A few weeks ago, on the Friday night that I was 7 weeks pregnant exactly, I went to the bathroom and noticed a few drops of blood in the toilet. This began what can only be described as the longest weekend of my life. I, of course, did all of the research that I could and talked with my sisters and my best friend about what could be happening. My sister texted me, "well, that doesn't mean it's over, just keep an eye on it and call the doctor if you feel like you should." Good advice but by Sunday the spotting was heavier and I had very mixed and anxious feelings so I did call the on-call nurse from my OBGYN office and spoke with her. This is still at the point of pregnancy where I have not been in yet because it was so early.
The nurse reassured me that there are many reasons for bleeding in the first trimester of pregnancy, miscarriage being only one of those reasons. She told me to call first thing in the morning and make an appointment to go in for an ultrasound.
Long story short, there was no baby. There was a lining and a sack where a tiny beating heart should have been but the sac was empty. No baby. A miscarriage. Knowing in my brain that this could happen to me did not soften the blow that it was now happening. After 3 healthy pregnancies and babies, I was having a miscarriage. Oddly enough the statistics for miscarriage are 1 in every 4 pregnancies. So, I guess I am right there with the average stats. Can't say that that makes me feel very happy.
I only knew that I was pregnant for 20 days. But in those 20 days I began dreaming. Would this baby be another girl? Would my 3 girls have a little brother joining our family? Would I start feeling sick soon? What are the top names on our list for boys and girls? I couldn't wait to feel the first kicks and movements and hold that little squishy, velvety head in my arms. This would most likely be our last baby and I felt ready. This is the timing we wanted, the way we wanted and I felt so excited. I even was going to visit my family in Utah the week after I found out so I waited to be able to tell them in person. I was so looking forward to seeing their reactions and excitement in person!
Now, the week after I got back from that trip, it all just blew up. The balloon popped. I sat in that room at the doctor's office and listened to a newborn in the next room cry and cry and I just started to cry. Gone. All of the hopes and expectations and plans and wishes. I was relieved that there was no baby on the screen of the ultrasound. There never was a beating heart, but we didn't know that until then and it felt real. As real as any of the other pregnancies I have experienced. There is something so incredible about the early weeks of pregnancy when you are not showing but you know there is a little gummy bear growing inside of you. It makes you feel so special and so feminine. Like you are carrying around this sweet and incredible secret and you feel so privileged.
So, naturally, I felt rather foolish when it all ended so abruptly.
And, here is the thing. I still had a secret that I was carrying around. Only this time the secret was that I was bleeding. Heavily. Blood and clots at times feeling as though they were pouring out of me. Going through a pad more than once in an hour at times. Cramping. Worse than my normal period cramps. Lower back pain and cramps and pressure in my pelvic region. This type of secret can make you angry at the people around you. They have no idea what you are dealing with. The world just carries on.
At the same time, it can make you feel connected to other people as well. Knowing that they all can be having similar experiences in their lives that I had no clue about. Not necessarily a miscarriage, but other loss. Grief of loved ones, loss of job or income, sadness or depression, anxiety and many other hard things that make up this human experience. I felt as though if I saw someone who looked sad, I wanted to hug them. And cry with them. Isn't is funny how other people's compassion ends up making us more emotional? When my doctor came in to the room after the ultrasound, she sat down and just said, "I am so so sorry." She really meant it. This woman delivers hundreds of babies a year, sees patients through loss of all kinds and she still had compassion for me in that moment of my sadness. That was what made my husband, Matt, tear up. He was fine on the outside until she came and showed us that love. It was all just so sad. It still makes me sad.
The thing about being 34 years old and having a miscarriage whilst also having 3 children is that your life can't really just stop. I was still doing back to school shopping. I was still going to work every day. I was still making lunch and dinner and trying to get in a workout when I could because I knew it would help with the cramping. I was home alone in the evenings a lot while Matt was playing his gigs and the girls were sleeping. I would sit and cry on my couch and then watch the funniest, most light-hearted things I could think of so I wouldn't just sit and sob. I still had to be mom, wife, sister, daughter and friend. None of that just stopped. And I didn't really want it to but there were those moments where I just wanted to grieve but my 2 year old was having a meltdown or I needed to answer a question from my 8 year old or my 5 year old wanted to ask about her upcoming birthday party. Life. It goes on even when you don't want it to.
We had also told a lot of people that we were pregnant. We were so excited and we wanted to share that excitement with the people we love the most. As soon as I knew the miscarriage was happening I messaged everyone who knew about the pregnancy. I couldn't bear thinking that there were people in the world who still thought we were pregnant when we weren't anymore. So I told everyone right away. Thank goodness for the ability to just message or text everyone. I did NOT want to have that conversation 1,000 times.
People have been so so kind to us. I received flowers, cards, donuts, messages of support and love, babysitting offers and more. There are so many good people. If you sent me something and are reading this, thank you. I appreciate you so much.
Here is the thing. I have good days and bad days. I had to keep going in each week for a few weeks to get my blood drawn and have more ultrasounds to make sure that everything looked normal again and the levels of HCG (the pregnancy hormone) and progesterone dropped to where they needed to be. So I had to go back to the places that made me sad. Get poked over and over again, (I also had to get a rogam shot because I am RH- and a miscarriage counts as a 'delivery'. Ouch!) all while sitting in a lobby full of women at various stages of pregnancy. I was so happy for all of these cute mamma's with their little, (and big) baby bumps! So happy for them. It also just stung. I left the doctor's office in a very emotional state.
On top of all of this, our home life is very stressed at the moment with school starting, home renovations gone south and my husband working almost every night and spending his days working on the house. Add on to this the normal, every day worries of bills and work and providing a good environment for our kids and family and I have been very overwhelmed.
It's still hard. I know in my head that it all will be OK someday. My heart is still very tender and sore. So, I guess what I am saying is, you really never know what a person is going through. Miscarriage doesn't look like lying in bed all day and screaming in agony. It looks a lot like life on the surface. It's underneath where the pain and the loss is. I also just felt empty. I had felt so full when I thought there was a baby growing inside me. Now I just felt like an empty cavern.
If you have every experienced this. I am so sorry. I know that things will get better. They always do and I am putting my faith in the future and trying my best to make the best of the present.
Love,
Stef
The nurse reassured me that there are many reasons for bleeding in the first trimester of pregnancy, miscarriage being only one of those reasons. She told me to call first thing in the morning and make an appointment to go in for an ultrasound.
Long story short, there was no baby. There was a lining and a sack where a tiny beating heart should have been but the sac was empty. No baby. A miscarriage. Knowing in my brain that this could happen to me did not soften the blow that it was now happening. After 3 healthy pregnancies and babies, I was having a miscarriage. Oddly enough the statistics for miscarriage are 1 in every 4 pregnancies. So, I guess I am right there with the average stats. Can't say that that makes me feel very happy.
The amazing results of my 3 successful pregnancies.
I only knew that I was pregnant for 20 days. But in those 20 days I began dreaming. Would this baby be another girl? Would my 3 girls have a little brother joining our family? Would I start feeling sick soon? What are the top names on our list for boys and girls? I couldn't wait to feel the first kicks and movements and hold that little squishy, velvety head in my arms. This would most likely be our last baby and I felt ready. This is the timing we wanted, the way we wanted and I felt so excited. I even was going to visit my family in Utah the week after I found out so I waited to be able to tell them in person. I was so looking forward to seeing their reactions and excitement in person!
Now, the week after I got back from that trip, it all just blew up. The balloon popped. I sat in that room at the doctor's office and listened to a newborn in the next room cry and cry and I just started to cry. Gone. All of the hopes and expectations and plans and wishes. I was relieved that there was no baby on the screen of the ultrasound. There never was a beating heart, but we didn't know that until then and it felt real. As real as any of the other pregnancies I have experienced. There is something so incredible about the early weeks of pregnancy when you are not showing but you know there is a little gummy bear growing inside of you. It makes you feel so special and so feminine. Like you are carrying around this sweet and incredible secret and you feel so privileged.
So, naturally, I felt rather foolish when it all ended so abruptly.
And, here is the thing. I still had a secret that I was carrying around. Only this time the secret was that I was bleeding. Heavily. Blood and clots at times feeling as though they were pouring out of me. Going through a pad more than once in an hour at times. Cramping. Worse than my normal period cramps. Lower back pain and cramps and pressure in my pelvic region. This type of secret can make you angry at the people around you. They have no idea what you are dealing with. The world just carries on.
At the same time, it can make you feel connected to other people as well. Knowing that they all can be having similar experiences in their lives that I had no clue about. Not necessarily a miscarriage, but other loss. Grief of loved ones, loss of job or income, sadness or depression, anxiety and many other hard things that make up this human experience. I felt as though if I saw someone who looked sad, I wanted to hug them. And cry with them. Isn't is funny how other people's compassion ends up making us more emotional? When my doctor came in to the room after the ultrasound, she sat down and just said, "I am so so sorry." She really meant it. This woman delivers hundreds of babies a year, sees patients through loss of all kinds and she still had compassion for me in that moment of my sadness. That was what made my husband, Matt, tear up. He was fine on the outside until she came and showed us that love. It was all just so sad. It still makes me sad.
The thing about being 34 years old and having a miscarriage whilst also having 3 children is that your life can't really just stop. I was still doing back to school shopping. I was still going to work every day. I was still making lunch and dinner and trying to get in a workout when I could because I knew it would help with the cramping. I was home alone in the evenings a lot while Matt was playing his gigs and the girls were sleeping. I would sit and cry on my couch and then watch the funniest, most light-hearted things I could think of so I wouldn't just sit and sob. I still had to be mom, wife, sister, daughter and friend. None of that just stopped. And I didn't really want it to but there were those moments where I just wanted to grieve but my 2 year old was having a meltdown or I needed to answer a question from my 8 year old or my 5 year old wanted to ask about her upcoming birthday party. Life. It goes on even when you don't want it to.
This picture was taken on day 14 of me bleeding.
We had also told a lot of people that we were pregnant. We were so excited and we wanted to share that excitement with the people we love the most. As soon as I knew the miscarriage was happening I messaged everyone who knew about the pregnancy. I couldn't bear thinking that there were people in the world who still thought we were pregnant when we weren't anymore. So I told everyone right away. Thank goodness for the ability to just message or text everyone. I did NOT want to have that conversation 1,000 times.
People have been so so kind to us. I received flowers, cards, donuts, messages of support and love, babysitting offers and more. There are so many good people. If you sent me something and are reading this, thank you. I appreciate you so much.
Here is the thing. I have good days and bad days. I had to keep going in each week for a few weeks to get my blood drawn and have more ultrasounds to make sure that everything looked normal again and the levels of HCG (the pregnancy hormone) and progesterone dropped to where they needed to be. So I had to go back to the places that made me sad. Get poked over and over again, (I also had to get a rogam shot because I am RH- and a miscarriage counts as a 'delivery'. Ouch!) all while sitting in a lobby full of women at various stages of pregnancy. I was so happy for all of these cute mamma's with their little, (and big) baby bumps! So happy for them. It also just stung. I left the doctor's office in a very emotional state.
On top of all of this, our home life is very stressed at the moment with school starting, home renovations gone south and my husband working almost every night and spending his days working on the house. Add on to this the normal, every day worries of bills and work and providing a good environment for our kids and family and I have been very overwhelmed.
It's still hard. I know in my head that it all will be OK someday. My heart is still very tender and sore. So, I guess what I am saying is, you really never know what a person is going through. Miscarriage doesn't look like lying in bed all day and screaming in agony. It looks a lot like life on the surface. It's underneath where the pain and the loss is. I also just felt empty. I had felt so full when I thought there was a baby growing inside me. Now I just felt like an empty cavern.
If you have every experienced this. I am so sorry. I know that things will get better. They always do and I am putting my faith in the future and trying my best to make the best of the present.
Love,
Stef
Love you, sweet girl. Carry on, warrior.
ReplyDeleteStef, thank you so much for sharing this post... I love a lot of things about you and especially appreciate your gift of writing true, genuine, honest feelings. You have my best wishes and prayers for you and your wonderful family.
ReplyDelete