Bittersweet

I had a D&C today. I had a D&C today. Saying it & writing it don't connect in my brain. I was pregnant 2 days ago. Or at least, I thought I was.

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I have had a really great week. Some of my favorite people in the world are here. They are here to celebrate my girl. Did you know that my blonde-haired, blue/green-eyed baby doll is 2 years old today? Today. Two years ago, I had the perfect little girl in the world. The perfect baby from Jesus. He gave me more than I ever dreamed I wanted in that girl. She's mine & I'm hers. Forever. Tomorrow, we celebrate her. We celebrate gooood 'round here. Nothing is thrown together here. We plan, Pinterest & raid Hobby Lobby for all kinds of crap to trick out our house for this girl. I live for this stuff. We celebrate big. You love hard, you party hard. It's our motto. We're the Rosenbohms: we love fiercely & we celebrate each other fiercely.

My nieces & nephew came in early in the week to spend time with the family. Let me tell you, I can't get enough of these dolls. They love us & we love them. Fiercely. They love my girl. And oh, how that endears my heart to people. When you love the girl who has stolen my heart, buddy, you will be loved & adored. Fiercely. We spent lots of time going out, having fun, giggling, eating, eating again, & then coming home for some 'nuggles with the baby & Olympics.

Two nights ago, we had a big dinner, & started to make our way downstairs for Olympics. We queued up the DVR, & I headed to the bathroom before we got started. Blood. I saw blood. My heart was pounding in my ears. With tears in my eyes, I walked out & told Josh that I needed to go to the hospital. I was ok. I saw & heard this little baby's heartbeat. We were ok. This was going to be ok. We left our sleepy girl with her grandparents, & quietly headed to the hospital. I had no intention of telling people because this was going to be a night that we wouldn't even remember. I wasn't worried. I told my persons that I needed texting me constantly, & we headed out quietly.

We were admitted immediately - they tend to do that with a crazy, hysterical, mascara-melted face, pregnant girl. Getting situated into our room, we turned on the tv & waited. Blood work, ultrasound, waiting. I wasn't bleeding, so I was confident. This happens sometimes. It was in the ultrasound that I knew. Hot, fresh tears started to slide down my cheeks. After the ultrasound tech lovingly told me she couldn't see my uterus because I was gassy, we switched to the internal. I knew. I watched her face. I watched Josh's face. He saw our baby, but wasn't sure about a heartbeat. My heart stopped. Our baby was gone.

After an excruciating hour of waiting, our doctor, who looked like a lion, came in. He sat down quietly & told me my quants were too low, & our baby no longer had a heartbeat. Our little one had passed 2 weeks ago. I cried, but just the pretty cries that you do in front of strangers. I waited til Dr. Lion left the room, & the first of many waves of grief washed over me. My heart was breaking. I was miscarrying a 3rd baby. This couldn't possibly be my story. My story is supposed to be 3 perfect little blonde babies all in a row. My story is supposed to be happiness. Not more heartache. This was not supposed to be my damn story.

I dressed myself, got in the car & called my mom. That's what you do when things go to hell - mom always knows what to say. But who really knows what to say. There's nothing to say. That's where friends come in - they tell that this sucks & then they buy you junk food. That's why I have Kylie. Kylie always knows what to do & say.

I slept fitfully, waking up for a good cry every hour or so, then woke up early. I needed to tell people. I didn't want to. This makes you feel like you are inadequate. Like you did something wrong. It's not true, but that's how it makes you feel. I missed my girl, & I needed to hold her, so I went to Dennis & Cyndi's to have some coffee & 'nuggle. It was a long, hard, weepy day. This was the beginning of hard core grief. I saw that baby's heart. This one was supposed to be ok. I was supposed to have a baby in March. After phone calls to the doctor, & a long conversation with my cousin, we made the decision that this was going to be too much for me to do on my own. I needed to have a D&C. And I had to do it before my girl's big birthday bash.

While our sleepy little town was still dark, I woke up for one of the most emotionally draining & heartbreaking days I have ever experienced. I had to shave my legs, obviously. And I needed mascara. I was nervous, but ok. You know how Meredith & Christina are each other's person? Well, I had my people. I had my net - they catch me when I can't stand anymore. Once they got me into my room & started asking me questions, a rogue wave of grief hit me. Hard. This was it, no going back. This pregnancy was going to end today. No more daydreaming of newborn smells, of wrinkly baby toes, & cul-de-sac hair. This was it. I quietly answered questions, fresh, hot tears streaming down again. They wheeled me back, as I started to get loopy.

I woke up crying. Weeping. It was over. I wasn't pregnant anymore. My baby was gone. The nurse scolded me for wearing mascara on a day like today. Are you kidding? You can't look ugly for surgery. What if Patrick Dempsey was back there? Duh, nurse. I groggily started waking up. Josh came & sat with me, laughing hysterically at the ridiculous crap that was flying out of my mouth: "I think I could be a drug addict."

It's mid-afternoon, & I've rested most of the day. My net is keeping me close & occupied. The grief is awful today, but it will be better soon. I keep saying "I've done this before, I can do it again." This one hurts more. I can't believe this is happening again. I saw the heartbeat. How the hell did I get here? Again?

Can I tell you something amazing? I have never, even with past miscarriages, ever felt so loved & adored. I am overwhelmed by the flowers, & text messages, & phone calls. My net is catching me. We're the Rosenbohms: we love fiercely. And I am being loved back fiercely. My heart squeezes with every encouraging word. Every tear shed with me. God gave me what I needed. My family & friends are rocking my world. Jesus really loves me. He gave me this incredible group of people that know what to say, or to just keep their mouths shut, or to weep with me.

Today is bittersweet. My precious girl is 2. My other baby is gone. I'm happy to have a large, colorful, over-the-top, 2-year-old's birthday party to throw tomorrow. There will be tears, big, giant, happy tears mixed with tears of grief. It's going to be a journey, but I've done it before...I can do it again.

a.