Not [yet] a Mommy: Memoirs of my Miscarriage.

Chapter 2: HEARTBEAT

We started trying for a baby in January 2017, and by February 2017 we were pregnant. When I took the pregnancy test, Rudy was out walking the dog. I just took it because my period was like a day late, but at this point in our journey I had not yet been haunted by the task that taking a pregnancy test has now become. I was so naïve, to think that I could just plan on when I'd have a baby. And quite honestly after just trying for a month, it seemed like everything was working out according to plan.

The women in my family have been affected by miscarriage, but honestly those very early days I never thought it could happen to me. I was relatively healthy, my blood pressure was always normal, I slept enough, I was not overweight, so I figured everything was just supposed to work out right?

I did not find a cute clever way to tell Rudy that my pregnancy test was positive. Nothing like in the cute videos you see on Facebook. I can't ever really keep a secret from him; I am not a patient person. Once I know something, I just blurt it all out to him, he knows my deepest thoughts, my biggest dreams, my craziest ventures, he just knows it all. He walked in the house and I just showed him the test, we hugged and kissed in our kitchen. I just remember feeling super happy. Complete.

I am a planner, so I quickly made an OB/GYN appointment. I wore cute floral shorts, a yellow top, and my favorite sandals. My sister went with me because she's my best friend besides Rudy, and at that point she was one of the only people who knew. It was your standard first appointment, I peed in a cup. I got a "Congratulations!" folder with all the instructions. I was surprised to know all I could no longer do or eat. Yikes! I also got a bag full of samples of prenatal vitamins, some the size of horse pills. I also got a whole bunch of paperwork on testing, and I was strongly advised to do some sort of testing. But to be honest, in my heart I just knew that I didn't care what was "wrong" with my baby. I think that if God gives me a child with some sort of "disability" then it's part of His plan and I could handle it. I take care of sick people for a living so honestly, nothing scares me.

I went to a couple more appointments, some Rudy came with, and others he didn't because of work. My doctor was about 45 minutes away because at the time I refused to deliver at the same hospital I worked at. There's something about the idea that people who have seen my privates at literally their worst day and then I could run into them at the lobby coffee shop just didn't sit well with me. So I was ok with making the drive to this cute town, they have really good restaurants out there so I figured it was a win-win.

On the first appointment he went in with me, we laughed because the vaginal ultrasound probe was "ready to go!" with a condom over it. We are SO mature. Like totally ready to be the best parents ever! This would be the last appointment our baby would have a heartbeat; we just didn't know it yet.

The following appointment I went to with my grandmother and aunt. They were here visiting from Mexico and were so excited to spend the day with me. I had a whole day planned with lunch and probably some shopping. I checked in, we waited in the waiting room for about 30 minutes. A loud TV, magazines for days, and a whole bunch of big bellies filled the room. When my name was finally called, I went in alone. The nurse weighed me. I walked in the room, took off my pants, my underwear, and sat on the white crinkly paper. The doctor came in, her big bright smile welcomed me. Her curly hair bounced like it was freshly washed. She asked how I was feeling and I replied "great!" Because I was, I had no morning sickness, no nausea, no vomiting, no pains, no food aversions, nothing.

I had bright pink polish on my toes, and when my feet were up in those dreaded stirrups the doctor said, "pretty color!" And I was kind of taken aback, because I legitimately thought she meant my vagina. Blessed assurance. She meant my toes, as she quickly added "on your toes" when she saw my face of amusement.

She handed me the probe and told me "when you're ready" which by the way ladies, when are you ever ready for that. Men have it so easy. She looked for about 5 seconds when the look on her face changed. It just dropped, and she wasn't smiling anymore. I wont ever forget that look. You know why? Because it is the same look I've probably had on my face many times in my career. I knew the weight of that look. I know the moment your heart sinks because you are about to destroy someone else's world. At that moment she didn't have to say a word, I just knew, in my heart and in my mind, I knew it was over.

"I am so sorry Dayahna, I don't see a heartbeat." And I didn't bust out in tears and cry, I just said "Ok. " "I am going to call in another doctor to verify with me." The nurse quickly got up, and walked out of the room, a few seconds later an African American doctor with sweet eyes walked in and shook her head no, looked at me and said "I am so sorry" and walked out.

"I am going to go ahead and measure it to see when it happened" She clicked a few buttons on the machine; tap, tap, tap, click. "It looks like it happened last week, at about 10 weeks." "Did you feel anything?" I replied, "No, so what happens next?" So methodical, my nurse instincts went into over drive. She started to tell me what my options were, and suddenly her voice became distant, and all I could focus on were her teeth. Shock. She told me that I could have surgery, take a pill, or wait it out but I had to make my decision quickly. I had suffered what is called a missed miscarriage and my body still thought I was pregnant. She wanted me to get labs drawn, I forgot what her reason was, but I just agreed to it and told her to give me time and I'd call the office later on what I wanted to do.

And then I remembered my aunt and grandma were in the waiting room, ouch. I really just wanted to go home and be alone. The doctor told me to take my time and come out when I was ready. I got dressed very quickly, walked out, she looked shocked at my promptness as she was still signing the orders for my labs. I waited for her to finish, she looked at me with sadness, a look I am now used to, and handed me the orders. I walked out and saw my aunt and grandma talking and dashed into the lab trying to avoid everyone and everything. The lab tech was so sweet. She asked if it was my first baby, and reassured me that I'd be a mom, and that maybe this happened for a reason. I wiped the first tear off my cheek and smiled.

I walked out, told my grandma and aunt it was time to go. We waited for the elevator, and they asked how it went, "fine", I lied. And once we were in the car, I told them I lost the baby. My aunt cried and held my hand. My grandma said something nice I'm sure, but I don't remember. And I told them that we were going to get coffee. As soon as I found out I was pregnant I cut out caffeine. And if I did have a cup it was decaf, yuck. I drove to the nearest Starbucks and ordered a venti iced caramel macchiato; it was the yummiest, most bitter drink of my life.

I avoided texting Rudy because he wanted to know how it went. So I replied short answers and he knew something was up. One thing I knew is I couldn't tell him this over text or the phone for that matter. On the drive home my aunt kept saying she couldn't believe how strong I was and how she would be hysterical. We got back to my parents and I dropped them off, they started to cook and wanted me to eat. Because we are Mexican and food equals comfort. I refused, because I really wasn't hungry. That venti drink usually fills me up on a good day.

And then my mom called to ask how it went, and that's when I cried hard. I couldn't form the words to tell her. And she said, "Sorry baby, I'm on my way." When she got there, we hugged and cried some more. Telling my sisters was hard too. My then 10-year-old sister cried hard. Miscarriage is so mean, it does not only affect you as it is happening to you, but everyone that loves and cares for you will suffer too. How inconvenient right?

Rudy wouldn't leave me alone and he finally called so I told him. He said, "Its ok baby, we knew this could happen. It doesn't matter, I love you so much, and it's all going to be ok." I don't know how the rest of his workday went, but I told everyone goodbye, drove home crying, got in bed and cried the hardest, most painful cry of my life.

I decided to let nature take it's course, I figured if my body didn't want to grow this baby, it would figure out how to get rid of it on its own too. The very next day I started bleeding, like a period that lasted about 8 days. The worst day I took an anti-inflammatory and asked Rudy to buy me a heating pad because I didn't even own one! I went to work as normal. Life just went on, weird huh? I called the doctor and told her what I had been thru and that Id like an ultrasound to make sure I was clean and my uterus empty. She agreed and I went in a few days later, and got an "all clear." My body did it! No more baby. No longer a mommy to be. No more HEARTBEAT.