My whole life was focused on studying and working on a career. I was sure I didn’t want any kids. I never saw myself as a mother, and never felt the need to raise a family.
Everything changed when I met Ross. I was 41 years old, and falling in love with him totally (and literally) changed my life. This was the first time I felt this kind of love, and I realized that all previous men in my life meant nothing compared. After 1 year of our marriage, age 43, I started feeling the need to have a baby. All that love couldn’t be kept only for the 2 of us. I wanted more of him and me for us to love.
We started not using protection, and because of my age, we went to see a doctor who after some tests declared we wouldn’t be able to conceive naturally because my egg reserve was very low. It shattered me, I cried in front of the cold doctor, and all the way home. Inconsolable. 5 days after, my period was late, and I took a test expecting to be negative. But, surprise, surprise, it was positive. I couldn’t contain my tears, and we were happy over the moon.
This was November 2019, and considering my last period, I should be around 5 weeks. We went to a different doctor, of course, because I was feeling a lot of cramping. Because of my age, and the pain I was feeling, I got an early scan by 6 weeks, and could see the SAC with a baby inside and a heart pulse on the monitor. Everything looked fine, and they made an appointment for around 10 weeks with the OB.
Those 4 weeks were probably the happiest ones in my life. I felt so much love for that little baby that was growing inside, a real and deep connection that made all discomforts (cramping, heartburn, pack pains, and nausea) worthwhile.
Finally, on the 13 of December, we drove to the hospital for the first appointment. I was so happy and proud of my little bump that was slowly growing, that I couldn’t see how much pain was coming. They couldn’t see the baby in the SAC anymore, no heartbeat. I felt empty, crushed. My heart was hurting so badly I could barely keep breathing. Nothing prepared me for that: I was feeling no pain, I had no bleeding…I was feeling great, my skin and hair were glowing, I had a bump, how could my baby be no longer there, inside me?
They sent us to the ER to have pills inserted inside my womb, and the “professional” treatment was so cold and blunt, making us wait for 3 hours, cause in one of the nurse’s words, my baby wasn’t a priority because it was dead, the priority was the living babies in the wombs of the women in the waiting room”.
I arrived home feeling the beginning of the worst pain I ever had, and bleeding like crazy. My amazing husband took great care of me, bringing hot bottles and warm tea, trying his best to make me feel better. But how could I feel better? How am I supposed to live on knowing that my baby was gone, that my womb was empty?
Today, almost 8 months later, I still feel the void inside me. I suffer for my baby I never got to meet, I fear this was my last chance to conceive, I fear I will never be a mother of a living baby. People tend to say it was too small, too early. But for me, it doesn’t make any difference. It was my baby, my love, and I’ll live forever with this hole inside me. I am sure this is never going away. The emptiness, the bruise in my soul.
We’re still trying for another baby, and despite all the odds, on the contrary, I have faith we’ll be successful. I trust in our love to overcome everything. And I trust in God to bless me with the deepest desire of my heart.
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