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I was pregnant. Pregnant with joy, with pure happiness and pregnant with a child. I was regnant with Jade Dean Sanders’ child, and should it have been a boy, we were to name him Clark after Superman. 9 weeks pregnant, I go to the ob/gyn for my ultrasound, expecting to see a heartbeat and a baby that I could call my own. Instead, an empty sack. No heartbeat, no baby I could call my own. No freakin anything…
The doctor says that my uterus only measured at 7 weeks, andthe pregnancy hasn’t developed and so there is no embryo to show for my pregnancy. I leave the office in tears, my heart and soul broken. It was December 28th. So that night goes by, tears and interrupted sleep.
Then comes the next morning, and I get a text from my Aunt Amy. She is concerned, asking me how the pregnancy is going. I tell her what’s going on and she gives me a little spring of hope. February 4th 2012, my Aun gave birth to twins. She told me that when she was 9 weeks, her doctor told her that she was only measuring 7 weeks pregnant and there was no baby. They were going to do an emergency D&C on her and she refused. Thank God, because at 11 weeks not only did they see an embryo, but two! So that was my hope, maybe there were just twins in there. So I get my HcG Levels taken that friday, and again on monday. I offically lost all hope that monday. My HcG Levels had dropped by 600+ units… I knew my pregnancy wasn’t going anywhere.
… So a few days later, I am cramping. I go and sit on the toilet, expecting the worst and a blood clot drops silently into the toilet. (TMI for the next few paragraphs, squeemish turn back now). I thought that was it, I thought the sack has been released and I can go back to being a miserable teenager again. But I was wrong.
Wednesday, January 9 2013…
It’s 4:15 in the morning and I am cramping so bad, I can’t see straight. I can barely walk, I can barely breathe. I start drawing water for a bath and sit naked on the toilet, for fear of falling over with pain. When the tub is filled with hot water and Dora bubbles, I step in and relax for about 15 minutes. Then the pain comes back. And this pain is something I have never felt in 18 years. Compared to brain surgery recovery pains, this was getting stabbed repeatedly in the uterus with a dull machete. So I clench my eyes and fists tight and let out a small yelp… and open them.
the bath had gone from clear water and bubbles-to a horror flick bathtub of blood.