The Darkest Days

July 24th, 2011.

I became 1 in 4. I had a miscarriage. I lost a child but I lost so much more.

I was married, we had been married for just over 3 years and together for 4. We had 2 beautiful daughters; our oldest had just turned 2 and our youngest was 7 months old. My husband was currently working nights, which was very stressful on our family. It was almost as if he didn't exist, like I never saw him.

We weren't ready for another baby, but up until this dark day, we were pregnant.

We had found out about 6 weeks prior and although, we weren't thrilled, we were responsible. WE WERE PREGNANT. I had already started planning where we were going to put the new crib. My husband had sold our car and gotten us a minivan, to make sure we had plenty of room for 3 children in car seats. So, yes, we were not ready for another pregnancy but we were preparing for another baby.

July 24th, 2011, shortly after lunch. I exit from the bathroom with no expression. My husband is in the living room with the daughters when I walk in.

"I'm bleeding", that's all I can say.

My husband was confused and asked what I meant. I told him that I went to the bathroom and I'm bleeding. That I think we need to go to the hospital.

We load up the children and get to the hospital. We are stuck in the waiting room for an hour before they call my name. When my husband attempts to go back with me, they tell him that he'll have to stay out in the waiting room with the other two children. That our daughters aren't allowed where I'm going so someone has to stay with them.

I'm escorted to the back, placed on a hospital bed, told someone will be with me soon and the curtain divider is closed over. I'm alone in an ER, losing a baby. I decided to call my mother, I didn't have the greatest relationship with my mother but we were in contact and we were attempting to have a relationship for my children's sake. I have never needed my mother but I did think that this was a time when someone would need their mother.

I call my mother and I ask her if she could come sit with my 2 daughters, her grandchildren, so my husband could come be by my side as I lose our child. I expected her to say that she was on her way but instead she told me that she was napping with my niece and she doesn't want to wake her up and bring her to a disease-ridden ER waiting room, just to sit with my kids.

So, there I sat, for hours, losing my baby, losing our baby. My daughters were in the waiting room losing it, they wanted Mommy, they wanted me and I couldn't be with them. I lost my mother, that day was the day that I decided my mother has no intention of being a mother to me and that any effort will always be wasted.

After 6 hours of being in the hospital and everyone's patience being well past spent, we make it home. The children are exhausted, I put them to bed. I wash my face and make my way back to the living room where my husband is waiting.

"Are you okay?"

He said, are you okay.

ARE YOU OKAY????

That question is a true trigger during tragedy isn't it? No matter how strong you are, how strong you've been, or how strong you want to be... "are you okay?", will break you.

I began bawling my eyes out. Am I okay? No, not at all. I wasn't ready for this baby and now it's gone. I lost our baby. I was the reason. God knew I wasn't ready and took them from us. I played too hard with our current children, I didn't protect my stomach, I lost our baby. I wasn't excited. I didn't want the child and now I don't have it. I lost our baby.

Am I okay?

I wasn't okay. I wasn't okay at all.

July 24th, 2011 was the day that I became a statistic, I became 1 in 4. This was the day that I lost a child. This is also the day that I lost the mother I was trying so dearly to hold onto. I lost a child, I lost a mother, I began to lose myself. Depression was coming and it wasn't going to be pretty but that's a story for another day.