The Saturday before Father’s Day, Milton and I were with Maximus at My Gym, a play gym for toddlers.   In the middle of class, I leaned over to Milton and whispered, “I feel nauseated.” In the world of a fertile woman, that general means two things: either I have food poisoning or I’m pregnant.  Milton wanted me to wait until Father’s Day to pee on a stick, but as the day went by, I kept having to urinate and was tired.  Later that evening, me, the toilet and a stick became one as I took a pregnancy test.  Instantly a “+” appeared, which meant we were preggo-tastic.

Milton was excited! I was excited! Maximus was looking at us like “what is wrong with you people?” I’d only had two menstrual cycles since I was breast feeding so Milton’s aim was once again on point.  On Facebook, Milton claimed Sunday to be “The Best Father’s Day Ever!” 

I called my doctor that following Monday and they wanted to wait until the six weeks mark before I was seen.  That was about a week later.  I went in and all the office people were excited, especially since they’d been there the entire time with Maximus’ birth. I was talking with Debbie, the sonographer, about Fort Knox as she was doing the exam.  I noticed I didn’t see the sac like I had with Maximus.  She called my doctor in and to doc said she didn’t think I was as far along as I thought.  They suggested to do some blood work and see me again in two weeks.

I went and had some blood drawn and was called the next day with results: HCG level 800, progesterone level 10.  Decent, but not great numbers.  I came back the next day for more blood work with the goal the 800 level would double.  I was called the next day to say the level instead had decreased.  That meant I was going to have a miscarriage.

You never want to hear those words.  You never want to call your husband and tell him those words.  At first I just sat there. I found amazing strength to get through the situation from a wonderful group of moms on Facebook.  I reached out to my special group of international mamas and let them know my tragic news.  Little did I know that many of them had been through similar experiences and now they have the most precious babies I have ever seen.  I told them it was one of those clubs I never wanted to be a member of, but I was glad such amazing people were in it with me.

Some people have symptoms first of a miscarriage. For me, I was told it would happen first. Then, came the stressful days of waiting for it to happen. It took about four days to start.  When you see the blood leaving for your body for the first time is when you know it is really happening.  I was fortunate not to have a painful or long process.  I was also blessed to have an adorable 13 month old son by my side that showed me what life is all about.  

I went back and forth as to whether or not I was going to write about this.  But I knew the strength I had to get through this came from the strength others had to share their stories and be there for me with full support. I pray that if anyone else goes through something similar, that they know they aren’t alone and its not their fault.  I also pray they know there can be life after death.  Milton and I will continue to help Maximus give a sister or brother.  Please keep us in your prayers.