Today is today, but yesterday is still here

Everyone's miscarriage experience is different. We all find out, and experience it different.
Some get to feel their baby kick, some get to see one good sonogram before they get the bad news, some get to carry them for several months. None of these scenarios is easy. They all end in pain.
For me, with my first, I suspected I was pregnant. I didn't know for sure. When I finally got to take an EPT, it came out negative. Three negative tests later, I was convinced I was losing my mind. Finally, I was forced to go to the doctor for a blood test. The blood test was negative. So, I took that to be the end of the speculation. Every article online that I read, said the blood test was fool-proof. If I was pregnant, it would for sure come out positive. That was the end of February 2008.
By the first of April, I had been bleeding for days, and bleeding really heavy. Almost hemorraging, it felt like. I couldn't barely get out of bed the pain in my abdomen was so bad.
I went to the ER one state away so that my family wouldn't find out. When I could finally be seen, the doctor suggested a D&C. I was shocked. I thought that I wasn't pregnant. Dr. Knight informed me that I had developed an infection from the fetus that wouldn't pass from my body on its own.
They deduced my baby had "expired" a week before, and my body hadn't wanted to let go. That makes sense. The next several hours went by in a blur. I laid there, with no drugs, listening as they surgically removed my baby from me. That sound stays with me to this day.
With my second, here just recently, I suspected I was miscarrying. The bleeding lasted for almost a month, and the pain was unbearable. But with everything that was going on, I put off seeing a doctor. I was hoping I was wrong. The first week of October, I finally went to the doctor, one I trusted very much, to give me the answer I needed. I had a sonogram. There was something there, but no movement. No heartbeat. They took the bloodwork, and promised to get back to me the next week.
I tried to deaden myself to the possibility that I had been pregnant, and once again, my body had rebeled. I couldn't take another miscarriage. But a month later, when I had heard nothing from Dr. Jacobs, I called the office to inquire of my results. The pregnancy test had been positive. My HcG levels had been declining, as they had with Alexa, and eventhough there had been no heartbeat with the first sonogram, I was advised to get another blood test done.
That test came out negative. My two doctors conversed over my records, and it was concluded that I had miscarried and successfully passed the baby this time. I was devastated. My life was falling apart.
Now, a month after the news, I am trying my hardest to use my grief in a positive sense. I want to help other women. I don't want to be that zombie I was after my first. I want to honor my Angels by helping others cope with their loss and remembrance.