I have a fiance, who once upon a time was wonderful. I had confidence, I loved myself, and I loved him. Things were going so well. he respected me, he treated me like a queen and I felt like one. I loved being myself. We found out we were having a baby! I was so excited, so were the kids, and he was over the moon. Every day I felt that little bean growing inside me, I dreamed about our future, about our hapiness, what our baby would be, boy or girl, what would we name the baby, who would the baby look like? Would he cry when our baby was born? Would I? For 3 months I got to hold on to my fantasies, dream of our futures, and then it happened.

I lost the baby. It started with minimal spotting, went to the doctor, terrified. They sent me for an untrasound right away. That afternoon I got to see my baby. I saw the little head, tiny hands and legs, there was my beautiful baby in sepia and black, heart beating away, right as it should be. Relief washed over me, I swelled with joy and pride, and thought that my doctor was right. It was just a little spotting. I went home, I kept my hand on my stomach and talked to our baby. My fiance was relieved with the news. I settled back into a routine over the next few days. Then it happened. I was sitting on the couch with my family, it was mothers day. and I felt this weird little ping, like a stitch being pulled, and I stood up. I felt the blood gush, I felt weak, rushed to the bathroom, and realized I was bleeding too much for this to be normal. I drove myself to the hospital, I don't know why. I wanted to do this alone. I didn't want to have an audience.

Emergency had me sit in the waiting room for over an hour. It's weird, the things you worry about. I remember getting up every ten minutes to change my pad, because I was bleeding so much and I was terrified I would bleed through and have to walk through the hospital with blood all over my ass..I know…I wasn't thinking straight. Finally, they bring me back, and sit me down. They listen to the heart beat, and it is fine. They tell me that this does happen. Not often, but it does. They tell me I can go home but I won't. I am bleeding so heavily that in the fifteen minutes I sat on the white cott, I saturated it with blood. My nurse asked me if I was wearing a pad, and I was. I had just put one on right before coming in. He turned a little white, and before it could go any further, another woman came in, with the same symptoms, and they rushed me out to a cott in the hallway and cleaned up the room, and rushed her in.

I remember seeing them draw the curtain around her, and seeing blood, just like I had moments before, on my own legs. I heard her scream, I felt faint, I started crying, and realized the bleeding was even heavier. My socks and shoes were soaked. Nurses and doctors were passing me by, unaware that I was even there. I quietly slipped off to the bathroom, sat on the toilet, and could actually hear the blood coming out of me and into the toilet. I was bleeding so heavily that I could HEAR IT! At that moment I felt the contractions, and felt incredibly weak and could not stand. I heard the noise. The noise that no Pregnant woman wants to hear in this situation. I will not do the indignity to my child by explaining this sound, when my childs life ceased to exist. I pulled the call button, my nurse tore into the washroom, looked at me, and i willl never forget seeing tears in his eyes. He knew. Without looking, without me saying anything he knew. He helped my up, gave me one of those diapers for the elderly, and quiety scooped my child out of the toilet. Not a word was spoken up until this point. I washed my hands, he gave my tiny just forming baby to the doctor, came back in the bathroom, and just stood with me. Waited for me to come to terms with what just happened.

He lead me out into the hallway, back to the cott wheeled up in front of the nurses station and I sat. With no pride, No dignity, wearing an adult diaper under a blood soaked gown, no longer did I have life inside of me. The baby's or my own. I felt dead inside. I sat there for what seemed like hours but was only tens of minutes, and stared at the wall. Then the flood gates opened and I could not contain my tears. I cried, my nurse, he put his arm around me and told me everything will be ok. Another nurse, a middle aged black woman, sat beside me on the cott, put an arm around me, and cried. We sat there for a few minutes crying, and she whispered to me, because I am sure she wasnt allowed to tell me, but for whatever reason, she felt she needed to. She told me that she had a miscarriage, it was ten years ago, and not a year, month, week or day goes by that she does not remember. She told me it still hurts, ten years later, but that she was strong and that I am strong and that I will get through this. I remember how greatful I was for her at that very moment. To not fill me with the standard " it will be ok" bullshit. Her raw honesty, her tears, and her arm around me, oh I was so greatful.

They were going to send me home now, I was scared because I was still bleeding, but they said I was OK. I tried telling them how badly I was bleeding but they thought I was scared, emotional, and exaggerating. I called my fiance, I was going home now. He arrived and I took a walk with him while I waited for discharge instructions. On my walk, I hemmorhaged. I felt the blood, I felt once again my body drain, and what happened next happened so fast. I remember kissing him goodbye, a doctor, a surgeon, and three nurses running toward me, grabbing a wheelchair, sitting me in it, calling up to the OR to have it prepped ASAP. they asked me if I drank or ate, and I did. They said to each other they would do what was necessary, but I needed in that OR right now. I was rushed up the emergency elevator, wheeled into the OR, now wearing the pants my fiance brought me and undies and shirt and bra. I asked where i should go to get undressed, they said there was no time, they would do it when i was asleep, they telled out orders for blood bank to send up bags, they pushed forms in front of me to sign, and fitted a mask over my mouth as i signed. They explained the porocedure as I was getting the first of the gasses, and then I counted down. I remembered thinking, I could die. I wanted to see my kids, my fiance, one last time. I felt a single tear, and then I was out.

I woke up in recovery. The nurses were so compassionate, so kind. They told me what happened, now that I was calm and not at risk. I was bleeding out, needed transfusions and an emergency D&C. I could have died. Then I remembered why i was there and what I lost. This was the exact moment in time that depression set in. I have not been the same since, we have not been the same since.

Life has been dark. A year later I found out I had cervial cancer, stage 0. Now I am facing a hysterectomy because it came back after surgery, and may not be able to conceive . HOW am I supposed to smile. I have gained weight, I have lost myself, I have built up this wall and I do not know how to tear it down. My fiance is a different person. We fight daily, without warning, we fight. Over nothing, and everything. He had an affair that he will not own up to, even when I threw the evidence in his face. I want to give up but can;t because I have two children that need me. I want to hide for ever, but I also want to find my old self. How do I fix me???