It’s taken me several weeks to harness my emotions enough to write this. It’s also taken me several weeks to actually write it. I know it’s important – for both myself and others out there like me – but it’s hard to put into words all that has happened, especially since tears and computer keyboards don’t exactly mix…
I was SO confident. Obviously too much so… But why wouldn’t I be? This was my third pregnancy. Everything felt exactly how it had before (and when I say that, I mean when I was pregnant with my firstborn, a boy; I swore this was a boy). I had already heard the heartbeat twice – on 2 separate ultrasounds – and all of my blood work had come back normal.
This appointment was to learn the gender of my baby. I thought I was going in for “the gender blood test”, and knew that it took a week or so for the results, but was pleasantly surprised to hear that they may be doing an ultrasound [if the nurse couldn’t hear the heartbeat on the Doppler]. I told her that I found out the genders with both my other kids on my 12-week appointment, so maybe she could “pretend” not to be able to find it so the Dr. would have to do an ultrasound.
The nurse half-heartedly searched for the heartbeat and “couldn’t find it” – wink, wink – and said the Dr. would have to do the ultrasound. I was literally on Cloud-9. I even texted my husband and one of my best friends to tell them!
As the Dr. walked in I could hardly contain my excitement. Then it all changed. I literally went from a major high to the biggest low in the matter of seconds. Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to hear.
As the Dr. scanned over my belly, it seemed somewhat hard to find the baby – it wasn’t right there… I thought the baby would have been bigger? “It seems that the heartbeat has stopped beating,” the Doctor muffled.
She continued to move the tool atop my belly. “It also seems that the baby has stopped growing.” My heart immediately dropped and my airways closed. I was SOO confused. I didn’t know what else to say besides, “Do you mean the baby didn’t make it?” Time immediately stopped. Shocked and stunned is an understatement.
“Yes, I am so sorry.” She immediately turned off the ultrasound machine and wiped the gel off of my belly.
But it was too late. The ultrasound image was permanently burned into my mind; onto my heart. Why did I have to see that? Why did it have to happen this way?? God I wish I never saw that!
That is the image – the moment – that I literally can’t seem to get out of my mind. It’s like I was given a permanent picture, a tattoo on my brain, of the worst moment of my life…
I literally wanted to pinch myself. Was I dreaming? I had to be! There’s NO way this could be real! I can’t have a miscarriage! I’ve already heard the heartbeat twice and everything was fine! Everyone already knows I’m pregnant! What am I going to say?? How do I tell them??
It’s easy [from the outside] to look at it rationally and say that everything happens for a reason. I rather this than a whole host of other things – to lose my baby at the end of my pregnancy, to have a chronically sick child… but that doesn’t make it any easier. I am human after all. After these thoughts my emotions inevitably set in and once again, my heart sinks, my throat closes up, and I begin to get teary-eyed. Why me? Why now? Is it something I did? Could I have prevented this?
Again, I know – or at least I think I do… that there was a chromosomal issue with this child. This was God’s way of “saving” this baby. Of saving me and my family from even more grief and heartache later… But in all honesty, I will NEVER know for sure. There were no tests, no analysis, nothing on paper. Fortunately I have had two healthy pregnancies and children, meaning that this was most likely just a fluke. A lesson. A learning experience. A way to grow emotionally stronger, more loving, caring, appreciative. To be a resource for others.
But it’s still hard. Thankfully, now that I’m 4 weeks out, I am physically pretty much back to normal – whatever that means. {At least I thought so until 2 days ago… but I will get into the physical aspect of things in a different post.} Emotionally, I am doing pretty well too. Much better than I thought I’d ever do, at least.
In the past, whenever I heard about others going through a miscarriage, I truthfully didn’t know how they could go on. How they could hold back their constant stream of tears and go about their day-to-day. How could life ever be the same? Would it be?
Now I know. This has definitely been a learning experience for me. First of all, I now, more than ever, know that I cannot control everything. I am a perfectionist and in some ways, a control freak. Why do you think I try to take such good care of my health and my body?! I want to do all I can to prevent sickness, disease, etc. and eating nutritionally and exercising is in my hands – something I can control!
In the same way, it’s also made me even more aware of the fact that everything happens for a reason. I’ve always been a big believer in that and know that things always turn out for the best – even if we have to go through sh*% to get there! Yet this situation has made me understand it all the more. I think about how much harder it would have been 2 months down the line… 3 or 4 months. At the hospital on the due date! Or what if my baby was permanently sick? I feel like this is sooo much better than any of that. That would have been harder for everyone around me…
For the most part, this whole experience has really just been hard on me. And to protect my family from that devastation and heartbreak actually helps to give me some peace about it. Not to say that my husband wasn’t upset and my 4-year old wasn’t momentarily devastated (my 2-year old is too young to really understand). But, as most men do, my husband just tries to block it out and pretend it never happened, and kids move past things pretty quickly. (See HOW I TOLD MY KIDS below for ideas on what to tell your children in case something like this happens to you or someone you know; and for a little more on Kaston’s reaction).
This situation has also made me more open and willing to talk about my feelings. If you know me well, you know I can be a rock when it comes to my emotions. I will say, that after having Kaston, my first born, I have become more sensitive and emotionally aware – thank you pregnancy hormones! – but even still, to get me to cry in public, or even in front of my spouse, was pretty much impossible. Not that I’m crying in front of everyone these days – I still try to hold it in as much as humanely possible – but I’m not totally opposed to it. Haha.
For some reason, it’s always the first time I see someone or have to tell them that makes me tear up. I guess it’s almost like the admittance of failure. That I couldn’t do this… I know that’s not what this is – that this had nothing to do with me and my “abilities” – but those are the feelings that get conjured up each time I have a “first encounter” and have to explain what happened. That, and the fact that me saying “miscarriage” out loud means it is real. It wasn’t just a horrible nightmare that I’m going to wake up any moment from…
Finally, I think this situation has made me think more about my “intuition” and feelings about what’s going to happen. I’ve always been very in tune with both my body and my mind. Ok, not ALWAYS, but ever since I started to really take care of my body through eating and exercise I feel like I know what my body is doing and how its reacting to certain situations…
With that said, I think one of the hardest parts about all of this is I literally had NO idea that this was going to happen! I felt completely fine, in a pregnant kind of a way. I had the usual symptoms. All of my previous blood tests and ultrasounds were normal. I even started to get a baby bump… There were no red flags, nothing that made me question or suspicious of what was going on. In fact, this is the first pregnancy that I wasn’t worried about something bad happening. I’ve been here two times before and everything went fine, so why wouldn’t it be fine now?!
And THAT is what has bothered me so much! Why didn’t I know? Was there a sign I was missing? Was I just that oblivious? I mean, I do have two young kids that take up most of my time, so maybe I did miss something?
Wait, was there something?? I didn’t put two and two together until just a couple of days ago. I had even mentioned it to my Doctor the day of this appointment; before she had done that final ultrasound.
At least a dozen times throughout this pregnancy I would all of a sudden feel like someone was choking me. Like I couldn’t breathe. It would literally come out of nowhere. Often, it would happen when I was asleep, or just about to fall asleep. I would start gasping for air and have to sit up. And then, after a few moments it seemed like it had never happened. My breathing would slow, my heart rate would decline back to normal, and everything was fine. Was this God trying to prepare for what was destined to happen? That I was going to be “choked” with agony, but that in the end, everything would be OK?
My Doctor wasn’t worried about it. She said that maybe it was because my blood volume had risen, as it does with all pregnancies, and that my body was just trying to adjust. Although it didn’t happen with my other two… She was going to do some tests to see if I was deficient in some vitamins that may be causing this, although we obviously didn’t get that far.
Again, everything happens for a reason, and whatever that reason may be, I’m ready to take it head on. Whether it be for my own emotional growth or for the benefit of sharing my story with others… I’m here. I’m open. I just pray that this helps open others hearts and minds to what a miscarriage is all about and how hard it can be, both physically and emotionally.
[If you want to know more about The Physical Side of a Miscarriage then stay tuned to my future post – because that’s not something everyone wants to know! Warning, there will be way TMI!]
I want to make one last point: please, if someone you know goes through this, be there for them. Whether they have children already or not, are 6 weeks or 40, this process can be extremely lonely and can be really, really hard. I know people don’t want to be intrusive and think by telling you that “they are there if you need them”, that it’s enough.
Well I’m here to tell you that it’s not. We need to know that you still acknowledge the fact that we are going through a very tough time – even if it has been 2 months after the fact. Even a “How are you feeling?” will suffice. If we don’t want to talk about it, we will tell you. But just the fact that we know that you are thinking about us, that you care and we are not alone, makes a whole world of difference!
Otherwise, we feel like people are trying to ignore the obvious. They think if they ignore the situation, if they don’t bring it up, that it will get better. That we will get better. Whether they think it’s “taboo” or it’s just an uncomfortable topic – which it most definitely is – they rather not bring it up at all. And I get it! I was the same way! But that’s why I’m telling you this. I’ve been on both sides of it so now I know what it feels like, and that we need to feel that support!
Every phone call, every text, every hug. It helps!
HOW I TOLD MY KIDS:
Ok, so now for all of you who’ve asked how I told my kids; if I told my kids.
Yes, I did tell them. When I went to my Doctor’s appointment my mother-in-law came over to watch my kids. So, when I came home, she was here with them. I walked in the house bawling. How could I not? I was devastated! My daughter was sitting in her high chair and immediately started whaling at the site of my tears.
I told my MIL that the baby didn’t make it. She was shocked. She just kept saying, “NO! NO!” My son started getting teary-eyed as well, although I don’t think he knew why.
I took his hands and walked him over to the couch. Sitting down, while I held both of his precious little palms in mine, I looked sadly into his eyes and told him that, “the baby didn’t make it. He [we called it a “he” because my son thought it was a boy ;)]; he was sick and had to go to Baby Heaven so he would feel better. I’m sooo sorry.”
Ugh. Just reliving that moment brings tears to my eyes. It was the worst!
My son bawled, and holding him close, so did I. It was really hard to watch him so hurt, so devastated. This was his first experience with loss, with death. He will never be able to play with the brother that he dreamed of having. He will never be able to teach him how to kick a ball or to ride a bike. The brother he was supposed to run around with and grow old next to, will never be… At least not yet. Not now. Not this one.
This breaks my heart. And I know that me telling him that he will never be able to meet this brother, broke his.
Ever since this moment, Kaston has talked about Heaven, a lot. About how is brother is there. I told him that his brother is up there looking down on him; watching him. He sees him with Kenzley and what a good big brother he is to her, and someday, he will be able to meet him in Heaven and they will be the best of friends (although this day will be in the very, very far future!).
Death is a difficult concept for us as adults to understand, I can only imagine what a child must be thinking. However, I think that me being honest with Kaston and open about everything has helped him cope and to get over it. Four weeks out, he still mentions his brother sometimes and how he is in Heaven, but not nearly as frequently.
I just pray that in the not too distant future he will have a brother that he can play with, because he deserves it! I really want to give him that!
I did talk to Kenzley about it too, by the way, telling her exactly what I told Kaston. At 2, she’s not really old enough to understand, although I think that it was important for me to talk to her about it, even if it was mainly just for myself.
The next couple days after this happened, Kenzley was not herself. It was her 2nd Birthday Party the very next morning (great timing, huh?!), and all she did was hang on me and whine, not wanting anything to do with the trampoline park that she absolutely adores!
I can’t say if it was her knowing what had happened, if she was upset because I was, or if she had some sort of virus or cold, but either way, she was extra, extra cuddly and sweet that horrible weekend. Even though it was hard having her hang all over me when I had to run to the bathroom every 5 minutes, I needed those extra hugs and kisses. To feel that extra love from my “baby”. I whole-heartedly believe that God knows what we need, and he gives it.
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If you’ve gone through a miscarriage yourself, or want to know more about the physical aspects of it, then stay tuned for my upcoming post. However, I will warn you that this is not for the faint of heart and there is definitely TMI for your average read. So for that, I am sorry. I do think it’s important that people know all that it entails though – at least in my case, since every circumstance is different. This will help you know what to expect yourself, or know what your friends may be going through, if you/they unfortunately have to ever deal with this horrible situation.
Xoxo,
Jessica
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