Baby B...Forever in Our Hearts
March 11th we got a positive pregnancy test. March 12th, another positive test. March 15th, confirmation from the blood test at the doctors that I was definitely pregnant. Even after this confirmation, it still hadn’t sunk in immediately. I didn’t react the way I thought I would when I’d find out. It was a bit of shock, disbelief. This was only our second cycle trying. After my myomectomy in September 2020, where 11 fibroids and 4 cysts were removed, I mentally prepared for a long and trying journey of trying to conceive. It couldn’t be that only after our second cycle, we were pregnant! My therapist once said to me, “When the brain and body have gone through much suffering, the brain prepares to receive more of it.” It’s like an army, ready for war, at any time. My brain, ready for the suffering. Bring it on. Suffering we know. Joy? Not as of late. Therefore, when it was confirmed that we were pregnant after our second cycle trying, I had a hard time accepting it.
As the days went on, I downloaded baby apps to help me track...yes of course I had to download 3, because why not? My husband even downloaded some on his phone. I purchased a beautiful pregnancy journal to have a place to record my experience. I continued taking my prenatal vitamins and paid more attention to what I was eating/not eating. I downloaded the Peanut app to be in community with other moms-to-be. I started following accounts on IG related to pregnancy. We shared the news with immediate family and close friends. Day by day, it sunk in a bit more. Baby B (B = Bentsi-Enchill), was growing in me. I began talking to Baby B. I began to feel that I wasn’t alone in my body anymore. We began to rearrange our room (in our minds) and imagine where baby things would go. We began to imagine a world with Baby B in it.
We arrived at our first ultrasound appointment excited and expectant. Hoping to see an image that though hard to make out, would be our baby. Hoping to hear a heartbeat. After all, we were at the end of our 7 weeks, about to make 8 weeks the day after our appointment. The technician puts the cold jelly on my lower belly and presses down with the tool (idk the name of it). She says “here’s the yolk sack.” Enters the other tool inside me and is moving it around and typing things into her computer. I see F1 & F2 on the screen. Turns out I have 1 more fibroid than I thought. But then she says, “here’s the baby!” Relief. There’s actually something in me. It sinks in more. No heartbeat though, and no mention of it.
Next is the appointment with the doctor. We had been reading up on what the first trimester appointment would be like. Lots of exams, checking, questions, bloodwork. So I was ready for all of it. Instead the nurse takes my vitals and tells us to wait for the doctor. “Should I undress?” I ask. “No, just wait for the doctor.” she replies. We wait. Doctor comes in after a while and tells us that the baby is measuring earlier than expected, 6 weeks only. There’s also no heartbeat detected. I have to come in next week to see if there’s been any growth and to see if we can detect a heartbeat. If not, it would be considered a non-viable pregnancy, a miscarriage. Woah. Hard to hear those words as a first-time mom. “We have to get bloodwork done today in the case it is a miscarriage.” Dag, really? Tears swell up in my eyes. I knew it was too easy. My amazing husband tries to lift me up and shares a different perspective. “Maybe we just came too early? Things take time to develop. By next week, so much growth can happen.” I tell him I want a burger...food brought some comfort.
Next week comes, we find ourselves in the same room with the same technician. She does the same exams. Yet remains quiet the whole time. No, “here’s this” and “here’s that” on the screen. I see her typing F3, F4, F5 and so forth. I ask, “so do I have more fibroids?” “This is one” she replies, not giving me the full answer. The rest of our time there, silence. Just her moving the tool inside of me around, looking at her screen, and typing away. When she’s done she tells me to get dressed and go up for my doctor’s appointment. I ask her as she’s leaving the room, “Is everything okay?” She replies, “the doctor will explain it all to you.” Not very promising. I told my husband that this doesn’t feel or sound or look good. We go upstairs and wait for the doctor. “No growth. No heartbeat. Miscarriage.” The only words that stuck. Everything else she said sounded like mumbling. It was like my mind blocked it out. Thank God my husband was there to keep record of what she said and what the next steps would be. We asked what could’ve caused it. She mentioned possible chromosomal errors. The body notices something isn’t right, and it discontinues the growth. Sigh. See? I told ya’ll it was too easy. Struggle and suffering, here we go.
That day, I came home and wept. The next day, more weeping. “This happened because I wasn’t fully connected to the baby from the beginning. What did I do to cause this? Why would God let this happen? Maybe I don’t deserve good things.” these thoughts flowed through my mind. Even worse ones not worth mentioning. I was in such a negative space. So grateful for my husband who continuously supports me, and with such patience and grace listens, and when the timing is appropriate offers a more positive outlook. The next day, I wept some more. The day after, I took a long walk in the park. I journaled. I purchased 5 books. I ate a whole cup of ice cream from ColdStone. Just letting myself feel all the feels, without judgment. One of the books I purchased is on grief, It’s OK That You’re NOT OK, by Megan Devine. It’s been really helpful so far. One of my favorite quotes so far in the book was so validating “Grief is part of love. Love for life, love for self, love for others. What you are living, painful as it is, is love. And love is really hard. Excruciating at times.” We had so much love already for Baby B. To lose someone you’ve never met, yet felt so close to. Such a different experience. Nothing like I’ve ever experienced before.
So here we are. Here I am. D&C* procedure completed. All physical remnants of Baby B gone. All the emotional ones still here. I’m slowly accepting that I do deserve good things. Bad things just happen sometimes. Yet through it all, I know I am not alone. In the same way I did when I found out I was pregnant, I followed pages on social media that were related to miscarriage and loss of baby. I’ve felt the strong presence of my family and wonderful friends. I’ve had women around me share their stories of loss and now feel a stronger connection to them. My husband and I have one more chapter to add to our story. So much love and prayers sent our way. God’s love displayed through all of it.
I don’t know what the future holds for us. I am working on being as present as I can for myself. Being intentional about my self-care, now more than ever. Knowing that my life will never be the same. Baby B came quickly, and soon after left. However, a space in my heart holds Baby B so dear to me.
Baby B, we love you always. Your Momma T & Daddy Nii <3
*A dilation and curettage procedure, also called a D&C, is a surgical procedure in which the cervix (lower, narrow part of the uterus) is dilated (expanded) so that the uterine lining (endometrium) can be scraped with a curette (spoon-shaped instrument) to remove abnormal tissues. (HopkinsMedicine.Org)