I've been meaning to start this blog for a while. Since the positive pregnancy test, actually. But I never could quite figure out what to say.
If you don't know, this is my second pregnancy, my "rainbow pregnancy". We lost our first baby, a girl, at 1:59am on May 5th, 2014. I had bled heavily for over a month during that pregnancy, and though we knew something was not quite right, every ultrasound looked perfect, and most importantly, she was healthy. I went to countless doctors' appointments, went on bed rest for 2.5 weeks, and the bleeding slowed down significantly. I thought we could hold on until at least "viability week" - 24 weeks. When I reached 22 weeks, 3 days, I started having contractions. I thought they were Braxton Hicks, but I quickly learned they weren't when they got closer and closer together, so we went to the hospital. They admitted me after seeing I was dilated 4 centimeters, and we hoped that I would just be put on hospital bed rest until the baby was viable at at least 24 weeks, only a week and a half away. Unfortunately, two days later, my contractions picked up again and were very intense. When they offered me an epidural, I knew what was going to happen. Long story short, our baby girl was born too soon, at 22 weeks 6 days gestation. She was 11.5 inches long, weighed 1 pound 6.93 ounces, and was absolutely perfect. But she was too young to survive. I'm thankful that the moment she was born we knew the reason that it all happened - I had a full placental abruption. My placenta must have not attached right at the beginning, and was slowly separating from the uterine wall, causing that bleeding. They can't see it in the ultrasounds until it is more than 25% detached, and at that point I would have been having horrible contractions anyway.
We named our daughter Angel Belle, because she was already an angel when we met her, and she was the most beautiful little girl we've ever seen.
Though the grief process was intense and is still ongoing, we immediately knew we wanted to try again. We waited for one full cycle after I got my first postpartum period, and amazingly, I was pregnant again on the first try. I got my "big fat positive" on August 4th, the day before our 3 month loss anniversary. I was immediately elated, and surprised that I felt only a little bit of fear. I was convinced things would be better this time, and that we could have a healthy pregnancy resulting in a healthy baby.
Our due date with Angel Belle passed on September 2nd. It was my original goal to be pregnant by that day, as I thought it would make it easier on myself. I think it did, as we were able to be hopeful, but it was still a very sad day. Thankfully, the little white butterflies Angel Belle sends us followed us everywhere.
The one thing I really was afraid of was that this baby would be a boy. It sounds horrible, I know, and I never want him to read this and think that I did not want him, because I would give anything for a healthy baby of either gender, and I know I will love him more than anything. But I had already lost my girl, and I wasn't prepared to lose my dreams of having a girl first. I think part of the reason I was so afraid is because I knew from the start that it was a boy, and I just didn't want to believe it. I wasn't ready to pack up the girl clothes we had bought, and I'm still not ready to completely take them out of the baby's room. I still have not fully accepted it, but I know I cannot change anything. I'm so thankful and lucky to have this baby growing inside me so soon after his sister, and I know it's part of the grief process, but I feel bad when I have some sadness over it still. I know my feelings will change immediately when he is placed in my arms for the first time, though.
Now to the reason I actually sat down to write this today. Today I am 22 weeks 6 days pregnant with our rainbow baby. When I made my 22 week chalkboard for our weekly bump photo last week, I felt a little anxious. Last time, I made a 22 week chalkboard and it sat untouched in the baby's room for almost 5 months. This pregnancy has been completely different, though, some things I believe because it's a boy (my body really is into the traditional old wives' tales for each gender), and some things because hopefully my placenta is perfectly attached this time. I knew this week would be hard, but for the most part I've been fine. But this morning the sadness hit me hard. I should have a baby girl in my arms right now. She would be smiling and giggling and working on rolling over. We should be preparing for her first Christmas, like so many of my friends are doing this year. We should have taken her to see Santa this month, and picked out the perfect "Baby's First Christmas" ornament for the tree. We shouldn't have to know the worst emotional pain in the entire world. I wouldn't wish this pain and grief on my worst enemy. I wish I didn't constantly feel like part of my heart is missing, and I wish that the question "Is this your first baby?" didn't cut like a knife. I didn't realize that I would miss her more every day, and though she occasionally will give me a sign that she's with me, I wish I could say it was enough.
I didn't think today would be so sad for me. I thought it would be easier to be happy that I've passed this milestone, and that I'm one step closer to the baby's viability. Hopefully I'm just getting the tears out of the way this morning so I can be happy now. I'll just be here counting the days until April...
