Another reason I had not been posting much over the last few months is because I was pregnant. Yes, was.  At the end of  April I miscarried my first child at approximately 12 weeks.

The pregnancy had been rather difficult from the beginning.  Almost as soon as we realized I was pregnant, I began spotting.  So after several tests, ultrasounds, and worried nights, the doctors determined the baby was ok.  They assured me many women bleed in their first trimester.  One of the most magical moments was when the baby was about 6-7 weeks, we saw and heard his heartbeat.  It’s somewhat weird being a mother, but not ever having carried a baby inside me.  The process my body was going through was just amazing to me.  As crazy as it may sound I was starting to feel like I was going to be a real mother.

Then the bleeding intensified.  I called a nurse in a panic, she advised me to take it easy and said bluntly, “At this point, whatever’s happening is happening, you can’t do anything to change it.”  Still I hoped for the best.  The next day it got worse and I told my husband we were going to the ER.

Because of Superman’s late wife battling cancer and being in and out of the hospital, I’ve always hated the idea of bringing him to the hospital or doctor, almost fearing it would trigger something in him.  As we sat eating breakfast before we left for the ER, the look on his face made my heart sink.  I asked him what he was thinking.  He said, “I don’t want to go through this again.”  He had lost a baby with his late wife.  I almost decided to go the ER alone, but we headed out the door with Superboy in tow and went to the same hospital he lost his first child at.

I went through a painful physical exam and then an ultrasound.  I hated that they wouldn’t let me see the screen.  I just wanted to see my baby.  We waited and waited for the doctor to return to give the results.

Even writing this two weeks later is difficult.  After he said that the baby only measured at 6 weeks and there was no cardiac activity I don’t remember much else.  I know I started sobbing and my husband moved closer to me to try to comfort me.  Superboy kept asking, “What’s wrong with mommy?  Why’s mommy crying?”  After signing some papers we headed out the door.

Superman was incredibly supportive, he offered to call my mother as I didn’t want to talk at all.  He really was amazingly strong and supportive those first few days.  It’s having more of an effect on him now, I’ll elaborate in future posts.

I don’t know if other WOWs have experienced this, but somehow I thought I’d be immune to some of these loses myself.  As if since my husband already lost a wife (and a baby) that God wouldn’t put him through it again.  I guess miscarriages aren’t like lightning.  They can strike in the same place twice.