Hey, everyone! So, the day for that explanation that I’ve been talking about has finally come. I was waiting for a particular day, a particular date… and it’s here now, so I’m ready to share. I’m gonna take a small break from writing talk (though not really, cause it has a huge impact on my writing) and talk to you about what’s been going on with me. A warning: if you don’t want to hear about pregnancy/troubles with it/emotions surrounding it, just skip this post and suffice it to say the first trimester of being pregnant is what has put a hold on my writing.
Now, for those who do wanna hear ❤
Just a little bit into November, I had this epiphany – this realization, if you will. I… hadn’t had my period for over a month. I bought a test on the day of my very first write in ever, took it… and spent the entire write in wanting to go home, because it came up positive.
I’m 27, married, I have a wonderful supporting husband and a lovely circle of family and friends. Being pregnant isn’t a bad thing – it’s actually a beautiful, joyous, amazing thing. Josh and I were both really excited, and so we called the doctors and got my dating appointment set up; basically, that’s where they give you an ultrasound to see how far along you are.
At least, that’s what I thought was happening?
I didn’t expect to really see anything. I was maybe six weeks. I wasn’t even sure if I was that, because my period is abnormal. I couldn’t see my normal doctor because she was out of town for a few weeks. I honestly should have taken that as a sign and waited, but they wanted me to come in as soon as possible, so I did.
And I got my scan.
And the doctor couldn’t see anything but the little sac where the baby eventually grows. She smiled, she said it was either I’d gotten my period date wrong (I hadn’t, but the fact that I wasn’t always normal didn’t seem to register to her?) or there was something wrong and it wasn’t a viable pregnancy. She signed me up for some blood tests and sent me on my way without any type of comfort, or anything like that. “I’ve seen it go both ways, so…”
That was it.
I was a little shocked, to say the least… but I took a deep breath and went home. I did something that I haven’t done in a loonnnnnngggg time. I prayed.
Let’s backtrack a little – I’m not really a religious person. I believe that there’s something out there, but I am a firm believer that people are way too good at screwing up for me to let a person define it for me. My childhood experiences with religion (in a very southern kinda Kentucky) had kinda soured me on it… so it wasn’t something that I was really into. I’m of the mind that there is something, but people aren’t capable of understanding it. Through this experience I’ve learned that you can have faith without it being the definition of an organized religion – I can still have my values and beliefs that we can’t understand the actuality of a higher power… but I can still believe in it, and that’s pretty amazing for me. And honestly, it made all of the difference in this situation.
Okay, anyway, I prayed. And I got just… the most peaceful feeling. It was weird, but I felt better about it. So, I went to my blood tests, and I had taken two of them and was on the way to my third when my doctor sent me an email.
“I think that this is probably a miscarriage. Your numbers aren’t exactly where they should be.” She basically told me that it was her professional opinion that my baby was dead, but to go ahead and take my third test.
I’d done it by then, and I was so damn devastated. I ignored that feeling of peace – shame on me – and I cried.
I cried a lot, until my husband came home… and he told me that I couldn’t do that. That I had to think positive. That I had to be positive. And almost like everything was aligning, I get another email.
“Your numbers still aren’t where I want them to be, but they have raised. Come in for another scan and we’ll see what’s happening.”
I was so elated. She basically removed the death sentence that she’d put on my little baby and gave me hope… and that was when I realized something. Prayer and positive thought are really powerful things. They really make a difference, and that feeling of peace that I felt initially was something that I should have trusted. Faith is something that I hadn’t felt in a long time, but I felt it then.
So, we went back to the doctor, and I had positive thoughts. I flooded myself with positive thoughts. And I prayed, and I said “You show her, baby, you show her the strongest little heartbeat that she’s ever seen. You prove her wrong.”
We went to the doctor… and… there it was. A strong heartbeat. My baby. It was there, and it was healthy and perfect… and she looked up at me and said, “Oh, wow. I can tell you congratulations now.” She was glad that she was wrong, but she wasn’t sorry that she’d been so harsh. I kind of had to take a step back and realize that sometimes it is really all about having the right doctor.
So… she completely removed that death sentence, and the entire month of November that was basically uncertain Hell for me suddenly got better. And I kept up with those positive thoughts and that prayer, because I realized how important it is. I realized that miracles really can happen, and that things that seem hopeless can be okay. I know there are other people who are in the position that I was in, and I want them especially to know that things can be okay, and that giving up hope is the last thing you should do. Just hold on, stay strong, and keep your positive thoughts and prayer going into the Universe ❤
I went to my next scan (with my actual doctor)… and things were perfect again. Little tiny flailing limbs that would someday be arms and legs. Strong heartbeat. Perfect baby.
I gave another huge splash of prayer and positive thought, and moved on to the last scan that I had on the 5th. And it was life changing.
My kiddo had gone from a little bean to a little person. It had developed arms and legs and eyes and years and a nose… it had a perfect little profile, and I have to say that I’ve never felt more in love. I’d crossed that really unpredictable time – the first trimester – and I’d made it to the second, when things get less scary for losing the baby.
So, that’s where I am at. The last three months have been a roller coaster, and one that I couldn’t have gotten through without finding a little faith again, without a lot of positive thoughts, and without the best support system that a girl could ask for.
I’m probably going to post one a week with an update on this – how pregnancy is changing my writing, how things are going… because I think that a lot of writers are also Moms, and I know I’d be interested in reading it.
But that’s my little update, and my reasoning behind why things have been so crazy. Thank you so much to the people who were supportive during this time, and thank you so much to all of you for being patient while I wasn’t around ❤
Until next time, you guys! Keep reading and writing, and keep being amazing!
Author Amanda McCormick
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