Today marks two years since the loss of my first angel. At this time, two years ago, we were told that our betas were not doubling and a miscarriage was imminent. Our ultrasound showed a sac that was two weeks behind where it should've been and no fetal pole could be seen. If I didn't miscarry on my own, they could give me a shot of methotrexate or do a D&C. Sure enough, my spotting turned to heavy, bright red blood. My baby was gone, just as quickly as he/she had come. My firstborn - who I never held. I never got to see their face or tell them how much I love them.
At the time, we were not actively TTC, although we were "not preventing" for most of our relationship. As a matter of fact, I had just started birth control pills the month before to regulate my cycles. I was going for 3 months without a period and since we had just become engaged, we wanted to make sure I was ovulating regularly before officially TTC. Imagine our surprise when we found out we were expecting. Pleasantly surprised - thrilled actually - but we were not planning on it happening so soon. At first, we wondered what everyone would think. We weren't yet married (although it was in the works) and we didn't want to have a shotgun wedding. I was finishing up my last semester in college. The timing wasn't great - but is it ever great? Things could always be better, right? After we had time to process our future, the fear melted away to thoughts of being parents. Giving birth to a baby. A piece of each of us, created through love. The other stuff just didn't seem important anymore. And we began to make plans - preparing for our little one. Those dreams were obviously short-lived.
Even though I only had a week to bond with my baby, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I shed so many tears that I couldn't even leave the house without being stared at as though I were a domestic abuse victim. Thoughts of my lost angel consumed me. I thought that maybe he/she was taken from me because they weren't planned. So many people told me that "it just wasn't my time" that I began to believe it. I felt guilty, as if we should have been more careful. Maybe we should have used condoms in addition to the birth control. Then this wouldn't have happened. I got the whole "something was probably wrong with the baby" speech. Again, I felt guilty. I felt that I somehow caused our baby to have a chromosomal defect by taking birth control. And then the kicker "well, you weren't that far along". As if that made one f--king bit of difference. It was like because it happened so early, it didn't count. I felt guilty for grieving over my loss at 3-5 weeks (who knows exactly when the baby stopped growing) when there are women out there losing babies in their second or third trimesters or beyond. Obviously, most of those comments came from fertiles.
Eventually, I came to accept my loss. It was a fluke, the doctor said. These things just happen sometimes and there are no explanations . I never expected it to happen again. Now, two years later, I am grieving over another loss.
And I still feel guilty.
We were actually trying for this baby. For 15 months to be exact. We were a good bit further along with this pregnancy so I had more time to bond. DH even had time to bond. We nicknamed the baby "Snowflake". Our betas were much better and we even got to see a heartbeat this time. And if all was well, we'd be finding out the gender this week.
I feel guilty that our first baby was a bit "jipped". DH wasn't as close to our first so he didn't grieve as I did. Yet he grieves tremendously over Snowflake. We didn't get the same support from family and friends that we did this time around. I didn't blog about my earliest loss. I almost feel as though I don't acknowledge him/her enough. As if my most recent loss affects me more or is more painful. This probably sounds ridiculous but I honestly feel that, in a way, our first angel has become secondary. We don't even have a nickname for him/her. And I feel like shit because of it. I don't want our angel to be looking down and thinking we are playing favorites. I wish I could hold him/her and show them how loved they are. How I wish things could be different and we could be together again.
I suppose comparing the two losses is like comparing apples to oranges. While they are two babies that I have lost, they each have their own special place in my heart. Neither spot is larger or deeper than the other. I miss my babies the same, even if I grieve differently for them. I wish I had them both here with me. I wish I had a 15 month old baby and another on the way. I wish I could press my first angel against me and smell their hair - you know that baby smell. I wish I could be chasing after them as they start becoming mobile. I wish I could live out the dreams I had two years ago. I still see things as they should've been - memories and visions that never truly existed except for in my heart.
Thankfully, Mel has opened up the virtual lushary. I've already had a blue angel but tonight, I'll take a chocolate martini. Since I've had too many sour punches in life, it is time for some sweetness. I believe I'll be the saddest girl to ever hold a martini.*
*I'll buy a round for anyone who can tell me what movie this came from - AND the actor/actress to say it.