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Again, not so much about Remi but about her siblings.

This one will be a bit more intense because the wound is still so fresh… I will start this story with my first visit to my new and amazing high risk & infertility ob/gyn. It was a visit to start getting my body prepared for next year because that was the year we wanted to try for another little one and with infertility, you have to start preparing early. I will not go into details about the hormones and route we went but I will say that we started a process with a type of birth control. After 3 weeks of following my doctors instructions, nothing was happening but I didn’t read much into it until… the smell of food made me nauseous. I thought to myself, ” there’s no way!” I waited 2 more days and nothing. So we made a trip to cvs, took the test and those two pink lines showed up! All I told Ryan was, “what did you do to me?!” We literally freaked out and could not believe it! Once it sinked in, we started getting excited. We even told Remi she was going to be a big sister!!! Her reaction? She cried!! We called the doctors office that upcoming Monday and he wanted to see me ASAP!

Fast forward a little over a week later, on a Thursday…..

Our baby’s first appointment! He/she was 6 weeks that day! We were afraid of bad news because I had already started spotting. We were taken into a room where I was told to put on a gown and “let’s look at this little baby.” What mother wouldn’t be excited to see their baby on a screen?! So I hurried and got ready to see our little bundle of joy! There was a flat screen mounted in front of the bed so we could see what the ultrasound tech saw on her screen. She quickly found our little one. It was heartwarming to see him/her. So little. So alien like and then the best thing an expecting mother can hear come out of a techs mouth, “there’s his/her heartbeat!” That beautiful, tiny flicker! Tears flooded my eyes. My baby was ok. He/she was strong. He/she was where he/she needed to be. I felt a tidal wave of emotions hit me. I was going to hold this baby in my arms one day. He/she was an unexpected miracle that we thought would take a lot of hard work to have but there that baby was. Thriving and holding on. The ultrasound tech called in the doctor to look at my cysts that my uterus and ovaries like to harvest to make sure they wouldn’t be a bother to the growing baby. The doctor was not worried and then he says, “I knew this was going to happen because your blood work showed you had just ovulated the day of your first visit!” Who would’ve known?! My body finally decided to ovulate after 2 years of no ovulation. My doctor assured me that the baby was fine and as long as it was just spotting that he wasn’t worried. I went on my happy way home with a picture of my baby with me and the memory of his flickering little, tiny heart.

The next day, it was no longer just spotting and by Saturday it was beyond normal pain and bleeding. We went to the ER where, again, nothing was done except for blood work. My hcg levels were still high so they didn’t want to mess with anything meaning I was going to have to endure the pain of it all because they did not prescribe me anything in the chance that the baby was still hanging on. (My doctor was not happy with this when I told him about that visit.) So we came home where I tried to relax and ignore the pain….. The pain actually got stronger and when it came to that point of excoriating pain that had me screaming and those chills, I knew. My mind flashed back to my twins. To that pain. To that sadness. My mom rushed over and helped to ease the pain. I told her, “It’s whatever God’s will is, mom and I am just going to let my body do what it needs to do. Nothing can be done to save my baby.” I laid there, crying from both the emotional and physical pain. I kept hope that he/she would make it. I spent the weekend in pain with no way of making it go away. No way of taking care of Remi and no way of having the ability to even hug her.

On Monday, Remi had an appointment in Dallas so my parents drove us there and they did all the “Remi caring”. They carried her and sat with her during her appointment. I was still in pain but a mother does what they have to do for their babies. On our way back home, we stopped at ihop. Again, I will spare the bloody details and just say…. He/she was gone and so was the physical pain. It didn’t quite sink in. I was quiet and just thoughtful on our way to the hospital. I called Ryan and of course, he met us there. I was quickly admitted and put into a room. I knew the routine: put on a gown, go in a pan for excess tissue, get checked down there and have an ultrasound. I felt numb. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or be mad! I didn’t know if I should scream or just not think about it. They put me on an IV and gave me doses of morphine. I had both my mom and Ryan by my side. My dad and little sister had taken Remi to eat then shopping. By then, I was too drugged up to feel any emotion. I was glad for that. I didn’t have to think about how my body had deceived me. How it had taken away our joy that we so happily shared with everyone. How once again, it failed to keep my baby safe! Having an ultrasound done just 4 days after seeing the heartbeat to seeing nothing there anymore almost broke me. It’s like being given your most favorite thing in this world and then, it was taken away forever. You could never again have that thing. At least not in this earth.

By that evening, Ryan and I came home to grab some clothes (we were going to stay with my parents for a while. For my sake at least.) where I finally broke down. Broke down with so much hurt that all Ryan could do was hug me. Hug me and tell me, “we will make it through, again.” For the rest of that week, I laid in bed, took my meds and drifted to sleep. I couldn’t mentally be a mother to my daughter. The greatest joy of my life is being a mother and this loss completely broke me. Remi was not interested in being around me. My mom took over the role that was mine because she knew I just needed time to mourn and grieve for my unborn child that she herself held in her hand until we got to the hospital. She even said goodbye to him/her when they took the gestational sac and the baby for testing. I cried silent tears hearing her tell him/her goodbye because all I wanted to do was be able to hold him/her. My mom was my supporter while Ryan was working. Then Ryan would take over. They tried making sure I ate and that I was getting out of bed once in a while. I would go a day or so without eating because i wanted my body to hurt for what it did to me.

Finally, four days later, I got up early with Remi, and I spent that entire day being her mother. I did the feeding, the diaper changes, the playing, the everything like I use to. That’s when God pointed out to me that she is still here and I have to be strong for this little girl who needed me. All of me! It’s hard to confess my lack of being 100% there for Remi. It’s hard to even think that I let myself wallow that deeply. But I did. I cried for my baby. I cried because my uterus no longer housed a baby. I cried because I no longer felt my pregnancy symptoms. I cried because we no longer had this new baby to look forward to,

We have gotten through this loss but we are still hurting. I’m afraid to be asked how I’m doing for the fear of breaking down right then and there. I am learning to keep myself and my mind busy at all times and completely focusing on Remi. Tonight, I let her fall asleep watching her shows because I wanted to hold her in my arms and when I did I realized that I will not hold my babies in this lifetime. I will never rock them to sleep or sing to them Remi’s song, “you are my sunshine”. I will never feel their kicks nor know their cries. Nor will I see them sleep, crawl, walk, lose their first tooth or anything. My body feels so empty. It’s missing something that was suppose to be there for 40 weeks. Sometimes, I forget that I no longer have my child within me and for that split second I’m happy and then it hits me. He/she is gone. I told Ryan that I’m happy I got to sing “you are my sunshine” song before he/she left us. I have told God to just take care of them because I will be there soon to be able to hug them and not let go. To sing to them and tell them how much I love them from the moment I found out they were sharing my body with me. I yearn for that day, but for now, I’m here to raise Remi and for a purpose that God has for me.

These are very emotional moments in our lives. It’s a personal experience that I have chose to share with you. An experience that many women do not share because people say if the baby isn’t born, then it is not a baby. That their babies are insignificant but that’s the greatest lie that has hurt so many hearts. If you ever carried life in your womb, you are a mother and that is YOUR baby! I write these experiences in honor of our twins who we loved and lost on December 4, 2010 and for our most recent angel that met God too soon on October 13, 2014. My heart aches to hold them everyday….