Breaking the Silence

I don’t even know how to start…

I’ve been silent for almost a month now and for a very valid reason. I needed the time “alone”.  

We have been trying to have another baby. It’s about time. B is turning 5 this year and I, I’m getting older. So when I missed my period in January, I knew this was it. I took the test. Three times. All of them had the same result. Positive. We’re pregnant!

We didn’t say anything because it was too early. I went to see my doctor and she confirmed that the pregnancy is still in its early stages. In fact, she wasn’t convinced. She says it’s not a viable pregnancy but we kept our hopes up. I took hormones to make sure I don’t lose the baby. I took extra care of myself. Ate all the right things. 

The next two check ups were good. There was improvement based on the ultrasound. And I was feeling all the “pregnancy symptoms”. Nausea. The all day “morning sickness”. 

I dreaded brushing my teeth coz toothpaste makes me gag. It’s that bad. 

Then on March 16, a day after my birthday, my doctor told me that the baby is gone. The sac is present, but there was no longer a baby growing inside of me. 

I was devastated. 

I decided to go home to the Philippines to see my other doctor and to be with my family. If I’m going to lose this baby, I’d rather be with family. So the next day, we flew back home. A few days after that, I got admitted to the hospital for D&C procedure. 

We lost the baby. There was nothing we could have done to prevent it. It was something that just happens. 

The night before the procedure, my OB prepped me. Laminaria Insertion procedure was done to open up my cervix. It hurt. A. Lot. But knowing that I no longer have a baby hurts even more. 

While waiting for my room to be ready, my bed was placed near the nurse’s station. Just by the NICU. I could hear babies crying. I could see happy parents peering at their new-born. 

I cried. 

That was the only moment I had for myself, so I can grieve. I had to get a grip because the moment I was transferred to my room, I had to be ready to face my daughter. I still had to take care of her. I still have to take care of me so I can take care of her. 

This is the last time I’ll write about this. As of now, I’m just trying to go back to “normal”. 

I will never forget. I love you. See you someday.