I had a really good first 8 1/2 weeks, just very tired and hungry, but really if you know me, you know this is totally normal. I was so excited to also be pregnant with one of my best friends, just weeks behind her. It was so fun to have her to share every step of the way with, talking sore boobs & our pants starting to get snug.
A couple days before my first check up at 9 weeks, I started spotting and tried not to panic. I knew some spotting was normal but the longer it went on throughout the weekend, the less hopeful I felt. By Monday afternoon, I had started to naturally pass the baby. It was awful. I tried to remain optimistic because I have had friends have miracle babies through worse. But ultimately, our babe was gone that day. It was awful. Two days before Christmas, the day I should have been 9 weeks, we said good bye to our little bug.
I am far enough away from that day now to think a little bit more clearly, and process the pain as much as possible for now. I see God's tender hand in it all, protecting me, sheltering me, and healing me through it all. I was so sad to not have seen our baby in utero at all, but in that same thought, I am so deeply thankful to not have had to have seen the baby there lifeless. I am thankful that my body did it's job in letting my baby go peacefully and that I didn't have to have a D&C on top of everything.
Processing it all has been the weirdest of it all. You are just so sad. There isn't really a better way of saying it. I did feel some anger, but mainly just a huge heaping pile of sadness. I think in the beginning, I was angry that I wasn't pregnant and that I would get pregnant again. I didn't want to start all over again, I wanted to be 10 weeks next Monday. Obviously, not being realistic at that moment. I realized that it wasn't about the baby, that feeling was selfishly just for me. The aching hurt of the loss of that baby is deeper and more complex than the part of me that stomps her foot and says, "No! I want it now." That deeper part of the ache of a loss is still a mystery that I wind through each day, trying to learn something as I go.