Part 1 of 2
I wasn’t prepared for this.
Yes, this could happen to me. But, I never thought this would happen to me.
Be warned - these blog posts will feature inserts from random 90 sitcom stars and kinda graphic info on pregnancy and miscarriages. It will be lengthy but well, that’s the only way I know how to write. One of my best friends recently wrote about miscarriage (of which she has had 3) and she wrote “The more people who speak about miscarriage and loss- the more people who understand it.” So that’s the purpose of my writing: a release for me and for more people to understand it. Because truthfully, before September 6th, I didn’t fully get it.
A month in and I’m still raw. broken. hurting. wounded.
I’m just going to be honest. I never thought I would miscarry my third child. Troy and I first got pregnant in January of 2014. That was the first month we ever tried and we were fortunate to get pregnant immediately. We were blessed with the world’s easiest baby, Judah, so we wanted another one right away. Eight months later, we got pregnant again with our daughter, Alexa. Troy could just look my way and we would get pregnant when we wanted. (Is that how babies are born? I’m not sure yet.)
Alexa was a difficult baby. She was tough; everything was hard with her. Breastfeeding was crazy hard (hello, mastitis!). Her colic seemed like it would never end. She was night and day from Judah. Now, she’s 2 1/2 years old and the most easy going, sweetest child ever (especially if she has chocolate in hand).
I had a really hard time recovering from Alexa’s birth. Postpartum anxiety hit me hard and I got diagnosed with hypothyroidism (pregnancy can trigger it). That’s another story in itself but we didn’t start trying again for two years. Before that, we could snap our fingers and I would be pregnant but for some reason this time, it took awhile. I have no idea why it didn’t happen as quickly as before.
But finally after six months of trying (I know many couples try for a lot longer), we got pregnant! I could not even believe it. I found out before church on a Sunday morning. Troy is up at like 3am on Sundays so I never see him before service starts at 10am. I was elated. We had a meeting at 9:15am, service at 10am and another lunch meeting at 12pm. It wasn’t until 2pm when I told him. He was overjoyed and couldn’t believe it.
Of course, I took 3 more tests for a total of 4 by 3 different brands and they all turned up positive. We were SO excited and honestly, just relieved. My parents live 1000 miles away in PA and were coming in less than two weeks to celebrate Judah’s fourth birthday with us. I have never told them in person when I got pregnant so I cannot even tell you how pumped we were to tell them in person. We ordered “big bro” and “big sis” shirts right after I dusted off my box of old maternity clothes.
I made an appointment at a new OBGYN that’s closer to our house since we moved a year ago. I had an appointment for an ultrasound at the end of the month. It didn’t feel real.
On Thursday, September 6th, I took my kids to preschool then went to work as usual. I picked the kids up and drove home. Everything felt fine. Everything was fine. I went to the bathroom and found it. Blood. More blood. I started shaking and breathing heavy, on the verge of a panic attack. I pleaded with God, “No, God! Please, no!” I put on a pad in case of more blood. I called Troy immediately. I cried, “I started bleeding. It could be nothing. But, I’m bleeding.” and he immediately ran home. As soon as I told him, I kid you not, the flood gates opened outside and it started pouring buckets (hurricane leftovers). He was soaked when he got home.
We tried to convince ourselves that this wasn’t happening and there could be a million reasons for this. He stayed home from work the rest of the day and I sat quietly on our couch, too fearful to move, just in case. Like somehow sitting still would save my baby.
But I was in pain with cramps that felt like contractions and blood kept coming. I didn’t want to take any medicine to ease the cramp pain in case everything was ok.
I waited until the morning to call the OBGYN. I told the receptionist that I was terrified I was miscarrying. I held it together as I choked out the word “miscarriage.” She immediately transferred me to a nurse’s line. No one answered and I was forced to leave a “detailed message.” I lost it on the voicemail. I tried to pull it together but my voice cracked and my personal flood gates opened. I felt so bad for the person who was going to hear this message.
What felt like days were only hours when the nurse called back. The nurse said that it was mostly likely that I miscarried. She said I had a few options. I could wait a week and take a pregnancy test and if it was negative and I was done bleeding then that would confirm my miscarriage. Or I could come in right away to do some blood work then go in a few days later and give some more blood. They would compare the levels and see if my hormone levels went down to confirm the miscarriage. I took a shower and went to their office immediately.
Seeing so many pregnant ladies in the waiting room made my heart break. That.Was.Supposed.To.Be.Me.
I was constantly bleeding. I was screaming internally. My heart was breaking.
After several days, the blood work confirmed my biggest fear - a miscarriage.
Although, we had only known we were pregnant for less than a week, we had planned out our lives with this little baby. We were so pumped to have Alexa become a big sister and for Judah to continue on his big brother role.
I thought miscarrying would be a once and done event. Like, I thought you bled for an hour and then it was over. I didn’t think I would continually bleed and cramp for nine days.
How am I supposed to move on? How do I carry on with life? To the outside, no-one knows what happened. I feel like I’m a walking wound. Sadness is overwhelming. Grief is my closest friend. Brokenness shoots in waves over my body. There’s a pit in my stomach. A lump in my throat.
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