Last night, I was at an event at the Chicago Cultural Center. I’m a mentor for a Chicago Public School student, and I was escorting him around a career fair. At the end of the night, I had to use the bathroom, so followed the signs down the ramp to the ladies room …. and remembered.
The last time I was in the Chicago Cultural Center was in August 2013. I was there also with my student, for a back-to-school kick off event to help the students set academic goals for the year.
I was six weeks pregnant. I wasn’t feeling well; I had terrible nausea, fatigue and discomfort. At the end of the night, I had to use the bathroom, so followed the signs down the ramp to the ladies room to pee. And there was blood. Bright, red blood, with small clots in it.
I didn’t know it at the time, but this was the beginning of everything about to go wrong in the next 18 weeks. What I did know was that red blood was bad, very bad. I hurried outside and called K; she picked me up and we drove straight to the ER, where we would be for the next 8 hours (until around 4 a.m.). The bleeding had stopped and we saw the baby’s heartbeat, so I was reassured.
I shouldn’t have been.