It was 1990. When we started trying to become pregnant, 8 years after we got married, it didn’t take long. Everything was well. At 19.5 weeks, the day before my loss, I had an ultrasound. The baby was active, everything was fine. We were lying in bed that night. All of a sudden I had a gush of fluid. I knew my water had broken. I called the doctor; she sent me to the hospital.
I was scheduled for an ultrasound the next morning. When I went, his heart was beating but he wasn’t moving. There was no amniotic fluid. I watched him quietly; I still had hope. On my way back up to the ward, they put my file on my lap and at the top someone had written “inevitable abortion.”
My body went into labour. It was difficult because my body wasn’t ready. When the baby came, they said, “Don’t look,” and took him away. I asked if it was a boy or girl and they said, “Boy.” I never got to hold him or see him. I was placed in the maternity ward, which added to the trauma of the loss.
We started to try again. I found a good OB/GYN, as it had been a year after our loss and I still wasn’t pregnant. He was a great doctor, but his office would always be full of pregnant women. That lasted four years. Intimacy revolved around childbearing and that was hard for our marriage.
I finally got pregnant again in 1994, and everything looked good. They thought I had lost my first baby due to incompetent cervix, so they put in a cerclage this time. I did stop working, but in the back of my mind I kept thinking, “What if I lose this baby, too?”
I was 17.5 weeks, sitting at home, and when I stood up, I felt that gush again. It didn’t take as long this time, but I went into labour and had our second son, Jonathan. This time the hospital staff were very good. They let us hold him. He was perfect, so it made me believe that my body was to blame.
About a year later, I became pregnant with my daughter. I got another cerclage and went on bedrest at 12 weeks. Near the end of pregnancy, I was induced at 38 weeks and gave birth to Katrina.
After almost two more years of trying, I finally became pregnant again in 1998. I started miscarrying very shortly after I found out, maybe 8 weeks into the pregnancy. I started bleeding one day and I just knew. Once I felt contractions starting, I went to our bathroom and I laboured and delivered into the toilet. I flushed and that was really final and heavy for me.
I thought to myself with finality that our daughter will be an only child. I grieved that Katrina would never have siblings, but I focused on her and our life together. Although I grieved that loss, it was different from the others.
Waiting on Sunrise 