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I reached over and grabbed my husband’s hand, squeezing it so tightly that it turned red. What I am feeling right now is the most excruciating gull bladder pain that I’ve ever felt in my life. Restlessly tossing and turning every second, I roll over onto my side and place my hands over my 5 month pregnant stomach. I look over at my cousin Layla, who is laying in the middle of me and Dustin, still deep in sleep. I don’t know how she managed to sleep through me tossing and turning and screaming in pain, but she did. The pain is striking through me faster than a speeding bullet. I am crying out to God, asking him to take this horrific pain away.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Asks Dustin, with a concerned frown on his face.
“GULL BLADDER PAIN! IT HURTS SO BAD!!” I yell, clenching with pain.
“Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?” He asks, with a concerned look on his face.
“No, I’ll be fine. I just need to go to the bathroom!” I say, stuttering.
I quickly jump up off the bed and run to the bathroom, with tears caused by unbearable pain rolling down my cheeks. I go to the bathroom to do my “business”, and to my surprise, find that I am bleeding! Nervousness and panic is setting in. Sweat is dripping down my temple. Every bone in my body is shaking with worry. Bleeding while being pregnant is definitely NOT normal!
“DUSTIN, COME QUICK! COME QUICK!” I scream, with panic.
“DUSTIN!!” I scream even louder, trying to get him to hear me.
…Again, no answer.
I pull my pants up as quickly as I can and rush to my husband in the bedroom.I am overwhelmed with every emotion possible. “What happening to me?”, “Is my baby okay?” So many questions are running through my head right now. I walk over to Dustin’s side of the bed and shake him, trying to wake him. He immediately wakes up and sees my tear stained face.
“What’s wrong, Gianna?” He asks, sitting up and looking into my eyes.
“I—I don’t know what wrong. Something is happening. I’m bleeding!” I tell him, with a worried look on my face.
“I’m calling the doctor!!” He says, stumbling to find the phone.
“Please call now. Quick.” I say, out of breath.
I wake up Layla and tell her that she might have to go home tonight since I am not feeling well. She asks what is wrong and I tell her that it’s nothing. She tells me that she hopes that I feel better soon and then wraps me in a loving hug. Dustin stumbles for the phone and finally grabs it and starts to dial the doctor’s number as fast as he can. Ring. Ring. Ring.
“Hello?” Says nurse Chelsey, on the other end of the phone.
“Yes, my wife is having um.. well, she’s bleeding.. and she’s 5 months pregnant.” He explains to her.
“Make sure she keeps her feet up and if the bleeding does not stop she is most likely going to have a miscarriage. I will try to get ahold of the doctor as soon as I can, sir.” She explains to him.
He hangs up the phone and looks over at me. Dustin sees how much pain and suffering I am going through, and he looks over at me with the “I love you” look on his face. I cannot handle this pain much longer, it’s way too unbearable! Without hesitation, I grab my cellphone off of the nightstand, and quickly begin to dial my father’s number. Riiiiiiiiing.
“Hiya, sweetheart!” He says.
“Come quick! I think something is terribly wrong. I need you to take me to the hospital right away.” I beg him, with tears forming in the corners of my eyes.
“Why what is wrong?” He asks.
“I think I may be having a miscarriage.” I tell him, crying.
“I’m on my way! I’ll be there in a jiffy! Hang in there, honey!” He tells me, lovingly.
I grab the blanket, and squeeze it tightly, trying to forget about the intense pain. “You can do this Gianna. You’ll be alright.” I keep telling myself, over and over again. I place my hands over my baby-bump and rub it, praying to God that my baby is okay. Dustin and I have always wanted a baby for as long as I can remember. We already love this child with all of our hearts—even though he’s not born yet. Bang. Bang. Bang. Three loud knocks on my door.
“Come in!” I yell.
“Let’s get you to the hospital!” He says, looking at me and noticing how much pain I am in.
“Will you be okay, Gianna?” 7 year old Layla asks me, worriedly.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’ll be okay.” I tell her, assumingly.
“I’m going to take Layla home real quick and then I’ll be right over to the hospital with you!” Dustin explains.
Dustin wraps his coat around me, and then dad and I head out the door and to the car. In the backseat of his car I’m squeezing my legs together trying to keep whatever it was from coming out. But without a second to spare, I felt a small round ball pop out. This round ball had veins all through it. It has to be the baby! It has to be! I start crying and crying and can’t stop. The tears are flowing down my cheeks like a waterfall. My head starts throbbing and aching and I am just completely miserable. We finally reach the hospital after what felt like forever—and they quickly rush me into the hospital on a stretcher. They put me in the baby delivery room and let me say my last goodbyes to him, “I’ll see you in heaven soon enough, baby boy. Mommy loves you!” I tell my lifeless baby. With that, they take him away from me.
“We are going to need to do a DNC on you right now.” Doctor Coughman tells me.
“Okay. Do whatever needs to be done.” I reply, with a deep sigh.
The doctors take me back to the surgical room and give me tons of shots that are making me loopy. I don’t remember anything that happened—except being admitted to the maternity ward for recovery after my DNC. I wake up to my husband standing next to me, with a bouquet of white roses. He leans down and kisses my forehead. He glares into my eyes, with love.
“I’m here for you. I’m so sorry. It will all be okay. We will get through this.” He tells me, stroking my sweat-drenched hair.
“I love you so much.” I tell him, with tears forming in the corners of my eyes.
“I love you more.” He tells me, reaching to grab my hand.
“Our baby is gone….forever!” I tell him, with tears streaming down my face.
“I know honey... He’s an angel flying high with God now. He is watching over us, so try to be strong for him.” He says, his voice cracking.
I look next to me, and there is a patient in the hospital bed holding her newborn baby boy. This is torture. Every feeling of sadness and anger is overruling me. “Why couldn’t that be me? Why did you have to take my baby boy away from me?” I ask god, crying my heart out.
“You have to wait another year before trying to have another baby again... because you may end have another miscarriage if not.” Doctor Coughman tells me, entering the room.
“Okay, thank you.” Dustin and I say, nodding in agreement.
3 months have passed and Dustin and I are coping better with the whole miscarriage thing. We sure do miss our sweet little boy, though. But big news, I’m pregnant again! I know Doctor Coughman said to wait a whole year, but it was one hundred percent unexpected and unplanned. I’m just really worried that I am going to have another miscarriage—and if I do, that’s going to completely rip me apart emotionally. The ultrasound doctor said that my baby is healthy and growing normally. I’m 6 months pregnant and my life is perfect, I couldn’t ask for anything better. Dustin and I are totally in love with this baby already and we feel it kick every night.
Today Dustin and I decide to go to a scare house for our 2 year anniversary. I’m so excited! I can’t wait to go! We haven’t done anything fun or exciting like this in a long time. 5:00 can’t come any faster!
I walk back into the bathroom, take off my clothes, and step into the steaming hot shower. It feels good as the hot beads of water splash against my body. After an hour, I’m finally finished with my relaxing shower. I step out of the shower, dry myself off, and slip my new outfit on. I’m wearing a bright florescent green shirt and my favorite pair of ripped blue jeans. I plug in my curling iron to let it heat up while I do my makeup. I apply black mascara that makes my eyelashes appear 10 times bigger than they actually are—that’s the amazing power of makeup! I then smear on cover up to hide my pimples that were caused from stress and my hormones being all crazy due to pregnancy. Putting my makeup on took me about 10 minutes, so my curling iron should be heated up enough by now. I put beautiful spiral curls all over my hair because I am trying to look my best for Dustin tonight. I don’t want him thinking that I’m just some lazy crazy hormonal moody pregnant woman.
“Hot mama!” Dustin says, laughing, as I walk out of the bathroom.
“Shut up!” I say, teasing.
“You look gorgeous, and I’m lucky to call you mine. I’m honored to be the father of our child. I bet she’ll be flawless, just like her mama.” He says, lovingly.
“Thanks, babe. That meant the world to me! Aww, you’re so sweet. You’re going to be such a great daddy!” I tell him, with a big smile on my face.
“Well, darling, we better get going because it’s almost 5:00.” He says, looking at his watch.
He grabs my hand and tells him me how much he loves me. We start putting our coat and shoes on, getting ready to leave. Then I grab my purse and we make our way to the car. I fell asleep in the car because it was such a long boring ride. I am awakened to Dustin kissing my forehead—telling me that we have arrived at the scare house.
Dustin pay’s for our tickets (what a gentleman), then he grabs my hand tightly, and we walk into the scare house. A clown jumped out at me and scared the heck out of me! I could feel my heartbeat beating out of my chest. Thump. Thump. All of a sudden a sharp pain overwhelms me and then I feel an odd sensation—which I think means that my water broke. My baby girl must be scared of clowns too because she decided that she wanted to come right when he jumped out at me.
“Honey. I think it’s time to deliver our baby. “I tell Dustin, breathing through the contractions.
“Oh my gosh, are you serious…now?! But you’re too early to deliver—you’re only 6 months pregnant!” He says, stuttering.
“Yes. Now. Let’s go.. NOW!” I yell at him, rubbing my baby-bump.
“Okay. Let’s go deliver our baby girl then!” He says, nervously.
He picks me up and holds me in his arms and carries me to the car then we quickly rush to the hospital. My contractions keep coming more close together and are getting much more severely painful each time. They take me into the baby delivery room and tell me that my baby is going to be 3 months premature but that it was time to push and that I couldn’t wait any longer. “PUSH! PUSH!” yells all of the doctors. It is 9:31 at night and my baby girl Justice comes out kicking and screaming. I say a prayer to god, thanking him for letting my little angel be alive. Dustin walks over and tells me how good of a job I did and how beautiful she is.
Justice weighed less than 2 pounds and was only 13 inches long. Dustin picked her up, and she fit in the palm his hand with her feet lying on the top of his wrist. She was tiny! The doctor’s put cabbage patch kid clothes on her because even premature clothes were still too big to fit my baby girl. I couldn’t see Justice for 3 days because I was way too sick. Today is the day that I finally get to see my little angel. The doctor walks me back to the NICU where my baby is at. I start laughing because I was so happy and grateful that she was alive and beautiful. But now I have tears running down my face because of what she looked like. Justice has tubes in her throat, an IV in her head, and monitors on her chest and feet. She looked so sick, and so fragile. My poor baby girl has to get surgery even though she’s only 2 days old. She needs an ileostomy bag. Watching them reel my 2 day old newborn into the surgery room is the hardest thing that I’ve ever watched in my life! Tears start rolling down the side of my face faster than the speed of lightning and my body is trembling with the fear that something bad is going to happen. I can’t lose another baby!!
My baby girl is now 1 year old. Today I noticed that she is slower than some kids at things like eating, walking, or talking. Taking care of my baby girl that has an ileostomy bag is a lot of work. Changing that bag on her stomach is a gross chore—but it needs to be done, carefully. I am staying by her side 24/7 and I am there for my sweet daughter whenever she needs me. Justice is still very tiny and sick girl and has been in and out of the hospital every month with bronchitis. She is God’s gift from heaven. She is lucky to be alive. She was a miracle baby sent to me and is a true blessing to be here. I couldn’t image my life without her. Dustin and I both love her to pieces. She has already made me such a better person and Dustin is such an amazing daddy (which I always knew he’d be).
Side note: This is a 100% true story because the first part about the miscarriage is exactly what happened to my grandma when she had her miscarriage. The second part about the 3 month premature baby is the story of me and what happened to me when I was born. And for those of you who are wondering, that picture of the baby up there is me when I was born!
Thanks for reading, lovelys. <3
Here are some pictures of me when I was a baby:
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