weekly test and same result. The heartbeat was even lower and now it had been two weeks with no growth. Honestly I can’t remember what was going through my mind. I kept hoping that the next week would be different. The week after Thanksgiving, I went in again. Same result, very low heartbeat, still no growth. At this point I panicked. The doctor sat me down and told me to start preparing myself for the worst case scenario. He wanted me to keep taking care of myself and the baby and to stay off my feet, but that mentally I should start preparing myself that I may not carry to term. I asked him what that exactly meant, to prepare myself not to carry to term. He told me that the baby may not make it. He didn’t think the baby was strong enough. I went numb. I felt like I was in this cloud or bubble. How could I not have this baby in a few months? It didn’t make sense. I lived in a state of denial; my doctor had to be wrong. More tests and same results, no growth; there was still a heartbeat, but it was very weak. I remained hopeful: my baby may be weak, but he had survived this far. We could do it. Regardless of bad news, but every week he still had a heartbeat. One day at a time.
Then my appointment on December twelfth came. The sonogram tech started the test and very quickly got up and left the room. I saw my baby on the screen. I didn’t want to think about why she left. The doctor came back in and destroyed my world. After all these weeks of holding on, Lil Bit’s heartbeat was gone. He told me I needed to go to the hospital for a D&C within a couple days if my body didn’t begin to expel the tissue. What a horrible thing to say. That was my baby. Not tissue, not something to remove, no, that was my Lil Bit, my BABY. The test had to be wrong, Lil Bit couldn’t be gone. I was making plans and getting his room ready. How could he be gone, I hadn’t held him yet or heard him cry. This wasn’t happening.
But it was and two days later, I went to the hospital and went through the most painful thing I have ever experienced. They did another sonogram; still no heartbeat. No matter how much I wanted the tests to be wrong, to have a miracle happen, it was not meant to be. I cried until the anesthesia knocked me out. I woke up and they sent me home. Two days of cramping, a little bleeding and that was it; one day I am excited and waiting to hold my Lil Bit and the next I was alone, with nothing but a few pictures and my memories.
I went into a deep, deep depression. I didn’t talk to friends or family for almost a year. What made everything even worse, my older sister had conceived and was due at the same time I was. So I had lost my baby, but she was still pregnant and on my due date, my nephew was born. That hurt more than I ever thought it would. I wanted to be happy for my sister, but all I could think about was that it should be me. It is four years later and I think of Lil Bit every day and wonder what he would be doing and what he would look like. Instead of planning play dates and birthdays, I go to my nephew’s birthdays and read him books and remember to be happy for my sister, that she had a safe, healthy pregnancy and that I have a beautiful nephew.
I will never forget my Lil Bit. He was only with me five months, but he changed my life forever. Sometimes I wonder if maybe this was my fault. Did I do something wrong? But I stop and remind myself that Lil Bit is in heaven, running around and waiting for me. And that someday, I will get to hold him and kiss him and tell him how much I love him and how I have always loved him, how much he was wanted and how many dreams he fulfilled.
Tiffany can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.