I feel it is time for me to start sharing some of the hardest moments of my life. So, please be gentle!
Why is the title, Martin Luther King Weekend, you ask? Well, keep reading…
After we decided that fertility was going to be the way we’d get our baby, our first fertility doctor put me on clomid. I was so excited, this was the “miracle drug” I had heard so much about. Personally, I knew a few girls that took it and got pregnant immediately.
What is Clomid? Clomid is short for Clomiphene and it is a estrogen modulator and is taken orally. It may be used to enhance ovulation in women, who are already ovulating.
Typically, Clomid is started on either day 3, 4 or 5 of a menstrual flow and is taken for 5 days. On days 11-12 of the cycle, ultrasounds will begin to determine if an ovarian follicle or follicles have developed. Also, you will begin to test your ovulation in the mornings. Clear Blue Easy worked well for me! Once ovulation is detected, intercourse is next (aka the fun part of baby makin’)! Two weeks after ovulation, you can take an HPT or POAS (Pee On A Stick) as some so lovingly call it ;). (Check out our fertility lingo post for a refresher!)
Okay, back to my story…
Right before Christmas of 2010, I got my prescription filled and headed to Louisiana to be with my friends and family for Christmas. I bought the home ovulation kit, (you know, the one with the smiley faces that are supposed to make you feel like peeing on basically litmus paper every day is totally normal) and every morning, I would be hopeful to see one. Well, on the 26th of December, I got my Christmas wish and we got that smiley face! We “got to work” on making our baby and then headed back to Texas for the dreaded two week wait (TWW). Two weeks passed by faster than I thought and I took an At Home Pregnancy Test (AHT) and guess what… it was POSITIVE!
I got on the phone with the nurse and made an appointment for bloodwork! I couldn’t contain my happiness, I called my BFF and mom to tell them the great news! The next day, I went to the doctor and got the results, we were pregnant but the numbers were low, which was okay, right?! The nurse said, we may be a little early!
Exactly one week later, while at work, I started to spot. I called the nurse and she told me go right home and rest! I prayed the whole way home, begged Him to make the spotting stop.
In the middle of the night, I woke up to full on bleeding (sorry for the TMI). Looking back, I think I knew I was miscarrying but I didn’t want it to be true.
Andre and I headed to doctor, for the dreaded bloodwork. We went home and didn’t talk, didn’t say a word. I think we were praying in our heads for a miracle. About three hours later, we got the dreaded call. I was miscarrying, I was losing my baby.
I felt embarrassed, devastated, angry, hurt and most of all I didn’t know what I did wrong.
Why me? Why did I have to lose the best gift ever?
I can remember calling work to tell them I would be off a few days. My mom and mother in law, dropped everything in Louisiana and came to be with us. We would sit on the couch and I would go from crying to screaming to crying again. I remember my mom trying to hold me, but I didn’t want to be touched. I didn’t want to feel anything.
Those feeling lasted for a few weeks, months if I am honest. How could I be so upset over something so small. But this wasn’t small, this was my future baby. I was supposed to hold their hand, hear them cry, feed them, and I never got the opportunity to. I lost a part of me that day. A part of me, I will never fully recover.
So why, Martin Luther King Weekend, well that was the weekend I lost the baby. Every MLK weekend, I pray for the baby I lost, I pray for all the other women in the world going through what I went through.
To read about the doctors appointment during my miscarriage, check back on Wednesday. Thanks for listening…retelling this is painful, but worth it…