I told y'all at the beginning of the month there would be a few serious posts this month. This is another one. I'm also opening up a little and talking about something that even some of my friends don't know about me.
I'm going to show the mani first, for those who may not want to read my story. The colors are pink and blue, most ribbons show this as pastel colors, but I wanted to use a little bit of both.
I started off with 2 coats of Fly, a quick dry top coat, and then taped some lines to apply Sky High-Top. I did kinda mess up a little, but it's all good.
Then I took Blue-Away and the pink made some blobs on a laminated card & drew lines using a dotting tool (I really need to get a brush similar to yet shorter than a striper brush). I put blue over the pink and pink over the blue. It's not perfect, but again I'm ok with that.
Now, to the story.......
I, Harriett, have been affected by the loss of a pregnancy. In 2002, just before Mothers Day, I found out I was pregnant. It wasn't planned, but I was excited. I've always loved kids and there have always been small children in my family. I grew up babysitting my younger siblings, my cousins, and my hairstylists kids. I was craving chocolate & ice cream like crazy. I went to the store and bought $60 worth of ice cream. No lie.
It was kinda difficult to tell my family, but they took it a lot better than I thought they would. Even my Granny. I went to my doctors & was informed I was due just after the new year, 1/03/03. I was gaining weight and doing great. NO morning sickness what-so-ever.
Ten weeks into my pregnancy, I started spotting and called my doctor. I went in for tests and waited for the results. Unfortunately, I didn't get the results because just a few days later on June 15th, it was worse. I didn't freak, but had my mom call 911. The EMT's were wonderful and we joked around about how hard it was to get an IV in me. Just before we got to the hospital I saw the Hot Sign on at Krispy Kreme and wished I'd had a phone to call my mom and tell her to go get me some. I don't think I'd realized yet what was happening. That is, until I got into the ER and they switched me over to a bed and off the stretcher. I think I'd left a few pints on the stretcher and knew then it was bad.
My mom, and the childs father were there then my dad, step-mom(long story, but she raised me with my dad), & her husband showed up for support. I was in excruciating pain, talking them to keep my mind off of it. I was about to cuss someone out if they didn't get me something for the pain. They couldn't even do an ultrasound because I was in so much pain and couldn't stay still. Finally they gave me something which made me sick and made me pass out. My nurse was someone I'd gone to school with, but couldn't remember for some reason. She was wonderful and tried to get me to squeeze her hand even though she had a brace on it. I woke up the next morning wondering where I was. At the age of 23, I had my first overnight hospital visit and was really confused.
I was finally able to go have an ultrasound done and later got the bad news. The baby was stuck in my tubes and never went any further, meaning my pregnancy was ectopic aka tubal. Fathers Day, and I'm telling this man that he's not going to be a father again(this would've been his 2nd child) and telling my dad he's not going to be a grandfather just yet. My dad was so sweet, he brought me my favorite drink from Starbucks in a mug that I still have. I followed up with my OB and was informed they were going to do something new and give me a pill rather than a DNC. It was an outpatient procedure, and one I went through alone.
A few weeks later, on July 4th, I was at a BBQ and started having pains again. The "man" I was with thought I was faking and trying to get attention and ignored me. Most of my family was already at the ER with my aunts(by marriage) dad. The only other person with me besides myself that could drive was my step-mom's husband(he's like a father to me too), so he took me. I was down the hall from where family was in a room, being poked & prodded for blood tests & iv's. The nurse from my previous visit saw my mom and the rest of my family and came to check on me. The doctors weren't sure what was going on, so they told me to follow up.
My step-dad, as I call him, took me to that appointment so that I didn't have to drive in pain. Ultimately, the doctor had to do a DNC. It was extremely painful, but went almost fully away afterwards. It took me a while to heal & during that time I broke up with the guy for various reasons.
I was so fortunate to have family and friends who cared. Even one, who is now my SO, who took me out on HIS birthday and got me completely trashed. It took a lot of strength, a lot of crying on the shoulders of friends & family, and time to heal. I've never fully gotten over it, but it's gotten easier with time......unless I'm constantly reminded of it I tend not to think of it. Yes, I should have an 8 year old child, but I have a wonderful 5(almost 6) year old boy who depends on me. He is my life. Nothing else matters. Because of my previous miscarriage, I waited until I was through the first trimester to tell people I was pregnant with my lil boy. I didn't want to disappoint a whole bunch of people and myself all over again.
I always say things happen for a reason, and once I got the help I needed, I moved on with my life. When something happens, and you continue to wallow around you'll NEVER fully recover and move on....from ANYthing in life.
I know I'm not the only one who's been through this, but if you have and you're not seeking help you should. That's just my opinion. There will be some links below for resources regarding Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Day, as well as info on these sights about how to get support. I fully believe that if I hadn't gotten support/help I'd probably be a full blown alcoholic with a severely damaged liver.
I hope this helps someone understand they're not alone and enlightens those who've not been through this before about what can happen.