{ our miscarriage story }


Charlie’s story starts back in March of 2011.  I had been going baby crazy and everyone seemed to be pregnant to the point where it was driving me crazy.  So my husband (Mike) and I sat down and had a heart to heart about when it would be the best time to add to our family and set a deadline for us to start trying regardless if we had accomplished everything on our list or not.  We had decided to give ourselves at least a year.

However, when Mike came home from a trip to the Boundary Waters in Northern Minnesota, Mike had decided that now was the best time for us to add to the family.  Our son, Evan, was turning 5, and Mike wanted Evan and his sibling to know each other.  I was game, and so we started trying.

I constantly took pregnancy tests towards the end of June and early July.  I knew I was pregnant.  I felt the same way I did, when I was first pregnant with Evan, but each day, the tests came back negative.  But then I missed my period, still no positive tests.  Then finally 3 days (July 5) after I was suppose to get my period, it read PREGNANT!  I was so happy and immediately told Mike who was equally excited that we had gotten pregnant so quickly.
I called to make an appointment and was told I wouldn’t be seen at the office until I was between 10 and 12 weeks along and after I had taken the early pregnancy class since I was going to a new clinic.  I was a bit put off by it, but shrugged my shoulders and figured unless I wasn’t feeling okay or started bleeding I would be fine until then.

I had some light cramping, though, not every day.  I was told by the nurses that because it was my second pregnancy it would be normal for me to have some cramping, but to call if the cramping got worse or I started spotting.  So I put it in the back of my mind and continued to enjoy my pregnancy and making plans for the baby.

Then only 5 days from my appointment, I started spotting.  Mike, who works nights, wasn’t able to leave work and we really didn’t have anyone who could stay with Evan, so I figured I would make it through the night and then call the nurses line in the morning.  In the morning after Evan was up and eating breakfast, I sat on hold on the nurse’s line FOREVER.  Once I finally talked to the nurse, I was advised to go to the hospital immediately.  So I called Mike’s aunt and uncle to watch Evan, and then Mike and I were off the emergency room.
We only sat in the waiting room for about 10 minutes.  They took vitals and blood, and instantly sent me up for ultrasounds, both abdominal and vaginal.  I knew the tech wasn’t seeing what she was supposed to see.  She turned the monitor away from me and got a concerned look on her face.  Afterwards, she told us she had seen the baby, but the baby was only measuring at 5 ½ weeks, however I was 10 ½ weeks pregnant.  The Doctor told us we could be off on our dates and that my hcG level was 12000, which was good, but at that time, He wasn’t able to tell us if my hcG level was going up or coming down and in 48 hours, I was to go and have a second test to see where the number was.

We went home and prayed and tried to be positive.  Because I wasn’t told I couldn’t work, I went and saw two of my home care clients who are independent, but need me to be there while their love ones are running errands and such.  The bleeding had stopped and the cramping had gone away.  So I figured all this was just a blip on an otherwise healthy pregnancy.  But then, later in the evening after dinner, I started bleeding and cramping much like I would if I was having a period and my heart just dropped.

I knew I was miscarrying.  We packed up Evan and dropped him off with Mike’s grandparents, and then we made our way back to the hospital.  This time we waited longer, but the nurse and doctor were awesome.  They tried to be positive, but I told them I knew in my heart I was losing our child and not to pussy foot around it.  After waiting for about 2 hours, the blood test came back confirming what we already knew, I was miscarrying.  They sent us home after telling us what to watch for to make sure I passed the baby myself and if I didn’t, I would need a D&C. 

Two days later, on Sunday when I was supposed to be 11 weeks, I passed our child.  My heart dropped and I cried.  Miscarrying our child was one of the most emotionally and physically draining events that I have ever experienced in my life. 

 Two weeks after I miscarried our baby, our baby came to me in a dream.  In this dream I met our child, saw that he had dark hair like his dad and my green eyes.  He looked exactly like his brother.  In the dream I was calling him Charlie, so after I woke up and told Mike, we named our baby Charlie.  I know we now have an angel watching over us, and I can’t wait to meet our Charlie up in heaven.

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