I went to sleep on May 21st, 2012 at 5:00 am. Little did I know that it was the last time that I would enjoy a full day as a mother-to-be.

I woke up at 8:00 am with a constant cramp in my uterus, that stayed the same amount of pain and never let up. Thinking that I had to poop, I ate a bunch of fiber. I went to the bathroom and I peed blood out vaginally, about a palm-full. I checked the color, bright-red. I started freaking out. I called 911. The ambulance saw me come out of the house and walk right towards them and walk right in. They didn't have to wait.

I quickly became annoyed at the personnell asking me the same questions 123120312312 times. I just shouted "YES!" and then they left me alone.

I was seen less than 2 hours later. I was brought into a room and I was in a wheelchair. When I stood up, about 10+ clots came out and poured down my leg. I opened the door to where the doctors were and pointed to my bloody leg and feet, and demanded to be seen. A nurse came in, cleaned me up, and took my blood.

I was seen within half an hour. The doctor couldn't get the specullum in, there was so much blood that was constantly pouring out. So he felt around physically, said that the cervix is still closed, and that's a good sign, but I was still bleeding, which is not. He tried the doppler to hear the baby's heartbeat. Nothing. He tried to calm me down by saying that the ultrasound would hear it, and the doppler can't always pick it up. When he left, a huge amount of clots came out on the table. When the nurse came in, she asked if the doctor took those out of me. I said no. She didn't believe me, and went out to ask the doctor. He confirmed that he hadn't removed anything. I asked the nurse when she came back, if she thought it was a miscarriage. She said yes, that sometimes there were miracles, but to prepare myself. I was put in a bed in the hallway as I waited for the ultrasound. I started preparing for the miscarriage probability.

I waited 4-5 hours for the ultrasound since I started bleeding. I went to the bathroom every half an hour only to have 10+ clots fall out, my panties, pad, sink, toilet and floor over-flowing with blood and clots. This happened at least 4 times. I took photos of the clots in case some stupid people out there were going to say that I was lying. I stopped taking photos after 3 episodes of clots.

Finally they took me to an ultrasound, I had already peed though and I needed a full bladder, they took one look at my pad and knew that they needed to to it now. I went in and they did the ultrasound. All they found in my uterus was debris and clots, no baby. I was crying so hard. I had lost my little miracle. When the technician came in, I yelled at her for waiting so long. They said that they did it as fast as they could, but I told them that it wasn't fast enough. I told them that the life of a child is the most important thing in the world and they waited too long. Now we didn't know why the baby miscarried, and I didn't get to see my little angel one last time. I was furious, sad, miserable, and desperate to blame someone, as came the normal stages of grief. I however skipped denial altogether; when you're bleeding and clotting that much, you can't deny what is happening. There was also no heartbeat to be heard.

At 5:00 the doctor came and asked me if I was still bleeding. I said yes, and he could confirm with my nurse, who had helped clean me and change me over 5 times. In truth, the bleeding and clotting was getting worse. He looked at my IV bag, and I was on my second one. He said that my hormones were at 2559 hcg, WAY too low for a woman 11 weeks 1 day pregnant. I'm supposed to be at about 200,000. He said that I was severely dehydrated, I had lost too much blood and that it was dangerous for my life at this point. Basically, I was bleeding to death. He said that he ordered a d and c.

So this surgery was ordered to save my life. I signed the consent forms while specifying that I did not want to be put to sleep during the procedure. At that point, I was tempted to just tell them to let me bleed out so that I could be with my baby. I was at a loss of all hope. I had lost my job, my wife, and now my child. I never felt so goddamn alone. I kept having contractions and I kept bleeding. I went into the bathroom, and that's when I saw my baby.

It wasn't easy finding my baby in all of those clots. I just saw something that looked like it had an eye. I picked it up, and it had little arms, and an umbellical cord coming from its belly. I put the body in a plastic bag and hid it in my purse. There was no way that I would put my baby's body in the trash or flush it down the toilet.

So at 5:30pm, the gynocologist came with the wheeled surgical bed I was to be transported in. I asked him all of my questions. He said the procedure was very much like an abortion, but the baby was already dead and this procedure was to save my life. He told me the amount of miscarriages that I have had is not normal, and he wanted me to test for infertility, and he gave me an appointment in 4 months. He perscribed me yasmin (birth control pill) for a year. He told me no exercise for at least 2 weeks, and I needed 6 weeks to recover, because I was basically going through labor. He said my cervix was already dilated so he wouldn't need to dilate it further. He said that the d & c wouldn't stop me from getting pregnant again, and to call right away if I get symptoms of an infection. I told him not to put me to sleep, he asked why. I said, because if I didn't remember the procedure, I would wake up and think that it was all just a bad dream.

I was wheeled over to the surgical room and the meds were put in my IV. My arms were strapped down, I asked why. They said it was because I would go limp, and they didn't want me to hurt myself.

I remember the gyno telling me to stop asking him a bunch of questions and let him to his job (I kept asking him questions, but wouldn't you when you were about to go through your first operation?) I thought that was rather rude, but it was either let him or die. At that point I had to listen, even if I didn't, the consent form was signed and I was already strapped down.

I remember the instrument being put in me and the pain that I felt. It was up my cervix and had just reached my uterus when the memory-suppressing effect of the meds kicked in.

I came-to again at 6:00 pm. I asked the nurse what happened. She said that I had moved and struggled, and that I needed to be held down by 3 people. It made me smile a bit knowing that even as I was dying, I was still strong and went down with a fight to the last minute to protect my child. She told me that they had inserted tylenol through my rectum, and that I had given her a funny face when they did it. She was shocked that I didn't remember that. The procedure took less than 5 minutes. I asked if the baby came out, she said yes (although she was wrong) and I demanded to see the baby. She went to the lab since they were running tests on what they took out. They brought the little jar to me. It was just blood and floating pieces of placenta. I shook my head and told her that my baby was not in there. She said that the baby must have passed through in the clots.

I was in the recovery room for two hours, where a nurse put me in the delivery room where I was surrounded by women and their children in the rooms next to mine, there were maternity photos, and the maternity bed and epidural were right next to mine. The nurse held my hand as I cried and told her all about what I had lost, my child and how I felt, and she had tears in her eyes as she listened to me. She was very supportive, in fact there are tears in my eyes right now as I remember what she did for me. She got me a pair of pants and hospital-issue underwear so I could go home, since mine were soiled. She called me a taxi and the hospital would pay for the ride home, because it was about 2-3 miles to walk to my place, and I wasn't allowed exercise for 2 weeks and I was in the danger of falling, so they had to find a way for me to get home. It was 8:00 pm, and honestly that nurse was an angel. I wish that I had gotten her name, but I still haven't forgotten her face.

I went home in the taxi and acted normally so he wouldn't suspect a thing. The meds in my body were making me change moods, trying to keep me mellow. I went home, saw my roommate later, changed my pad and watched as the bleeding got a LOT better. The bleeding stopped completely 12 days after the miscarriage.

On May 29th, 2012 at 3:00 pm to 4:00 pm a memorial ceremony was held in Salon Funéraire Desrochers & Oligny Ltée by Seigneur Andre. I bought a time capsule and put in it a white baby outfit for my baby, a journal that I write letters to Rowan in, a glass binkie, a multicolored baby shoe and a lock of my hair. There is a small monument for Rowan that I had customized, and when I find a burial place I will bury the time capsule and place the monument on top of it. I also made a scrapbook with all of my memories of my baby.

On May 30th, 2012 my mother and I went to Perth, Ontario to plant a pink lilac tree in Rowan's honor. As I planted the tree, the three nuns chanted blessings for my child, myself and for the tree to grow well. They were so kind and I will never forget their hospitality.

Rest in peace my angel. I love you, I miss you, and we will meet again someday.