This post was published several years ago back in June 2011. I am posting it fresh today because this loss is fresh on my mind and I am in the thick of life after a miscarriage. I am so excited to be working with two amazing friends and fellow bloggers, Kristi Dalnoky from Klover House and Becky Mansfield from Your Modern Family. We have been writing a book all about our experiences with miscarriage and how we are managing this loss. We are so excited to announce that it is finished and released to you! Click here to read more about the book and then click here to download it.
Our hope is that this book will help other grieving mothers out there who unfortunately will go though this too. When we first experienced our miscarriages, there weren’t many resources available to read. Our hope is that mothers know that they are not alone.
Today, I think about my loss and pray for all the other mamas out there going through similar experiences. Hugs to you.
Pain, loss, hope and seeing life in a new way – life can change so quickly. So many emotions when a miscarriage happens. Faith is questioned.
Sometimes we find ourselves in the impossible.
We are completely lost. We prepare ourselves for so many things. Yet, when we least expect it, our worlds can be totally turned upside down. Everything can change in a blink of an eye.
On February 13th, 2011, I took a test. Positive. I took another. Positive again. Brian was in our office paying bills and I smiled and said, “You are going to be a daddy again.” He was absolutely thrilled. He stood up and gave me a big bear hug and a kiss. I was scared as hell.
I suppose from the beginning I had a feeling in my gut something wasn’t right. I felt very apprehensive about sharing our news, but the hubster was so excited so I agreed to tell our close family one Sunday afternoon -we were 6 and a half weeks. This time felt different compared to Madilyn. My energy was really low. I just didn’t feel good at all. I could barely walk around the block without wanting to take a nap. Forget training for the 1/2 marathon I just signed up for. I just thought to myself, “every pregnancy is different.” I started taking my weekly pregnancy photos. Like the “perfect” mama I strive to be, I better do everything for this baby that I did for Madilyn! No pressure, right?
On March 19th we had a wedding in Philadelphia. I left Madilyn with Mam-Maw and Pappy overnight for the first time. I cried my eyes out as we drove away. I enjoyed the wedding, sober of course, with a bun in the oven.
On March 24th, I went into my OB/GYN’s office for a routine appointment. She asked me how I am feeling. I told her “like shit.” She said “that’s normal this early on.” She searched for a heart beat. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. “No worries,” she says. “This is still so early but let’s get an ultrasound scheduled anyway.” Okie dokie. I began to panic. No heart beat? WTF? Ultrasound scheduled for March 31st. Yes my friends, I was asked to wait a damn week. I was pissed and scared out of my mind.
Two days later, my sisters and I throw my parents a surprise 35th wedding anniversary party with all of their closest friends and family. They are completely surprised. Brian and I decide to tell a few more people that Madilyn is going to be a big sister! Hugs all around.
The next day, our sweet Madilyn is baptized at our church and we have a celebration at our house. I use the restroom and I have some spotting. “Oh no,” I remember saying out loud. “Interesting,” I thought to myself. I pull Brian out of the crowd and tell him what is going on. My husband, “the glass is always half-full” man, tells me all is OK. I know in my gut something is wrong. I feel cramping. Not good. Later that night the bleeding gets a little heavier so I call the on-call doctor and she says to rest. Ok lady, I have a toddler. “Absolutely,” I say to her. “I will be a good girl.” Of course, because I am a chronic perfectionist, I go back to the party, put on a happy face, clean dishes. Yeah I was on my feet until like 11 PM.
That night I wake up around 3 AM with gut wrenching cramps. I knew at that moment I was losing this pregnancy. I woke Brian up frantically. Being the optimist that he is, he said not to worry. He immediately gets on his Blackberry and begins Googling “early miscarriage” and “spotting.” God love him. I cried myself to sleep in Brian’s arms that night.
The next morning I wake up around 7 AM, the cramps worsening and I was losing so much blood. Brian calls the doctor for me. They can fit me in a 11 AM. Oh thanks. Thanks for getting me in so soon assholes. My mom comes over and holds me while I cry like a baby in my bed. I am scared. I am ashamed. I am embarrassed. So damn embarrassed.
It was so painful. I am not sure what is worse, the physical, mental or the emotional pain. I cry the entire way to the hospital. My poor husband doesn’t really know what to say or do.
I get to the doctor’s and they rush me over to get an ultrasound.
“No, nothing is there,” the ultrasound tech says to me. “I am sorry.” “You have passed everything.” I sob like a baby. I knew my baby was gone but it hurt like hell to get that verification.
Nothing. Passed everything. These words haunted me the entire day. The entire month. They still do at times. No offense against the tech, I know she was doing her job but it all sounded so technical. So rigid. So harsh. That “nothing” is my child. My second child. He/she was going to be Madilyn’s little sister or brother.
The doctor wanted to see me again so we go into her office and she confirmed AGAIN that “it’s gone.” “There is nothing you did wrong,” she says. How does she know that? Was that just her way of trying to make me feel better? She said that most likely there was a chromosomal problem and miscarrying is my body’s way of “getting rid of it because my body knows best.” She gave me a script for Vicotin. I am not much of a pain pill kinda person but I filled that damn prescription. It numbed the pain. It numbed my mind for a couple days. All I wanted to do was cry and hold Madilyn. I was numb.
I felt like such a failure. I didn’t want to talk or see anyone. I was so incredibly embarrassed. People sent beautiful flowers. I didn’t return phone calls. I texted my girlfriends the news. I couldn’t talk on the phone. I felt like such a loser.
I am a health coach for goodness sake. How could this happen to me? I exercise. I eat well. What the hell? What am I going to tell my students and clients? I panicked and cried some more.
Every day since I lost my child, I have gotten stronger. I will never forget. However, I am grateful for the experience now. I can finally see a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. Three months later, I finally have the strength to share my story today with you.
My sweet baby, I am so sorry I never got to meet you. I tried my best to take care of myself while I was helping you grow. I did the best I could. Thank you for for all that you have taught me. You have helped me see myself and my life in a whole new way. Thank you for teaching me that I am not perfect and that I don’t have to be. Thank you for bringing mommy and daddy closer. Thank you for giving me the push I needed to live in the moment and be grateful for everything I do have in my beautiful life. Thank you for helping me put my guard down and show the real me. Thank you for letting me see your big sister, Madilyn, in a whole new way. Thank you. I love you so much. I’ll see you in my dreams.
Of course, I wish I was still pregnant and expecting our second child in October. I admit that I am scared as hell to get pregnant again. What else could go wrong, I think to myself? I’ll never know but is that fear worth not taking the chance of having another amazing child? Absolutely not. I am not ready yet but I have faith that I will in the future. One day at a time. Bring it on universe. I am ready.
How have you overcome loss? What is your light at the end of the tunnel? I would love to hear your story.