Small Bump

5 Feb

My fiance (now husband)  was getting ready to go back to New Mexico for six months of hard wildland firefighting.  We thought, “Hey, let’s give it a shot.  Chances are we won’t get pregnant.”  Two weeks later, I was camped out in the bathroom at my parents’ house anxiously waiting for something to show up.  20 seconds….45 seconds…

“Is it really going to take the entire two minutes,” I impatiently thought.  Nope.  Another few seconds passed and there they were – two dark pink lines. I was officially PREGNANT!  YES!  This was one of the moments I was born for!  I had long dreamed of becoming a mother.  As a little girl, I dreamed of having ten kids and running a home daycare (I have since realized the craziness in that fantasy).

My fiance was in the middle of the wilderness, so I couldn’t call him just yet.  I, naturally, called my sister.  My best friend.  I told her she was going to be an aunt and she was so confused that I had to repeat it at least twice.  “What?!” she finally exclaimed!  I then told my parents and three of my close girlfriends.  That night, I shared the joyous news with my man, who was extremely happy!

On cloud nine, I went about my normal routine.  It was on a Tuesday I began to feel something was amiss.  I curled up on the couch with my mom as she rubbed my back, reassuring me that spotting doesn’t always mean something terrible.  A few looooong hours later, the spotting turned into full fledged bleeding.  Terrified, I called my doctor.  She advised me that I could be “losing the pregnancy.”  I whimpered, “You mean my baby! I’m losing my baby!”  Because I couldn’t take anything stronger than Tylenol, in case I wasn’t miscarrying, my mom and I climbed into bed together and prepared for the worst.  Pain.  Lots of pain.  And the blood, oh the heartbreaking sight of the blood!  I was temporarily rescued by falling into a deep sleep for about five hours.

By 9:00am Wednesday morning I was solemnly driving to the doctor’s office to have a blood test done to confirm the miscarriage.  I sat in the waiting room with one very pregnant woman, two newborns and several other toddlers.  That was the most agonizing five minutes of my life.

“Robyn? You can come back now,” said the nurse. The eight-months pregnant nurse.

I cried for the next three hours and then got the call.  Confirmed.  My baby was gone.

Shattered.  Devastated. Heartbroken.

With the support of amazing family and friends, I mourned the loss of my angel baby and managed to maintain hope and joy.  But, I missed my baby.  The one that only I knew, that only I got to hold within my womb, the one that only I felt.  To this day, as I sit typing this story with my sweet, 7-month old climbing on me like a monkey, I miss my angel baby.  I will always love you, angel.

In the words of Ed Sheeran “Cause you were just a small bump unborn for four months then torn from life. Maybe you were needed up there but we’re still unaware as why.”

Full song here: Small Bump

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