When they told me my baby was dead

02/08/2017

As you get to know me with some of my posts, I am feeling very grateful that I already had my first life coaching client because of the blog. We did it through WhatsApp, and it felt amazing to help someone else. As I get to know so much about my clients’ lives, this is the way they will know about mine. So this post is about a little glimpse of my motherhood story and how it started.

When I married my husband in May 2003, I told him I didn’t want kids. In spite of him loving kids so much, he respected that from me. After 4 years in the marriage I felt kind of bored, and I asked my husband my always honest and painful questions: “Is this it? Is this marriage?” He nicely answered: “Well sweetie, we might need to add some new adventures to our life, and a great way to do it is to increase the family.” I guess I was ready to take that answer as many of my friends were having babies, and you know how it is, it can become contagious. So I agreed to start planning.

It was 2007, and since I believed that I could manifest what I really wanted, I started doing it. I said I wanted to lose 20 pounds and do something adventures before my life would change forever. We planned our trip to Peru to do the 4-day Inca Trail hike in July 2007. As some of you have experienced, as soon as I told people I planned to get pregnant, everybody came with their unsolicited advice. I heard, “Don’t get your hopes up.” “You have been on the pill for quite a bit; you might take time to get pregnant.” “And when you have that baby you will be so in love that you will be crazy about him.” “And how beautiful is to breastfeed since you bond even more.” “Your life will become a little overwhelmed and you won’t have the freedom you did back then.” Also having a history of endometriosis, there was not a lot of hope in pregnancy happening soon.

As the stubborn Scorpio person that I am, I really didn’t like people telling me what was going to happen. They didn’t know me. I would make it happen no matter what. So I had some request for my doctors: I asked to have a c-section. Even before I got pregnant I planned that because in my head I don’t understand how a human being is going to come out from that hole!!! And another one was I did not plan to breastfeed at all.

Can you imagine when I said that out loud? Judging eyes on me!!! Knowing I could do whatever I wanted (I know it sounds really selfish), I went ahead and scheduled sex in my calendar. Yes, you heard me well, I did it. Ovulation time, here I come!!

To my surprise, I got pregnant as soon as we tried. And it looks like it was in Cuzco, Peru. Back in Denver, I bought many pregnancy tests because I really couldn’t believe it. After 3 of them came back positive, we went to Planned Parenthood just to double check. And yes! Congratulations me!!! I was pregnant. Wow, I got surprised, and I shared the news here in the US and back in Peru.

As soon as I found out the good news, I made an appointment with a counselor. I wanted to make sure I was not going to be those parents sacrificing every single thing in their lives to please their kids and complaining all over. So I started counseling, and I am so happy I did. She told me, “Your baby will be the guest and will follow your rules.” I liked that, so I continued with my counselor:).

Around 7 weeks pregnant, I started to have this awful pain. I swear it felt like contractions, but how the hell would I know if I had never been pregnant. I got worried and called the doctor’s office. Of course you never talk to the doctor; they made me talk to a nurse who said, “It is normal. It is your first time.
Don’t be afraid.” But the pain continued, so instead of calling I actually went in and asked for an explanation, but again no answers. Hum...what to do now? I remember I contacted my doctor in Peru who said, ”I think you are losing your baby. You need a progesterone shot.” Smart me, I called the doctor, and the nurse told me, “You might be right, but since it is your first pregnancy we are going to let nature run its course.” What? That can’t be right. So I called my best friend who has 2 kids and according to me she is an amazing mother and knows everything. So we actually went together to the doctor again. She went in to the consultation with me to get answers, and we came out from that consultation more confused than when we arrived.

Knowing that something might be wrong, my everything-happens-for-a-reason started to kick in, and I just waited to see what destiny had for me. One night my husband was working until late. I remember being alone at home, and the “contractions” came again, but a little bit more often and sharper than usual. It was 10pm, and I called the doctor who told me to rush to the ER. When my pain stopped, I was able to drive and get myself to the ER.

When I got there, they quickly did lots of tests, ultrasounds, etc. My husband shortly arrived. Together we received the news from the doctor: “I am sorry to tell you that your baby is dead.” My husband asked me if I was ok, and I said yes. And I really was ok. I guess with so much pain I suspected something was wrong, and to be honest I was glad my pain would be gone when the doctors gave me these powerful pills.

I shared the news, and here it came: everybody telling me how sorry they were and that maybe I would have better luck when I try again and how miserable I must be feeling. That part of having a miscarriage was the worst, and there I was feeling guilty because I was fine. Am I not normal? Am I the worst parent? Why am I not devastated?

I had to make an appointment 3 days later to get back in the hospital and get a DNC done. That weekend I just stayed at home and ate all the unhealthy things I kind of deprived myself when I knew I was pregnant. I overdid it with Diet Coke, coffee, and all the junk food. I tried to find answers as to why this happened and made peace with it. I know this happened because my baby was going to be sick, so it was better that he was not even born: that is what I told myself to be in peace with the truth.

After 3 days, my husband asked for the day off to go with me to get the procedure done. I was just relieved that this was going to be over and also I was very sure that I didn’t want to try to get pregnant again. I got tested a lot again, and also I had to sign so many papers, like whether my baby would be buried or cremated. Really? Oh well, I picked buried. As I am all set to get the procedure done, my doctor just gets in the room running and says, “Wait! Something is not adding up with her numbers; let’s do a last ultrasound to make sure.”

As so convinced I was that this was the best that had to happen, I heard my doctor say, “I hear a heartbeat.” What the hell, really? Are you kidding me? Is this Candid Camera? Is this real? As doctors had smiles on them and said they never experienced something like that before, I was pissed. Everybody celebrating except me!

Wow, that was unexpected. But what happened next is morning sickness came to say hello to me every day for the next 3 months. I couldn’t keep my eyes open and my bladder shut. I hated to be pregnant; it was depressing for me, especially because everybody assumed I was happy. And when I dared to share my feelings, I swear people didn’t even acknowledge it. It was a very sad time for me.

What did I love about pregnancy? The attention I got at work, the amount of gifts my clients gave me, the support of my doctor, going to counseling, decorating the baby room and the amazing baby shower that my family-in-law threw for me. My request was that my baby shower had to have booze. It was amazing! And I think that kind of helped me to get ready mentally that this was going to happen.

As I didn’t want to bore you with a long blog, I will share later my motherhood journey, the ups and downs and my unattachment parenting style. All I know now is that I am not alone as I know the majority of women love and enjoy those 9 months, but there are also some women that don’t. They don’t share about it just because they are afraid of being different and being judged because society has put the expectations so high for motherhood that some have made that decision to walk alone in this. But I am happy to tell you that...

You are not alone

Me