At 16 I was told I’d have a hard time carrying children. At 21 I was told I wouldn’t even be able to get pregnant. I didn’t have a regular period, ever. My husband and I decided that was that and just went on with our lives.
I was driving home one day when I started to doze off. I pulled over and pulled myself to together. As soon as I got home I went straight to the bathroom and took a pregnancy test. (I stockpiled them because of my anxiety.) Two lines popped up. I went into an IMMEDIATE panic attack and yelled for my husband. He came in the bathroom and held me as we were both speechless. The next day I got a blood positive and made an appointment with an ob/gyn. I was 6 weeks at the time. For 4 weeks I took my vitamins, exercised, dropped caffeine and sugar, and ate very healthy. I read baby books, watched YouTube videos and had 10 pregnancy apps. I couldn’t get enough information. Every Thursday I couldn’t wait to get that email saying I was another week along and I’d look up what was growing in the baby that week.
Finally, 10 weeks came. I went in for my ultrasound with my husband by my side. The doctor began my transvaginal ultrasound and within minutes the silence told me everything I needed to know. He said it was a “missed abortion.” My baby died around a week before I even found out I was pregnant. For 4-5 weeks I walked around thinking “I’m going to be a mom.” I was always on Pinterest planning baby showers, nursery ideas, and birthday parties.
She, and I believe it was a she, was to be named Adalynn Jade. For over a month my child was dead inside me. I had surgery the next day and the first thing I did when I woke up, before I even had time to open my eyes, was say “they took my baby” to anybody that would hear me. I’d be 27 weeks today. It’s only gotten harder.
-Jessica Autumn Stamper