Trevor Bryce

I haven't written in a couple of weeks. Allen's work schedule has been crazy and then he was asked to preach last Sunday's sermon so that took precedence.

I've had a few weepy days but I'm not ready to put it out there what triggered them because it may be taken wrong if any of the parties involved read it. So today I'm going to tell the story of my precious Trevor Bryce.

Allen and I were always hyper-vigilant with practicing birth control because I was pretty sure that he believed we were done having children. Secretly I believed (pined for) a third child. I really wanted to be pregnant one more time. But we started to be a little more careless/carefree about birth control.

In January of 2011 I got a really bad sinus infection and upper respiratory infection combo and decided to break down and go to the doctor. At this time I was not exactly late on my period but I did "feel" pregnant. Every time I've been pregnant, I've "felt" pregnant. I've always been very in tune with my body and I just know. The doctor gave me several prescriptions and cautioned me not to take them if I thought I was pregnant. I told her I thought there was a chance. She said we should just go ahead and test. It was negative. I knew it would be. It was too soon to show up on a doctor's test. I decided to only take the antibiotic since the others could be harmful in pregnancy because I knew I was. I thought that would be safe.

Sure enough, a couple of days later I got my positive test. Twice. Every other day I'd test to be sure. Seven tests total! Allen wasn't super thrilled at this point but he wasn't super mad either so I said I'd take it. After all, he had nine months to get used to the idea.

I wanted to start telling people right away but he didn't. When we got pregnant with our girls we told everyone we knew the minute we had two lines on the stick. I had no reason to think this would be any different.

We took the kids to eat and told them. Kinsey was not happy. Shelby was over the moon. We started talking names over the next several days and the name Trevor Bryce stuck. Everyone agreed and agreed quickly which was unusual for us. We knew we were going to have our boy.

I made a doctor's appointment but I was going to have to wait several weeks. I was only 4 1/2 weeks and they wouldn't see me until 6-8 weeks. FOREVER!

Slowly we were telling people. So the word was getting out. I would be 37 when the baby was born.

We don't have a big house so I though we should start right away preparing because it would take a while. We bought the girls bunk beds and moved them in together. Looking back I feel so foolish and am amazed at how much we actually did get done in that short time.

That next Saturday night, I convinced Allen and the girls that we should go to Babies 'R Us just to look around and get ideas. We were having so much fun. We had walked over half the store when I needed to go to the restroom. I made my way to the back of the store to the restrooms. (The next bit may be TMI but it's how it happened) I had a strong BM. When I wiped there was a small amount of blood. I was a little concerned but not panicky. I was sure I was fine, but as I was washing my hands I felt like I needed to go back in and make sure. I wiped again and there was a little more blood. I went cold. I just knew. Nothing like this had ever happened with the girls. I found Allen and said I need to go home. I'm bleeding. He took me home.

I spotted off and on all night. The next morning I told Allen and the girls to go on to church. I was in touch with the on call nurse all morning. She was not much help and no comfort. If I was losing the pregnancy I was just losing it. Nothing could be done. If the bleeding filled a pad then I was to go to the ER. If not, call the office first thing in the morning for an appointment.

It did not fill a pad but it did increase as did the cramps. I prayed, pleaded and yelled at God to please not do this. To please not take my baby. I hoped but I knew.

I didn't want to go to the doctor alone but Allen had to work so I got my mother to go with me to sit in the waiting room. They took me back for an ultrasound. The tech asked me why I had come in as she was examining me. I told her I was pregnant. She said, "Hmmm...Are you sure about your dates because I'm seeing nothing. There's nothing there. Look." There's nothing in your head either, lady! I wanted to punch her in the face.

So I went upstairs to get my blood and urine tests. My doctor came in with the same attitude as the ultrasound tech. He came in very clinical asking about dates, etc. I told him about the seven positive tests. He then proceeded to unload statistics about my advanced age, being overweight, my thyroid and all these miscarriage probabilities. Just me and him alone in this room. I refused to cry in front of this man who was just doing his job. Here I was bleeding out my baby and him in his crisp white lab coat.

I headed to the waiting room with all these women in various stages of pregnancy to my Mama. We left.

I was embarrassed.
I felt like maybe I was crazy. Maybe I had imagined everything.
I also felt very guilty. Like shouldn't have taken the antibiotics or I should have started prenatal vitamins earlier.
My body had failed.
All all those people we told! My gosh, how in the world do you un-tell people about being pregnant?
I felt like this was my last chance to be pregnant and I blew it.
I felt empty. Very empty.
I felt alone.
I felt sad.

I kept trying to console myself. Be glad for your two healthy kids. Be glad you weren't further along. Can you imagine how hard it would be if you had gotten more attached? Be glad it took care of itself naturally. Be glad you didn't have to raise a special needs child. Be glad you didn't tell any more people than you did.

Let me tell you - that's all BULL GARBAGE!! I figured that's what I would hear from other people and I figured that's that's what you were supposed to tell people who lost a pregnancy. I figured I'd feel better after I told myself all those things and that I had better be the one to comfort myself because there's no way I could tell people about this and make other people uncomfortable!

This is how I felt after I lost my first angel, Trevor. I wish I could say I've done a complete about face and don't believe any of this mess but sometimes I do believe it - a little. I don't want people to feel awkward. I AM glad I wasn't further along.

But I don't want to always stuff it either. And if I'm really honest, I do wish it had been further. I wish I had seen him on an ultrasound. Seen his little flicker of a heart beating. Seen him rolling around. Felt him rumbling and tumbling in my belly. Heard him scream when they popped him out. Rubbed my nose in his fuzzy newborn head. Be exhausted now at 40 years old because I have a house full of tonka trucks and Bob the Builder toys and a 3 1/2 year old dirty faced, black haired little boy to chase! OH GOD! I just want my boy!! I ache for my boy!

I was confused about how to grieve this loss or if I was supposed to grieve at all. I made baby steps and did grieve along the way. I would pull it out and cry and then put it away and try not to think about it. I just needed to get over it or so I thought. I was really about to get over it (or so I thought) when my due date - what I call Trevor's birthday - rolled around. I told my boss that I wanted to take that day off. My reasoning was I wasn't supposed to be there anyway and I just really wanted to be alone. So I put in my request for leave for October 24, 2011. She was less than supportive. She just couldn't understand what the big deal was. That reinforced the idea that I couldn't trust people with this. She didn't really want to let me take off but I did. I'm glad I did.

I began to heal. Allen and I were working through some things. He was even warming up to the idea of maybe really trying on purpose to get pregnant. And miracle of miracles in June of 2013, I did. But that's a story for another day.