The M word is taboo and touchy to discuss.
I’m starting this post at the very early stages of it, so I’m not even sure what the rest of it will entail. But the amount of emotion, loss and love I’m feeling right now is tremendously heartbreaking.
To be perfectly honest I’m really surprised. I’m surprised at how sad I am. I didn’t think I’d be this sad. Disappointed? Yeah. Sad – heartbroken – distraught – traumatized – disgusted – scared – anxious – nervous – sad – tearful – numb. No, I didn’t expect to feel all of these things.
Today we were going to be announcing our pregnancy of our third baby. But instead I’m sitting here wondering if and when that third baby will arrive. Because now it’s really unknown. But what I do know is it won’t be in February of 2016 any longer.
That was supposed to be my due date. We planned for this baby. We calculated and wanted Cameron to be about 18 months older than our youngest. And that’s exactly what happened! It was all going according to our plan. I was pregnant! I was pregnant and feeling great. I wasn’t violently ill like I was last time. I wasn’t hurling in my car. I wasn’t hating life already. I was feeling good and sticking to my diet and drinking a gallon of water a day still. Working out regularly like I had been. Everything was going perfectly according to our plan.
Then at about 7.5 weeks I started bleeding. It was very subtle, just spotting really. Nothing to be concerned about because I did the same thing with Cameron. The same thing happened before and he was fine, perfectly healthy & beautiful. But it didn’t stop. My first prenatal appointment was approaching because I was almost 8 weeks, so I tried to not worry & just trust that everything was okay. Because I’ve already had one healthy pregnancy, so of course nothing could be wrong this time.
Tim went with me to the doctor. When my doctor came in she was so excited because I was pregnant again! She loves babies and had already given us the okay to get pregnant again for health purposes, so she was thrilled to see us again so soon since my last appointment a few months ago.
She wanted to get me on the ultrasound machine right away just to see the baby and make sure things were good. From that moment on it’s a little blurry. We went in, I laid down & she put the baby up on the screen. I didn’t see a flicker of a heartbeat. I squinted because I just figured it was me who just wasn’t seeing it. Then she called in the sonographer to look too. Then I knew it just wasn’t good.
There wasn’t a heartbeat. She said I’m probably just earlier than I thought I was.
No. Nope definitely not. Because this wasn’t an accident. I knew the exact dates of everything that had transpired. I wasn’t off on my timing. I knew I was exactly 8 weeks and 4 days.
They drew my blood before I left to check my hormone levels and I went back on Thursday to have my blood drawn again to compare my levels to Tuesday’s, but by then I already knew. I knew the outcome. I didn’t even need to do this, but I guess I just wanted some confirmation.
Later Thursday evening any doubts I had were solidified by the start of cramping and minor contractions. Without going into gruesome details I’ll leave it at that.
My doctor called me Friday to deliver the news telling me this wasn’t a viable pregnancy, but by then I clearly already knew that. The excruciating pain I was in was more than enough to squash any hopes I had that the baby was okay still and that I was just being paranoid.
The weekend seemed to last forever. I was in undeniable pain and it couldn’t have happened at a worse time. I was supposed to be leading worship that weekend, had a leadership meeting to attend and we were moving into our new house. All on top of losing our baby too.
I crumbled. Cancelled everything (other than the move) and was basically useless for several days. The weight I felt on my chest of having just lost our baby is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. I felt as if I failed. I failed my baby. I failed my husband. I failed our family. Why couldn’t my body do what it was supposed to to keep our baby alive?
And the one thought that kept circling was – what if that was my daughter? What if that was the only daughter I’m ever going to have? And now I don’t get to see her or meet her or hold her or snuggle her. But regardless of if it was a he or a she… it doesn’t matter. That was our baby. And now our baby is gone. Two weeks ago I was pregnant. And now I’m not. And I don’t even have a newborn here to kiss and share sleepless nights with.
I wanted to share my story because I know I am not the only woman to experience this. I know that 1 in every 4 women who get pregnant lose their babies. I know that it’s common. I know that both planned and unplanned pregnancies are lost in their first trimester. I am the reason why some doctors will suggest you wait 12 weeks to share your news. Yes, a life is a life no matter how small. Trust me, I 100% agree with that. My heartache and sadness can vouch that no matter how small – that life matters a great deal. However, we chose to wait because IF something happened, and it did happen, I didn’t want to grieve publicly. I wanted to be able to be sad and cry alone with my husband. Not share my grief with everyone while I’m still really sad and hurting.
But now I can talk about it and be okay with it. I’m still sad, but I can talk about it and not cry which is progress and which is where I wanted to be before we shared our loss with everyone else in our life. We have a wonderful support system which I’m extremely grateful for, however I know myself and I know how I grieve. So I know it would’ve been harder for me had everyone else known.
Everyone chooses to share their pregnancy news at different times, but I’m glad we decided to wait. I think the 12-week rule has it’s advantages and disadvantages. It gives you time to grieve first before you share the news, however it does tend to make women who have experienced loss feel like it should be kept a secret as if that life doesn’t matter because it was too small. It matters! No matter how small. For me it was a personal preference because of my grieving process, but I understand why some women don’t want to adhere to that. Not to mention the excitement you feel when you see those two lines…. it’s all you can do to not tell everyone you know!
That dirty “M” word though…. it happens. Miscarriages happen. And the most difficult part for everyone else around you is that it stirs up stark silence. No one knows what to say. But that’s okay. Just say you’re sorry for their loss and that you’re lifting them up in prayer. They’ve lost someone precious to them. They need your prayers. I know loss is something difficult to talk about, but it’s there and it exists in all our lives.
God has gotten us through this loss and is still working on us. I know there is a different plan for our lives and it’s hard to trust in that sometimes. However, this whole experience has taught me a lot about myself and yet again taught me the value of life.
“A persons a person no matter how small.” – Dr. Suess
A special thank you to our close friends and family who have been with us through this difficult time. Your support and encouragement means the world.
If you’ve experienced a loss my heart goes out to you and hurts for you. You are not alone. I found this article that perfectly said what I couldn’t say: http://www.stylist.co.uk/life/miscarriage.