On Friday December 6th I went to the doctor. During this visit, I was told that I was seven weeks pregnant. Words could not describe the elation and anticipation I was feeling at the reported news. Excitedly, before leaving the doctor's office I had informed my husband and entire family. I felt that I was receiving my Christmas present nineteen days early this year.
My first pregnancy exam was scheduled for the 23rd, just two days before Christmas. The visit to the doctor proved incredible and I was able to see the baby on the monitor. My doctor informed me that everything was well and the expected day of arrival for the new baby.
This past Christmas Eve, one of my favorite nights, I spent the night with family. This Christmas Eve was the first in my sister's new house and she had a dinner for the family. It was a spectacular evening. I was spending it with
My son stayed with my parents the night I came back from the hospital, my husband and myself felt it would be best if he did not see us so distraught and consumed with the lose of our unborn child. I wanted time to grieve and to feel sorry for what could have been in the future. I under estimated the importance of my son being able to understand the situation and the emotions. He has been supportive in a childlike way and has been my strength to deal with this grievous incident.
For days, I continued to experience pain and discomfort and knew that there was something wrong with my pregnancy. The weekend before New Year's Eve I went to the hospital to face the inevitable, I had lost the baby.
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