I had a miscarriage in March 1999. It’s hard to believe it was that long ago.

I was 12 weeks along at the time.

I began having horrible cramps one morning while at work. I called my doctor’s office and they said “It’s probably nothing.”

After several more hours, and my co-workers becoming increasing concerned – I called the doctor’s office again and insisted I come in. They didn’t seem too concerned.

Thankfully, my co-workers called my husband (I didn’t have the presence of mind to do that). So, he met me there.

We went in to the ultrasound room and they did a vaginal ultrasound. He had been on his way home after picking up my 3-year-old daughter so she came with him.

The technician looked at a few things and said, “As you can see here is the embryo and here is the heart and it isn’t beating.”

So, that took a few seconds to sink in. My train of thought went like this, “What does she mean by the heart isn’t beating? Oh, NO. I understand what she means. This is awful.” Then, the crying started.

I then went in to see the doctor who scheduled a D&E for the following day. The nice thing was that I was able to leave by a back entrance and didn’t have to walk by all the pregnant bellies on my way back to the car. It was a big doctor’s office so there were generally many pregnant women in the waiting room at one time. At that time, I was so sad that I was no longer one of them. It was more of the loss of hope than anything else.

The next day the D&E procedure was a blur. I do remember the anesthesiologist saying, “We’ll see you back here in 9 months.” I asked him what he meant and he said that women were more fertile after a miscarriage and tended to get pregnant again quickly. So, that gave me some hope.

I had the D&E done on a Friday and my parents live 4 hours away at the beach. So, on Saturday, against doctor’s orders – we loaded up the car and drove to the beach. It was what I needed mentally. I was able to just sit in a beach chair and read a book and not really have to deal with anything. My husband and my parents looked after my daughter and it was just very soothing. I was lucky that I didn’t hemoragge or whatever the concern was.

I did end up getting pregnant again and had my son Justin in June 2000. So, it was 6 months later than the anesthesiologist had predicted. But, it was fine. He’s 8 years old now. I also have another son Brendan who was born in 2004. So, we’ve got three – a girl and two boys and my hands are full. We’ve been very blessed.