My Miscarriage Story

Warning: This is a sensitive topic on miscarriage and loss, and I’m sharing my real and raw feelings, I am not holding back on the pain and devastation I am in. I am writing this while I am currently still processing what has happened. This is my therapy, its unapologetic, nothing is held back. I am not okay.

I’ve always been known as the strong one, the one who can persevere, the one who could find light in darkness and happiness in a world full of pain. I’ve been through so much, yet I’ve always been able to stay positive. How I’m feeling is uncharted territory for me, I feel so unlike my self. I feel weak, I feel disconnected from myself. My friend told me last night that I am not weak, I went through a very traumatic event and I’m still here standing. Maybe in time I will feel strong again, but right now I’m just trying to feel something other than sadness.

It’s so strange, I went from being pregnant, to not. I found out I was pregnant early about 3.5 weeks, I actually started having symptoms at 3 weeks. From the moment those two lines appeared I became a mother. All in all I had an easy pregnancy, morning sickness all day, food aversions (eggs, carbs, and alcohol), extreme exhaustion and beyond super sore boobs. Every moment of it I was so grateful and couldn’t be happier to be feeling so shitty. Pregnancy is funny like that, I’ve never been so happy to puke, or absolutely crave and detest eggs at the same moment. I was happy, because I knew my baby was growing and that was all that mattered to me. I always expected to have a horrible pregnancy, I like to prepare for the worst, so I expected the nausea, weight gain super early and I was here for it. Bring on the tiger stripes and 50lb+ weight gain. I didn’t care. As long as I was bringing a healthy child into the world I would do anything. We had two great ultrasounds where we saw our baby, 5 weeks and 7 weeks. At 7 weeks we saw the heartbeat and we all cried, it was beautiful. A week later you were gone. I’ll never understand why you had to leave us so soon, but we love you and would love for you to come back when you are ready. Sweet baby bean, you are so loved and we miss you dearly.

It’s been hard to really talk about this at all, let alone with people who have never experienced this. They are trying to understand and rationalize my pain. No one will ever understand how I feel, not even my husband, as we are not the same person. Instead of trying to rationalize and understand someones feelings, just accept their feelings. People are trying really hard to keep me positive and looking forward to the future, but you see I’m not there yet, and it hurts me to know people are just trying to push me past the pain, and just move on. I’m taking every day one day at a time, every emotion one day at a time. I’m still living in this hell. Because the one thing I’ve been wanting for so long, and almost had in my arms was taken from me, two weeks before Christmas which is supposed to be such a happy, merry time. But for us this year, it is a time of sadness and a feeling of emptiness. “All I wanted for Christmas was you” I didn’t just loose my child, I lost my first son. The moment I saw those two pink lines I felt a blue energy over me, I knew it was a boy. I was completely open to having a boy or a girl, but I knew in my soul that our first baby was a boy.

On Wednesday December 11 at 4:18pm our worst fear came true, Our baby no longer had a heartbeat. Only days prior we saw our baby’s sweet heartbeat, and we were so sure we were going to be able to hold you in our arms in July. On Tuesday afternoon I thought I saw some brown discharge, it happened once and I never saw it again, but it was on the back of my mind all day. Before I went to bed that night I saw some brown discharge, I told Matt and knew I would be calling my doctor in the morning. But of course that did not stop me from googling brown/pink discharge/spotting during pregnancy at 8 weeks at 3am. I woke up on Wednesday morning with a pit in my stomach, I knew something was wrong. I called our doctor’s office first thing and let her know what was going on, her reaction was not what I was expecting at all, she said was thrilled and said it was completely normal. This calmed Matt and he was choosing to stay positive, I was not convinced. While having some discharge and spotting can be normal during pregnancy, I knew that wasn’t the case for me. I went about my day, but something still felt wrong, I still had all the same pregnancy symptoms I’ve been experiencing, craving eggs bites yet being disgusted by them. Nausea all day, sore sore boobs, and a nose that can smell every gross thing in the world. I came home after work and rested for a bit, and when I used the restroom I noticed more discharge than I had been experiencing, While Matt stayed positive, I called our doctor again, they had me come right in for an ultrasound. Honestly I was hoping to go in and my doctor tell me I would need to be on bed rest for a bit. I was never expecting to no longer see my babies heartbeat. I am very thankful we have the doctor we have, he has the best bedside manner. I can’t imagine how hard it was for him to have to tell us that our dreams were gone, and to have to go over our options. At this time we couldn’t handle listening to the options of how our baby would be leaving my body, I wasn’t prepared for this, my birth plan was set for July, not December. My I promised my baby my only goal was to get them out safely. So we went home so I could process our options.

We left our doctors office, I don’t remember much about the drive home. I do remember tears streaming my face as I removed my “mama” necklace, and coming home and picking up all our babies things and putting them in his closet. I couldn’t bare to see the shoes we got for the gender reveal, or the onesie that I was so sure he was going to be in. I’m still having trouble going into that room. Since we bought the house I knew it was going to be a nursery and knew where all the furniture would be placed. That once bright and sunny room just brings me to tears.

Being told you are having a miscarriage brings about so many emotions. The word itself is something I’ve been struggling with, I did not miss place my child, nor did I carry them wrong, my baby died. I did not cause this, nor could I have prevented this. But that does not make the pain any less, I have been struggling when it comes to talking about my pain because it makes people uncomfortable when I say my baby died, instead of we lost the pregnancy, or I had a miscarriage. But that is what happened, I didn’t loose my pregnancy, my baby died, he went from having a strong heartbeat only days prior to stop growing and his little heart stopped. My baby is dead inside my body. I feel like a walking, breathing coffin. This is why it is hard for me to talk to people, My baby isn’t gone, my baby is dead inside me. And My body still thinks I’m pregnant, my pregnancy symptoms are still present. My mind knows my baby is no longer growing, but my body is still trying to be a good home. This is what people don’t want to hear, but they keep saying I’m here if you want to talk.

We went home that night and cried, and continued to cry. A lot of people reached out to check on me, as if Matt wasn’t affected or involved. It wasn’t just me that lost our baby, my husband lost his baby as well. He wanted this baby as much as I did, he was as connected to our baby as I was. He cried when I told him he was going to be a human father, he cried happy tears when he saw his baby’s first heartbeat. He kissed my stomach every night, he got so excited seeing all the little baby things. We lost all our babies firsts, our first skin to skin, our first kiss, the first time they walked and talked. We lost our future that day. We lost the baby that was half me and half Matt. Grieving is not a one size fits all, nor is it the same every day. Matt and I grieve differently, we’ve given each other space when needed and held each other when we needed it. He is ready to look forward to 2020 and ready to start again, I am not. But I know I will need him to be ready and help me become ready someday. I couldn’t be more thankful that he had quit his job right before we found out we were expecting. He has been to every appointment with me, he has been allowed this time to grieve without being stressed about missing work.

I was given three options to let nature take its course, eventually my body would know that it is no longer pregnant and have a natural miscarriage. I could use medication to speed up the process and have a miscarriage at home. Or I could have surgery and have my baby removed from my body. Matt said he supported whatever decision I felt was best. After my ultrasound I had started bleeding, not heavy but just a light period for me. On Thursday I had cramps, the first period cramps I’ve experienced in years, I did as I’ve always done for cramps, I used a heating pad with castor oil and when I felt a little better I exercised. My doctor approved me to workout throughout my pregnancy and through my miscarriage if it felt right for me. Exercise has been my saving grace, my one accomplishment of the day, and to be honest the only reason I’ve been able to force myself to eat. I reached out on instagram for women who’ve been through this and what route they went through. I know all three are emotionally devastating, and knowing that my body still thinks I’m pregnant the natural route could take awhile and I didn’t know if emotionally I could handle weeks of knowing my womb was now a coffin. Also I didn’t know if I could put Matt through the blood shed that would happen in our home. The medication route was removed as an option, I don’t tend to respond to medications normally, and after hearing from many people that they were on their 16th pill and it still wasn’t working I knew that was not right for my body. Surgery felt like it was the right choice for me emotionally, and after everything I knew I needed to protect what was left of my heart because my body would heal. Just like I don’t respond to medications normally, I over process anesthesia and have woken up during surgery before, I also don’t respond to pain medications, yes even morphine is like a sugar pill to me. After speaking to many people who told me the recovery is painless, it is like nothing happened. I knew surgery was the best option for me, I couldn’t handle the feeling of being my baby’s coffin, as much as I wanted to protect my baby as long as possible, I knew that it was our time for goodbye. I chose to wait until Tuesday so my doctor could perform the surgery.

The surgery itself was physically painless, it really was like nothing had happened when I woke up. I did not take any pain meds after, my doctor did a block in my back to help since I don’t respond to any pain meds. I was not in any pain just some spotting after. I did have a urinary catheter so yes there was some discomfort when I peed, but that went away fast. My ND has me on two supplements to help me emotionally and physically after the surgery. Emotionally the day was hell, having to repeat time after time that I was there for a D&C because my baby had died killed me. The nurses were very sweet, they brought us a keepsake, a bereavement pamphlet with lots of information, and phone numbers to call. They hugged and held me as I cried. We chose not to bring the remains home, but they allowed me to see my baby after surgery. Seeing the blood and tissues that once meant my baby was growing helped me say goodbye. My eyes are still swollen from crying, and rubbing my eyelash extensions off. If you ever saw the Sex and the City movie scene of Carrie after Big left her at the wedding, that is how I look. Last night I looked in the mirror while brushing my teeth and I didn’t recognize myself, my once glowing skin was ashy and sunken in, My eyes that were once bright with excitement were swollen and sad. I looked like I aged ten years in one week.

People speak of rainbow babies, the rainbow after the storm. My baby wasn’t the storm, the sudden loss and aftermath was the storm. The trying to function, they trying to have a will to live is the storm. Loosing the one you love is never easy, and never being able to create memories with them leaves you with a lot of what if. What would my baby’s personality be like, would they be spunky and sassy like me? Would like love the outdoors like Matt? Would they of said Mom or dad first? So many what ifs.

Right now I’m not ready to think of our rainbow baby, I’m still processing that my baby will not be in my arms in July. For some people they need to focus on the future, that is how they cope. Some people are ready to start trying again ASAP. My doctor is advising us to not to try until after my cycle comes back in 5-6 weeks, and to try again when we are emotionally ready. To be honest, I am terrified of starting over again, our fertility journey was not easy, and took years to get us to this point. I hope the next time I see those two pink lines I feel the same way I felt this time. Completely consumed with happiness, I don’t want a pit in my stomach thinking of all the bad things that can happen. I want to be in the moment without reservations.

We chose to share our pregnancy news publicly and before it is “socially” acceptable. We chose to share our joy to spread hope to those still waiting for that BFP, not to make them sad, but to give them hope. We knew there was a chance that we would experience a loss. But holding this in would be against who Matt and I are as people. We wear our hearts on our sleeves, we are open books. Although we were hoping out story wouldn’t have this tragic ending, we also chose to share publicly the loss of our child. Miscarriage is a statistic, 1 in 4 pregnancies end in loss. This number is not healing, it doesn’t make me feel better, it makes me feel worse that so many people go through this hell. Until I publicly shared this I had no idea the amount of people that have suffered this, many told me that they’ve never told anyone about it, outside their immediate families. They told me how brave I am for sharing, how many people I am touching. For me, part of my journey of healing is to talk about it. I don’t hold back my tears, and I don’t hold back my words. If by me sharing my pain helps one woman feel less alone than being vulnerable is worth it. I may avoid going into a public setting so I don’t have to share this pain with people who have no idea what is going on, but I won’t hold back any tears when they come. There is no right way to grieve, if you are going through this hell, please know I am here by your side, holding your hand. We may not see the end yet, but you are not alone.

I am allowing myself to grieve as long as I need, to feel every emotion. Because we when are ready to try again, and when we do get that positive pregnancy test again, I want to be over joyed, I don’t want the fear of having another miscarriage take away from this miracle that has blessed us. I know that Matt and I are meant to be parents, and our sweet baby boy is watching over us, and preparing us to one day welcome his siblings into this world. As you see Love brought our baby into our womb, and love is the light that will bring us through this darkness.

How I’m coping:

Like I said exercise is my one big accomplishment a day, it makes me feel human. I cry during most of my workout, but the sweat reminds me how strong I still am.

I cry, a lot, most of the day. I cry that my child is gone, and there is nothing I can do about it. I cry knowing how many people are going through this, I cry knowing how many people are wishing for a baby this holiday season and how many of us will not have this. I find myself still putting my hand on my belly and talking to our bean. It feels weird that just like that, I am no longer pregnant.

Naming our baby, Naming our son is helping keep his memory, that he wasn’t just a collection of cells with a heartbeat. He was a part of our family, he made me a mama, he made Matt a father, even if it was brief, he changed our lives, and we love him so much. I will not be sharing his name publicly at this time.

Getting out of the house, although I don’t really want to be in public it is good for me to leave the couch. I’ll put my headphones in and take Bentley to the lake, he knows the route by heart so I don’t have to really think about anything. Also Matt and I will just drive around and being out and about reminds me that life is still happening.

Roscoe, having him has made me get out of bed each morning. Bentley would be quite content to just stay in bed every day. He is still a puppy so we still need to work on training with him, and now that he is fully vaccinated we need to socialize him. He is going to be a big dog and we want him to be well behaved. He has the sweetest personality and is such a love bug.

Having people continue to check on us, Even though I barely have much more to say than “thank you” its been nice having people check on us. We don’t have family out here in Arizona, so having people continue to check on us makes us feel like we have family here.

Watching people continue living, yes I know this sounds strange, But I need to see people going about their days as my world is crumbling. It lets me know that one day I’ll be able to think of the future.

Reading books: Spirit Babies, Matt and I are not religious but we are spiritual and this book has helped us become more at peace that our baby bean was just not ready for this world.

The Baby Loss Guide, Saying Goodbye, Beyond Goodbye. I have the first as an audible and listen as I walk Bentley. I walk with tears streaming down my face, but I know I need to get out of the house and feel the sunshine. Getting momentos: This is personal, I chose to get his initial on a necklace, and a bracelet so I can forever hold him close to my heart. Some people chose an ornament they can hang at the holidays. Do what makes your heart happy. Here are some ideas: Heartbeat ring. footprint necklace. Ultrasound Frame. Sorry for your loss necklace and more Miscarriage Gifts

Putting all the baby things away. We didn’t buy a lot of things but we did buy some, and I had bought some maternity things since they were on super sale thanks to Black Friday. And even still as things are still being shipped I cry as I pack them away.

As my hormones continue to fluctuate I am focusing on finding a balance. I’ll continue to eat healthy and working out. Walking the dogs, and trying to find things to make me smile again. Right now I’m taking the time to heal my body, emotionally and physically.

How to help someone who is going through this: There are no actual words or gifts that can make this better.

Reach out to them, tell them you love them, tell them you are keeping them in your thoughts, keep that line of communication open. And keep saying it, if you are not physically near them a text a day literally keeps us breathing. Know that they may not have much to say, and probably won’t open up to the chaos they are experiencing in their heads because they are fearful that what they will say will hurt you. If you are physically near them, bringing a meal, a blanket, or flowers lets us know that you are here for us. We don’t expect you to spend hours with us, you reaching out lets us know that we are not alone. That you see us during our darkest time. Please avoid saying “At least you know you can get pregnant” Honestly this was the least helpful thing I’ve received, hearing that took away how much I wanted THIS baby, and that THIS baby wasn’t real to you. My baby was real, I saw my sweet love grow from a tiny bean to a bean with a heartbeat. I lost my baby, I can’t replace THIS baby, it was also reminding me that my baby was dead inside me. Also avoid saying “At least it happened earlier on” as if I wasn’t already completely in love with my baby, The moment I saw two pink lines on that stick I was in love, I couldn’t wait for my baby to grow and leave stretch marks on my stomach. While I know people are trying to help and fix my pain, this is a situation that can’t be fixed, no one can. For some people seeing people who are pregnant, or seeing babies are a trigger. I’m still numb, but seeing healthy pregnancies does not bring me sadness, it gives me hope that miracles can still happen. And I am thankful there are so many healthy pregnancies thriving.

What hurts is people who have been in my life for years barely contact me. That my pain is something they can’t handle, and that hurts. It hurts Matt as well knowing that people we barely know continue to reach out and people who have been in our lives for over 10 years can barely manage a “thinking of you text”. It is true, you know who your real friends are in a time of tragedy and there will be quite a few people I will be leaving behind in 2019.

Thank you for reading this, like I said I am still processing all of this and most of this is word vomit that I’ve been writing down in and out of emotions. There are affiliate links in this post, if you click and/or purchase from them I do receive a small commission.

I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, although you are no longer living, my baby you’ll be.