Lately I've been a little down, one may say a little depressed even. I couldn't figure out exactly why. I thought maybe it had something to do with the days getting shorter... Or the recent drop in temperature with the snow. It took me until today to figure out what my problem was....
Four years ago today, I found out that I was about two months pregnant and would be having a baby mid-June. I was freaked out. I knew what I was expected to do in June, and that scared the bloody hell out of me! I holed up in my apartment all weekend trying to figure out what I should do. The pregnancy was far from planned. I had just turned 25 about a month before. I wasn't in a great financial situation. The relationship with my baby's Father was of the on again/off again variety. I didn't know how he would react but was sure it was either going to be "Great! I'm excited to be a Dad!" or at the opposite end of the spectrum of "Piss off, don't ever speak to me again!" I didn't know what I was going to do.
Monday morning I walked into work, and told the Father I was going to have to speak to him after work... And that it was important... It wasn't fair of me to do so, and he told me as much. I wound up telling him in a whispered tone, right there on the dock, that I was expecting. Thankfully, he reacted "WE'RE HAVING A BABY!" First big stress off... I trimmed down on my smoking to 4 or 5 cigarettes a day, down from a pack. I made sure I didn't do anything that would hurt the baby and started eating better. Our families' reaction wasn't good, the only one actually happy about the news was the baby's grandpa on the Father's side. (Our relationship was pretty volatile at times, which lead to the less than enthusiastic response.)
I had an actual Doctor's appointment which confirmed that I was indeed pregnant. Two weeks later, I was booked in for an ultrasound to see exactly how far along I was. I knew something was wrong when the ultrasound technician wouldn't let me see the monitor, and didn't give me any pictures at the end of the visit... I tried to shake it off and put it in the back of my brain.... It worked briefly, until a week later I started spotting. I rushed to the Dad and we ripped up to the Royal Alex Hospital.... We sat in the ER for 8 hours before being seen. (I wish I were exaggerating, but I'm not.) They sent us home and told me to come back the next day for an emergency ultrasound to figure out what was going on.
The next day I went in for the ultrasound and took the horrible news. I was miscarrying. They had the results from my first ultrasound and the baby hadn't grown. As far along as they figured I was, they should have been able to find the baby's heartbeat...They couldn't find it. They told me they were very sorry, but there was nothing they could do. I was devastated.
After I lost the baby, the Father and I were back in our routine of being on the outs. My mind was messed up for a very long time. I was angry, sad, depressed, grief stricken. I felt such hatred towards the father, because if he felt anything I was feeling, he wasn't showing it.
Here it is 4 years later and I still haven't forgotten. I never got to see an ultrasound. I never got the chance to find out if my baby was a boy or girl. I never got to hold him or her, but I will always hold my baby in my heart.
It's not always about me, but I know I have a special Angel Baby watching over me.
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