Since I have been having a really hard time coming up with much to share, I am going to be reviving some of my earliest posts.  These may be some of my more emotional posts as I relive my journey to hopefully help someone else who sadly has traveled, is traveling or will travel a similar journey.  As always, I love comments, thoughts, and questions.   
        Originally posted on 1/7/11
Having Gavin around was a true joy. He was a dream baby who slept like an angel at night, napped well during the day and was generally a content baby whenever he was awake. Doug and I had decided that after a few short months that we were totally ready for another baby to join our family. It took a while for my cycles to get back to normal but as soon as they did we started trying.

A couple of weeks later I was running errands with Gavin and starting realizing that I was feeling...well... different. Could it be? Really? Already? It took us 8 months total to get pregnant with Gavin so... It couldn't be. Could it? I decided to pick up some pregnancy tests. Just in case. When I got home, I couldn't help but test. It was negative.

The next morning I tried again. This time it was undeniably positive. It was faint but it was definitely two pink lines staring back at me. I had tears of utter excitement welling up in my eyes. I was thrilled that I was going to get to enjoy pregnancy all over again. I picked up Gavin who was just 6 months old at the time and spun in circles. We both smiled and giggled. Granted it was for very different reasons but we we two very happy kids at that moment.

Now, to tell Doug! I decided that I was going to make a Big Brother sign for Gavin to hold. I would take a picture and then put it somewhere for Doug to see. I took about 10 pictures and picked my favorite one. I put it in a frame that was in our living room and waited patiently for Doug to come home from work. That was the longest afternoon ever! It is amazing how slow time passes when you have an exciting secret.

When he came home, I waited for him to see the frame. I waited and waited. Finally I started gesturing in that direction. Nothing. Then I decided to sit between him and the picture so that he would have to notice it. I watched his eyes as he talked to me and then I saw them lock on the wall behind me. He walked up to it, read it, and looked at me as shocked as I had been to see the two lines staring back at me. Hugs and a few tears on my part and thus began the journey all over again. We were having a baby!

A couple of weeks later I started spotting. I scoured the internet for stories of hope of spotting during pregnancy and read over and over again that it could be a miscarriage but spotting is quite common in pregnancy. Every site and resource agreed that as long as there wasn't any cramping and it wasn't a heavy flow then it was probably okay. I tried to stay calm and positive. A day or two later the spotting was turning into light bleeding. I decided it was time to call the doctor. The nurse told me that if I was bleeding then I was to go to the ER. So, off we went. I was taken back almost immediately and they ran some blood tests, gave me a urinary catheter so that they could do an ultrasound and check on baby. A little while later they took me to the ultrasound room. I was nervous but hopeful. I should have been just about 6 weeks pregnant at the time. As the technician started the scan she warned me that she would be unable to tell me anything about what she saw. I was so frustrated but I understood why. I watched her face intently hoping to catch a glimpse of her smile or purse her lips in a restrained frown. I saw nothing. It was as if she was reading a page out of the dictionary. After 20 minutes or so of being poked and prodded I was taken back to my room where Doug and I waited for the results.

After close to an hour a male nurse walked in and said, "I bet you are ready to go home!"

"Uh. Yeah. But I would like to know if I am miscarrying before we go."

"What?! The doctor hasn't talked to you yet?" he asked puzzled.

The doctor was then sent in to talk to us. "Congratulations! You are 6 weeks pregnant!" he said with a smile. He went on to explain what I already knew about spotting being common in pregnancy. They did hand me a piece of paper with big bold letter across the top that said "THREATENED MISCARRIAGE". My mouth dropped open and asked the nurse immediately what this was about. He explained that they always give that to anyone who is spotting or bleeding during pregnancy. I was relieved to hear this and was eager to get home to eat some lunch.

Over the next couple of days the bleeding didn't go away. In fact, it was picking up. I called my OB again as I was starting to lose hope. She was not as reassuring as the doctor at the ER was. She, very matter-of-factly, explained to me over the phone that I may be miscarrying. There was nothing we could do but wait. She did schedule me for an appointment a few days later though. I sobbed uncontrollably. I knew it was over but didn't want to let go. I had already envisioned what my life was going to be like with 2 kids. I had imagined this baby growing inside me and kicking me in a few months. I clung to an unrealistic hope that I was going to be one of those very rare success stories where everyone told them they were going to lose the baby but then discover a heartbeat. I would vacillate between thinking that I was still pregnant and utter heartbreaking realization that it was over.

That night I sat on the couch feeling very different. I wasn't sure what it felt like to be bloated but I thought maybe that is what I felt. I decided to go to the computer to google bloating but before I could go there I instantly had to go to the bathroom. I was undeniably losing the baby. I spent the majority of that night in and out of the bathroom. More in than out. I went to the doctor for my appointment and it was confirmed that I had miscarried but had retained some tissue and the sac was still in my uterus. I opted against the D&C and decided to take a series of pills that would make my uterus contract to hopefully expel the remaining tissue.

I went to the grocery store with a tear stained face. I decided that if I was going to take medicine to help me to deliver the tissue, which I had read could be quite uncomfortable, I was going to do what I could to make me feel better. I bought a bottle of red wine, hot dogs (since I wasn't pregnant anymore and could eat them again), dark chocolate, ice cream, and a big package on feminine pads. I think I actually chuckled as I put the items on the conveyor belt. What I sight I must have been.

By the next morning I had passed the tissue and what I presumed to be the sac. I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to flush what should have been my second baby down the toilet so I put it in a plastic bag. Doug and I walked to the top of the hill near our house and dug a hole. We said a prayer and I cried. Again.

We walked back to the house to resume our lives. I knew that we would never be the same after that experience. There was something missing from my heart. There still is.