Dearest Darling-
For a week, you were mine.
When I saw it on that Saturday morning, the plus sign, I was elated. I immediately took a picture of it with my phone and sent it to your aunt. I had to tell someone (I didn’t want to wake your dad). She was at soccer practice. She said she couldn’t see it in the light. This deflated my joy. But hours later she got home. She texted I SEE IT! With smiley heart eye emojis. We started planning your future. Your dad and I were so excited to become a family of four.
For the week you were mine, I thought about you constantly.
I thought about whether you would be her baby brother or sister. I thought about how she would love you completely either way but how she has really been asking for a sister named Rose. I don’t think she even knows you both had a Canadian great grandmother with that name.
I thought about how you needed to grow. I thought about every bite and sip that crossed my lips. I instantly almost completely quit coffee which is a feat when there are only 3 weeks left in the semester. I gave up lunch meat which wasn’t that hard. I tried to eat eggs again, which was harder. I thought about how my first festive beverage in the future would come right around New Year’s 2019 as I toasted your arrival. It was when you were due. I knew the wine in our cellar would keep.
I thought about all the sleep I would lose soon. No one tells you how much you lose during pregnancy. I was ready for all of it because I knew that in the wakeful moments before you arrived, I would be feeling your life blossom inside of me. In the times after you joined us, I would be nuzzling your soft head.
most weirdly, I actually thought about your immunity. I projected when you would need to enter daycare. I tried to calculate when your dad and I would be able to take leave and when I would be able to go back to work, calculating how much teaching load I have in the bank. I wanted as many months as I could steal with you without throwing you into the mixer. I was optimizing conditions in my mind.
I thought about how I would tell everyone all about you at our upcoming family vacation in Florida. I just knew your grandmothers would be elated. A new baby in the family would make everyone more joyous that week. I thought about how I would need to enjoy that trip because I likely wouldn’t be making too many more as we waited for you.
And then the ominous signs of Friday came. I had meetings all day. I kept sneaking out of them to the restroom to see if it had stopped. It didn’t. Your aunt texted me to relax. She knew it could be fine. But as the day progressed, other things did too, and by the night, I didn’t really feel fine about anything. I tried hopelessly to sleep on it.
By the morning, it was much worse. I called the advice nurse in desperate need of advice. She told me things could still be fine but that I needed to go to the ER. The ER I said? Really? She said yes they need to check your hCG levels and do an ultrasound to establish a baseline for monitoring your growth. Again, she encouraged me it could all be fine. She said do not go alone.
Since the nurse had said it was just to set baselines, I didn’t see why I needed to ruin your sister’s morning, so I took her to gymnastics watching her swing from the monkey bars and balance on the beam. I took her to my favorite Mother’s Day weekend event, the edible schoolyard plant sale. I picked out tomatoes and peppers for our summer garden. We ate a lovely lunch before we left your sister with your cousin and headed out to the hospital. Tears welled up in my eyes as we left your sister smiling at the door. She didn’t know about you. I hadn’t told her yet. She just said, “It’s ok mommy!” I said thank you baby, and I knew it could be.
It was a bright sunny day as we entered the hospital, but I couldn’t look up. I saw expectant moms and babies in arms, so I couldn’t look out. I just looked down. The triage nurse was wearing a black t-shirt that said Mom Bod, clearly 4-5 months along. It seemed I couldn’t look anywhere.
The waiting was agonizing, but they finally took us back. They drew my blood. Then I rode on a gurney though the hospital keeping my sandals on as they stuck out under my blanket. I don’t know why I kept them on. I don’t know why I thought they would let me walk gowned to to the ultrasound. The technician took so many pictures, I didn’t think there was any way they couldn’t all be of you. It turns out she has a really great poker face. She should take it to Vegas.
While we waited for all of the results to be analyzed by the doctor, the receptionist came in to take my information for insurance and billing. She took my copay, showed me where to sign. I was so out of it, I noted it was three o’clock but I wrote down all the dates in March. She wished me Happy Mother’s day as she walked out. I know I am a mother, but did she not realize why we were here? I teared up again in anxious anticipation.
After reviewing all the blood work and ultrasound pictures, the doctor came back in. He said, “Did you have a positive pregnancy test?” I said, “Of course, last Saturday.” I knew it then so I just only half heard the rest. He said my hCG was at 5 and that the pictures I had thought were all the first ones of you were just empty. He said with a positive test a week ago but with the levels now only at 5, I had had a complete miscarriage. I was in shock. I didn’t know if he was implying you had never been. Your dad held my hand comforting me after the doctor had left, gently saying he thought the doctor awkwardly just meant for me to know you never would be and not to seek the second opinion he had also told me was within my right to find. We both wished he had had a bit better bedside manner.
I have spent the day since, my fourth Mother’s day as a mother, fighting back the tears of your loss. I feel empty, a fact that has now been medically confirmed. I miss you. I had no idea I could be so attached with only one week connected to your not quite yet heart. Your sister doesn’t know why I keep crying. She asks me why, and all I can tell her is I lost something. She asks what, and I say it is hard to explain, but it was something very very special. I had the brightest future for you in my mind. For a week you were mine, and I hope you know, you were so deeply loved.
Love-
Your mother