I have to say, I am quite anxious. Let me explain:
About a year and a half ago, right after Christmas 2013, my hubby and I found out we were #expecting. We were t.h.r.i.l.l.e.d.
We went in for our first #ultrasound on Wednesday, March 19, 2013, when we were at 13.5 weeks. Past that so-called "Danger Zone"! And man did we fall in love with our little peanut. The technician even caught his smile on the ultrasound! I was amazed that something so beautiful was growing inside of me.
She searched and searched but couldn't find a thing, and since it was the end of the day, all she did was give me a referral to give at the emerg section at our #hospital, in case I wanted to get it checked over the weekend. But of course, I had no worry in the world, as "I was past that danger zone, and nobody could get me off MY Cloud 9". But I went any way on Sunday, just to see my baby again.
That Sunday morning, I got to the hospital at 7:26 a.m. and coolly made my way through the emergency doors. The nurses did some tests, took some blood samples and tested away. I waited, and waited and waited. I finally called my #mother and #mother-in-law because I wasn't sure what else to do, so they both came.
At 11:30 a.m. is when a doctor came and softly broke the news. She said something along the lines of, "blah blah, and it looks like his heart stopped beating". I broke in half right there. My whole world, all my plans, all my hopes and dreams were crushed in that one instant. "How could it be? What did I do?! Why me???" I thought to myself. But for reasons unknown, this just wasn't baby's time.
The next day was hard. I woke up "not feeling pregnant anymore" and completely broke down. I stayed home from work the next day to mourn and to get ready for a call from the hospital. The purpose of this call was to inform me of an opening there was at the hospital for an induced labour, since my baby boy was already 14 weeks; thus, too big for a d&c. I got this call at 3:30 p.m. the following day, and got there by 4:30 p.m. My family was there all day and most of the evening to comfort me. 10 p.m. is when the doctor arrived and started the treatment...
It wasn't until 11:30 the next morning, March 26th, that my water finally broke, and an hour and a half later, my pregnancy was completely over. It was absolutely dreadful. And I almost fainted from all the hyperventilating. It took me a long time before I recovered physically and emotionally. As I've mentioned in a previous post, I am well into fitness and sports, but I could not bring myself to do anything. I was a happy, bubbly and energetic person, but I will admit, #depression got the best of me most times. I closed myself off from the world because I didn't want to talk about it, so I felt lonely a lot of the time.
But on September 19, 2014, on my original due date, something hit me and I no longer felt depressed, as if that dark cloud had just vanished. I no longer wanted to hide myself, and I finally decided to get #active again. I joined #dodgeball, one of my all-time favourite activities and rocked it. I really do have a good arm, I must say, so it felt nice to kick some derrière once again.
And today, I proudly say that this life experience has only made my life richer, knowing I have a little angel watching from above and knowing that the love I had for my first will double for my second. I'm also grateful to everyone around me who helped me get back up on my feet. It took me quite some time to talk about this without shedding any tears, but I do believe I am a better person because of it, and I aim for a lot more in life. Finally, I don't take anything dear to my heart for granted anymore.
So now, the countdown is on. FOUR MONTHS LEFT and I get to hold my precious #Lukas in my arms.
If you or someone you know has been in a similar situation, I would be humbled to hear about your/their experience and ways you/they got through it or if there are still certain things you/they struggle with. :)
Thanks for reading.
-Alesia D.
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