I think the first was just plain sadness, an overwhelming sadness that I've never felt before.
Then came the anger. Why is this happening to me? How could we go through SO much and end up here, losing our baby?
Next came fear- if this pregnancy isn't viable, it is somehow going to have to leave my body... how can I bare to watch that happen? Am I physically, emotionally, mentally strong enough to do this?
Then came the emptiness where just a week ago was overflowing, the joy that once was here for one perfectly amazing week, is now replaced with the feeling of nothing, emptiness.
Followed by a feeling I'm not sure how to name- maybe robbed it fitting. I'm so mad that now after all we've gone through, seeing two lines will never again bring the same simple joy that it did a week and a half ago. Even a positive beta won't leave me jumping (carefully) for joy. I will forever be waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the bad news to come. For someone to tell me my baby is going to die.
I've always said that infertility leaves a person jaded... this experience brings that to a whole new level.
If I'm being completely and totally honest, in the past I've felt like women who are either having a miscarriage or have had one were a little dramatic. I guess I was always coming from that idea of, it wasn't meant to be, or it wouldn't have been a healthy baby. I'm here to tell you, I was wrong and I'm sorry, so sorry I ever thought that. This is not something you can't even imagine unless you've gone though it. It is about a million times more painful than I could have ever thought.
Women (or at least I'm guessing most women and surely the vast majority of infertile women) fall in love with their growing baby from the moment they know its inside of them. Healthy, or unhealthy it doesn't really matter- that baby is growing inside of them and will someday, hopefully, be birthed from their body and become all the things they've dreamed about. The tiny pitter-patter of feet running down the hall, shrieks and giggles coming from the backyard, bedtime hugs and kisses or most simply the person that will make them a mommy.
Miscarriage is like having all of that ripped from your hands... from your tight grip... while you scream and cry... and wish for nothing more than for someone to give it all back.
But they don't.
And they won't.
At least not this time.