It's Been 3 Years (may be graphic)

I hate May 20th.

Three years ago today, I had my first miscarriage. It was the most devestating day of my life. Now, I know that if I had given birth to this child, I would not have my Nathaniel. My head can do so many amazing things. But, my heart is still broken.

Tuesday, May 13th, 2008, I went to the doctor for a routine check up and found out that I was pregnant. I was pretty sure that I was, but wanted to confirm it with the doctors before saying anything to Pat. I kept hearing "Say What You Need to Say" by John Mayer every time I turned on the radio. Once at the doctor's office, I called Pat to come to the doctor's office and I told him. He was as shocked as I was, but we were thrilled. My due date would have been January 6, 2009.

I remember we went to Panda Express for dinner that night.

I remember how the next day we went to tell my family.

I remember the joy in my mom's face and the disappointment in my dad's. (He wouldn't even look at me, and God, did that hurt.)

I remember all the dreams that I had for this precious little child that I had running through my head.

I remember thinking that it was a good thing I had just bought an SUV, because I bought it with the thought that if I ever had children, I would need the space. (And since I had the Escort for 10 years, it was a pretty safe bet that I would have young kids with this car.)

I remember thinking about all the fun baby stuff I would get to buy.

Thursday, the 15th, I went to school and told a bunch of people. I was just too excited to not tell everyone. (I still do not regret that decision.) Thursday night with Pat was more planning and dreaming. (Even though he had just moved out of his dad's home, he was staying at my apartment some nights.)

But then, on Friday morning, I woke up with some spotting. When I got to school, people could tell something was bothering me. I told them what was going on, and others shared their (or their wives') experiences. Reassured, I was able to get through that day, but when it didn't stop by late afternoon, I went to the ER.

They did an ultrasound, and told me that if I were miscarrying, there was nothing that could be done, and sent me home. I went to the doctor again Saturday morning. She said that few women tested as early as I had (I was almost 7 weeks by then, and she has obviously never heard of thebump.com, where women routinely start peeing on sticks at 9 days after ovulation, but I pee early? Whatever.) She too told me that if it was a miscarraige, there was nothing that could be done.

The bleeding stopped Sunday, and was very light on Monday, but it was still there.

Tuesday, May 20th, I got dressed for work. I wore a pair of brown slacks that had some light pink striping through it and a sleeveless pink top. Pat had already left for work. I went to the bathroom one last time before leaving, and that's when I saw it. I was gushing bright red blood. I called work, hysterically crying, and told them that I was having an emergency and couldn't make it to work. Then I called Pat. He came rushing back and took me back to the ER. Again, there was nothing they could do.

They gave me a "hat" to pee in, and told me to collect the tissue so that it could be tested, if I wanted it to be. I didn't. So back home I went.

I spent the rest of the day in labor, passing large amounts of tissue and blood, watching as my dreams literally went down the toilet. At that point in time, I didn't know which was worse... the emotional pain or the physical pain.

I fully admit that I am a big baby when it comes to pain, but that was the worst pain of my life. Physically, it took 3 days of pain to get through the ordeal. Emotionally, well, as I said, it's been 3 years, and I am still heartbroken. My biggest supporter during this whole ordeal, by the way, was my dad. He called several times a day to see how I was doing. I will never forget that.

I threw out the clothes that I was wearing that day. I couldn't look at them. I still can't listen to that song. When it comes on the radio, I have to change the station.

But again, my head tells me that I have my Nathaniel, and I am very blessed to have him. I agree with my head. You can't argue the logic. I have the sweetest, most amazing boy in the whole world, and I wouldn't have had him if I had the one I lost.

If someone has never suffered a loss, they are the luckiest women in the world. Because once you've gone through it, nothing can ever be the same. Never will you have a "care-free" pregnancy. But, every day you go past the day that you had your loss is a small victory in your mind.

For three years, I kept my feelings bottled up inside me. Nearly every day, something reminds me of what might have been. But I am fortunate to have what I do, and I try to focus on that. But, at least 3 times a year, I mourn what might have been.