The Beginning, The End, and the New Beginning

Hello,

My name is Pickle; I live with my boyfriend, Dill, of 3 1/2 years. To best describe this blog, it is the blog of a grieving mother who miscarried early in her pregnancy. My pregnancy. To best explain this blog, it will help if I start from the beginning.

In June 2011, Dill and I weren't the safest when it came to protection. I was on birth control, which we never knew it could fail without warning at times (and it can). I had started ovulated, which was unusual, but I didn't understand then how the bc pill worked. All I knew is that if I took it, there was supposedly a 99% chance I would not get pregnant. Thanks to this huge misunderstanding of the pill...A new chapter in both our lives opened.

About the second week of June, I began to feel off. Different. Normally I felt lonely, but I had started to feel better. I summed it up to getting over my depression. During the third week of June, I kept telling Dill, "Something is different. I don't know what, but I feel different". During the second week of June, I started spotting. The spotting continued until the third week. I now realize this was my implantation bleeding and my baby was being created.

Then I started my period later in June. Again, this was part of the implantation bleeding. Early in July, I began to cramp. It was around this time I was realizing I was pregnant. A friend mentioned my sore nipples and breasts, my sudden nausea, my sudden fatigue, and a few other symptoms. These were not normal symptoms of my period. When she mentioned the possibility, it felt right. That is why I had felt different and less alone. I was most definitely pregnant.

I tested July 9th, but it was negative. July 12th, I started bleeding heavily, yet still too light for an actual period. It was dark and clotted.

The way my symptoms were, it was a miscarriage or an early and messed up cycle. Though I know I do not have evidence - a stupid little line saying I was pregnant - I know that I was. The symptoms were out of character for my cycles, the bleeding was unusual, I had ovulated which I was not supposed to, and I just knew something was different.

It wasn't until the beginning of July when I realized I was pregnant. I immediately began thinking of a nursery, names, etc. Dill was terrified. He wanted to consider adoption, as we both disagree (for us) on abortion. He knew though, that I would never put my child up for adoption. We looked into ways we could get assistance, and I began telling him the things I wanted for the nursery. My symptoms increased during the next week, and then they suddenly stopped.

Heavier bleeding came, and the symptoms were gone. I tested again and another Negative. And only then did I begin to realize what my body had just done. I went to the doctor on one of the days I was still bleeding, and the doctor shrugged and said it could have been an early miscarriage. That was it. He said it could have been my bc pill didn't work for some reason. He mentioned antibiotics could cause it to be ineffective or less effective. And then I remembered I had been on an antibiotic the previous month. He nodded, saying that could cause break-through bleeding, or could have led to me becoming pregnant.

Then he said it could be either and not to worry about. His exact words, "If it was a miscarriage, do you really want to delve down that road? Why don't you just forget about this and move on, so you will never know." Then he left. He just told me I most likely had a miscarriage...and to forget about it.

Needless to say, I went home numb and confused. Dill was relieved, which only added to my confusion and imminent breakdown. The following weeks were hard. I still couldn't grasp the symptoms had suddenly stopped. I couldn't understand how Dill was so perfectly fine with this. And I most definitely couldn't understand my idiot doctor.

I figured out I was around 4 weeks when my baby passed. The next few months were hard. I had various breakdowns. I tried to tell my family, but they just shook their heads and said it was nothing. My counselor agreed. If the doctor said it might not have been, despite him telling me it was most likely a miscarriage, then I had never been pregnant. Especially since I didn't get a positive result.

Just because I didn't go around saying I had a pink or blue line, nobody believed it happened. If I had just said I had seen one, everyone would have been a little more understanding. But no. I knew my baby was there. The doctor said it was highly likely the baby was there. And Dill agreed the symptoms fit. Yet, nobody believed me.

It's only been the last year when I realized it's just not something people want to believe. They don't want something so sad to be true. So they blocked it out. Just like the doctor told me to do. But that's just wrong. My baby is in Heaven now. S/he will never be able to scream or yell, "I WAS HERE!". No. I have to do that for them.

A few months after the miscarriage, I begged the Lord to show me what sex my baby was. The night before, Dill and I named him/her a unisex name, Taylor Austin K. The night after my prayer, I dreamt of a dirty-blonde-haired girl running up to me, about six or seven, saying, "Mommy!". She ran into my arms and hugged me. Then I awoke.

Frog box, resembling her would-be nursery.

Taylor would have been a girl. The first girl in my family out of all of my cousins and sister. Still, to this day, the only one in my family who believes she existed is my mom, who finally realized she too had felt that 'something was different', and my dad and his girlfriend.

Dill has come around a little. He still says it may have been a blessing in disguise, which I do not agree with to an extent. Though, he is very supportive during my breakdowns. Taylor would have been born approximately March 2, 2012. We are coming up on her one-year birthday, which I am still attempting to figure out how to celebrate her.

The due date is March 2012, not May.

My blog is not just about how I have grieved, or how hard it is for me. It's to hopefully help someone going through something similar. I hope to inspire others to never give up, and to not allow society to change the way you feel or think. I knew my baby girl was here, despite many people saying she didn't exist or it didn't matter. Because I felt strongly enough about it, I feel I am stronger now, and more capable to help others.