I found out I was pregnant with our first son after 3 years of trying in early March. We have 2 daughters already. My due date was November 13, 2017. A day I'll never get to have. At 7 weeks I started having very light spotting. I went to the ER, Diagnosed with subchorionic hemorrhage. My obgyn reassured me that lots of women have this and go on to have perfectly healthy babies. She told me not to worry too much about and put me on pelvic rest with a 10 pound lifting restriction. I kept spotting off and on from 7 weeks to 13 weeks when I finally quit spotting. I was finally in my 2nd trimester and feeling so much better. In my 18th week I got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. The bleeding returned a little more heavy than before. I called my obgyn they got me in the next day for an ultrasound that's when I heard the 4 words that no mother ever wants to hear "there is no heartbeat." I was admitted to the hospital and induced that same day to give birth to my dead son. I labored 48 hours. I had the urge to go pee, the nurse insisted I use the bed pan since I had been taking pain meds and was unsteady. That's when it happened, no pushing or anything. My baby was born in a bed pan. It was heartbreaking to know I gave birth to my precious angel in a bed pan. He resembled my youngest daughter so much. He was tiny, he was perfect. We named him Lucas Owen. A few days later we gave him a funeral. I kept hurting and bleeding a week after his birth I had to have a d&c for retained placenta. A few days later I couldn't take the grief anymore. I became suicidal and checked myself in to a behavioral health hospital. It's been 2 1/2 weeks since I lost my child. I'm still having nightmares and flashbacks daily. I don't sleep well at night, I'm just so broken. I'm currently thinking of checking back in to the facility. I have no quality of life anymore. I'm just existing.