On July 5th, 2013 I set out for a weekly long run of about 16 miles. It was the day after my nephew River's sixth birthday party. My sister and her family were in town to celebrate and my wife was about eight or nine weeks pregnant with what would have been our second kid. This long run was the last long one before I was set to go out to race in Louisville, Kentucky and hopefully accomplish a huge goal of mine at the time. I wanted to be a pro triathlete and that was going to hopefully get me there. It was going to be the biggest race of my life.
About 14 miles into that run, I started to feel a pain in my foot. I had to stop and walk. I tried to start running again - no luck. I had nothing and was forced to limp those last two miles home. When I got home, Beth had just pulled up with her sister, and she let me know that she was cramping pretty bad.
It turns out that I had literally just broken my foot in half on that run, and my wife had just had her first miscarriage. July 5th sucked. It was a bullshit day that I'll remember forever. That foot healed in time, but the miscarriage that Beth went through lasted months and months. No joke - it physically lasted months. Perspective.
I was not able to fully support her and I regret how I may have acted in those months after our first loss. Looking back, I was not fully able to grasp what she had gone through. My personal problems were small - I had lost the ability to do a race and had a broken foot, but what she went through hit way deeper physically and even deeper emotionally. We were determined to make a go at bringing another child into this world, so we kept on trying.
I don't even remember when the second one happened, but just as the first - Beth and I lost another pregnancy. It was fairly early on, but it was a blow indeed. Damn, it really sucked.
Then in early 2015 we found out that we were going to be expecting again. This time it felt different and real. I had a great feeling about this pregnancy. Beth had blood tests and ultrasounds (it seemed like every day) to confirm that this baby was going to make it. It was as real as it could have been and we had pictures of this wonderful little baby growing at a good rate. I still have the ultrasound pictures of this one, a sweet little child laying on her back - but don't think that I could look at them any time soon. Then - right after the first trimester - maybe 14 weeks in - we lost our third. It happened again. This was one of the fucking hardest days, then months of our lives together.
The loss of our child-to-be in early 2015 was an incredible loss for Beth and myself. We saw this baby in so many ways as ready to be born. We were so ready to welcome another baby into our lives.
Below is a picture that Aiden drew of his baby sister inside "mommy's belly" in late February when the pregnancy seemed to be going well. You can see the little one inside of the mamma, and me (with no arms) off to the side. I still have this picture on our fridge. It makes me sad, but it's real.
I also remember telling Aiden that his sibling was not healthy and would not be coming anytime soon. He lost it crying. I'll never forget that moment.
Then, about seven weeks ago, we found out we were pregnant again. Being so "late," I made Beth take a test on a Saturday morning. The second line was very light, but it was there. We were super excited.
Beth was about as nervous as I had ever seen. She immediately started to get her blood tests to make sure that the hormones were moving in the right direction. Each day (or close to), she would call the doctor or talk about the doctor/nurses about how worried she was that a hormone level was low, or after our first ultrasound that the baby was measuring small in relation to where it should have. But - that first ultrasound showed a healthy heartbeat. That made it real to me again.
Then a week ago, on October 29th, I woke up in a horrible mood and was nothing but an asshole towards my wife. I don't want to get into what it was all about, but she didn't need it and I should have grown the f-up and been more positive. We both went to work, then we had an ultrasound appointment at 11. I met her at the doctors and we went into the ultrasound room. We saw the baby, then were told there was no heartbeat. We spent the rest of the day in and out of tears and at home together. It happened again. It was the fourth loss in a row.
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I think whole the reason that I am writing this is because I'm really sad about this situation. I don't think that this much loss and pain is fair to Beth.
I am so ready to be a father to another child and for Beth to be an amazing mother to another as well. I don't have the anger/fear/worries that Beth might deservedly have. I don't have the physical and emotional ups and downs that come with losing a pregnancy. I also don't have the same amount of feelings of loss that she might have. I'm just pretty fucking sad and bummed out that this happened again. This sucks.
In closing, I want to say that I am a person who likes to - and almost always does - find a positive spin towards any situation. This is one that I have no positive to. This shit sucks right now. I know that my love for my wife and child has grown stronger because of this, but I'm also hitting some new fears. I am irrationally fearing the loss of my son and how that would turn my world upside down. I am fearing the emptiness that my wife and I will feel if we are never able to have another child. I am also sad that my son may never have a brother or sister to hold and love. Seriously - how many physical and emotional blows can a strong woman such as Beth take? It's just not fair to her.
But - right now - I have an amazingly fun and adorable five year old boy and a wife to share my life with. This current situation sucks, but I know it could be worse. Much worse. I guess sometimes perspective helps.
