Kassandra
Mom to Zaynah Nevaeh
Miscarried August 2009
San Antonio, Texas
My angel was a very welcome surprise. I remember the day that I took the first pregnancy test, and the second and the third. I can still remember the first time I heard her heartbeat and saw her on the ultrasound screen. I remember the horrible morning sickness and aching breasts. At 6 weeks my doctor told me that the baby was doing great and had a strong heartbeat. My boyfriend Johnny and I cried and wished for a little girl. I was so excited for my next appointment.
When I went to my 9 week appointment I arrived full of hope. When I left I was in a pit of grief so deep I thought I would never make it out alive. I knew something was wrong within two minutes of the doctor starting the ultrasound. I watched as he tried to find a heartbeat and I heard nothing but silence. Tears ran down my face before the doctor even spoke. "I am sorry, " he said, "but your baby appears to have no heartbeat." He asked me questions about my pregnancy symptoms. I told him that I had been feeling wonderful, my morning sickness and sore breasts had disappeared. The doctor told me that those were not reassuring signs. I then felt guilty for feeling so wonderful while my baby died inside of me.
I remember Johnny holding me up as we walked out in to the waiting room and out of the office. I remember the looks that the other patients gave me as I cried again and again, "I want my baby back, I want my baby back, I want my baby back." I kept holding out hope that the doctor was wrong and I made an apoointment for an in depth ultrasound. I remember crying for days until that appointment. During the in depth ultrasound the technician would not speak to me. I kept asking her if there was a heartbeat and she would not answer me. She told me I would have to wait for answers until the doctor went over the ultrasound which took three agonizing days. The doctor told me that the second ultrasound confirmed his original finding. I had suffered a missed miscarriage.
I remember my despair as I waited for days for my body to expel my baby. It would not. I feel my body was trying to hold on, just as I was. My doctor scheduled a D&C for August 07, 2009. I carried my baby for almost two weeks after she passed. There are no words to describe the way that it made me feel to know that I was still carrying my deceased baby. I remember picking up the prescription that the doctor had written for me. It was for only one pill which he asked me to take a few hours before I arrived for my D&C. When I arrived at the hospital I felt as if I needed to use the bathroom. As soon as I took down my pants I started to miscarry. They took me to my bed and I remember the excruciating pain of the cramps as the nurse asked me question after question.
My grief was so great that I could not eat, sleep, I ignored all phone calls and would speak to no one. Not even my dear boyfriend who was in as much pain as I was. I remember going to work two days after the surgery and being asked by coworkers who had no idea what had happened how the baby was doing. I burst in to tears and ran to the bathroom. I was doing my best to keep moving and tried to keep myself busy. I cried myself to sleep every night. At my next appointment my doctor told me that the baby had been a girl, just as we had hoped. There was nothing wrong with her. The cause of the miscarriage was unknown.
I was devastated and angry. Why had this happened? Why had my baby been taken from me? What had I done to deserve this? Everyone kept telling me that it was all part of God's plan for me. Each time I heard those words I got angrier but I stewed in silence. Friends quit visiting, quit calling, quit speaking to me to altogether. No one knew what to say, so they said nothing at all, even Johnny. I was alone in my grief. Then came a light at the end of the tunnel.
Four months after my miscarriage I became pregnant again. I was excited and terrified at the same time. I walked on egg shells. I prepared myself for the worst even as I started experiencing cramping and bleeding. Miraculously my baby held on. I did not enjoy the majority of my pregnancy as I was too afraid to get attached. I was as careful as I could be, I lived in fear of another miscarriage. At 32 weeks I was hospitalized due to Pre-Eclampsia and was kept until I delivered at 37 weeks 1 day. I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl Aug. 12, 2010, one year and five days after I had my D&C. We named her Amaya Nevaeh (In rememberance of Zaynah) Hope (What she gave us.)
Not a day goes by that I do not think about my angel. Would she have looked like Amaya? It makes me feel guilty. If Zaynah had lived Amaya would not be here today. I do believe however that Amaya is what made all the difference in my overcoming my grief. My grief will remain with me always. So will my hope.
0 comments:
Post a Comment