I learned I was pregnant when I was only half expecting it. We had been talking about having a baby but it never seemed like the right time. Then I turned 40 and we knew we'd better get a little more serious about it. Still, we approached the whole thing very casually.
But then, on December 22, 2010, I saw those two lines on the test. The day was surreal. In shock, we were thrilled, and we couldn't take it all in. It was the ultimate Christmas gift and we enjoyed every moment of it. We shared the news with the innocence of a couple who forgot that not every pregnancy has a happy ending.
I'm a planner and I like things organized. The kitchen needed to be renovated so we got on that immediately. Within a few weeks the room was gutted. Everything was on track so that we'd have a nice new space in plenty of time for the new family member's arrivals.
We started to playfully argue about names and each of us felt we knew what the sex of the child would be. We didn't agree. A sonogram at 6 weeks revealed a beautiful beating heart. Our doctor assured us that the chance of miscarriage was reduced to less than 5% now that the heartbeat had been detected.
I took my vitamins, read up on the food I shouldn't be eating, and forced myself to eat more vegetables. Plans for a nursery were underway and I started to purchase maternity clothes from a few online sites.
Then I started to spot. Everyone came to screeching halt for a moment. Panic, confusion, and fear quickly became the dominate emotions. I could barely remember how to operate my cell phone when I tried to call my doctor. They asked me to return for a sonogram the next morning. I think they knew it was over but they tried to sound optimistic on the phone.
My husband refused to believe that it was bad news. He had no plans to go to the sonogram with me and told me I was worrying for nothing. Deep inside, I knew. I pushed him to come with me and finally sent him a text message that he received as he was driving to work: "If I have to hear bad news alone, I will have a very difficult time forgiving you." He turned around and came home.
The sonogram tech was somber and noticeably different than the last time we'd seen her. She knew. A few minutes later she said, "I'm sorry, there's no cardiac activity." Our baby had died.
It's been months and yet I am still crying as I type this. My baby was due to arrive into my arms just two days from now. We have tried, in vain, to get pregnant again and I'd hoped that it would soften the arrival of what should have been my baby's birthday. I doubt it would have made much difference. I'll never know.
I question a lot of things. Why did this happen? Why did I get pregnant in the first place? Was there a point to any of this? Right now, I am remembering the time when I was pregnant and we were so happy. It was just for a moment, but it was an important moment. I only had that brief time with my baby and I was not yet blessed to see my child's face, not yet.
My faith tells me that the time on this earth is like a blink of an eye. Our baby brought us joy. The loss brought us pain. However, we WILL see our baby one day and that pain will be long forgotten. Therefore, it's joy that will endure.
Surviving Miscarriage
You had a miscarriage? I won't be arrogant enough to suggest that I completely understand what you are feeling right now. Each miscarriage is completely unique and comes wrapped in a varied set of emotions and extenuating circumstance. For many there is grief, guilt, anger, emptiness, confusion, blame, longing...am I close?
Each day-- even each hour-- can feel completely different. I often feel like a ship with a broken sail being tossed to and fro, unable to navigate and vulnerable to wind shifts that often came out of nowhere. I still have shaky days and it's been over 6 months. Is this going to end soon?
God, are you listening?
I am only midway through this journey but I have come up with a small list of suggestions. These are some words I wish I had found when I first lost my baby. I hope it helps someone else.
Be gentle with yourself. Don't push yourself to get over it or stifle your tears. There is no time limit on grief. You are allowed to feel this for as long as you need to. Don't feel pressured by the people around you who just want to see you smile again.
It's OK to say NO. Soon after my loss, I was invited to a party to meet a new baby. I declined. I made the right choice. I also declined a few baby shower invitations and sent a gift instead. No need to explain, just do what's best for you.
People say dumb things- forgive them. By now, you have already heard some of the replies, "This was God's plan." --"Maybe the baby was going to be handicapped." --"You'll have other children."...People don't know what to say so they say stupid things. Keep in mind that they are trying to be supportive. Ignore the words and focus on the emotion they are trying to convey-- comfort. They are doing their best.
No one means to hurt you. Right after I lost my baby, I learned that someone else in our family was pregnant. She is due right around the same time I would have had my baby. It was handled badly and I learned the news in a manner that really hurt me. It was not intentional. Just like the previous suggestion, remember that people do their best and no one means to hurt you.
You will hear other loss stories. Women will share their stories with you. Often, they will cry and you will see the pain in their eyes, even if the loss was many years before. I think that there was a time when miscarriage was not openly discussed and some women need to talk about it now. They are not looking for you to comfort them. Instead, they are emotionally taking a seat next to you and grieving with you. It's a precious thing when you realize it for what it is. My mother-in-law shared her miscarriage story with me and clearly, she had never talked much about it before. She shared the damaged place of her heart and I will always treasure those conversations.
Some people don't want to talk about it. You will quickly learn that some are uncomfortable with the topic or want to pretend it didn't happen. There are times when you will appreciate them because sometimes it's easier to pretend it never happened. At other times, cling to your friends that will listen. Thankfully, usually we have both types in our life.
People will ask you personal questions. For some reason, hearing the news that you had a miscarriage erases boundaries for some people. Suddenly you are being asked about things that no one has ever asked before. "Are you going to get pregnant again right away?" You don't have to answer anything unless you want to. Just shrug and change the subject. Eventually, they stop.
Just when you think it's better, another wave hits you. I was walking into church yesterday and an old friend came to say hello. I referenced our baby and, without warning, burst into tears. Whoa- where did that come from? It happens.
Just feel what you feel with no apologies. Your emotions will be all over the place for a while. That's OK. Just go with it and accept that pain is part of this journey.
This is not a complete list but it's what I have concluded so far. I am sure that there are many more suggestions but this is what I would l have liked to hear 6 months ago. Be patient with yourself, forgive the people around you, and I wish you a full healing, both physically and emotionally.
Each day-- even each hour-- can feel completely different. I often feel like a ship with a broken sail being tossed to and fro, unable to navigate and vulnerable to wind shifts that often came out of nowhere. I still have shaky days and it's been over 6 months. Is this going to end soon?
God, are you listening?
I am only midway through this journey but I have come up with a small list of suggestions. These are some words I wish I had found when I first lost my baby. I hope it helps someone else.
Be gentle with yourself. Don't push yourself to get over it or stifle your tears. There is no time limit on grief. You are allowed to feel this for as long as you need to. Don't feel pressured by the people around you who just want to see you smile again.
It's OK to say NO. Soon after my loss, I was invited to a party to meet a new baby. I declined. I made the right choice. I also declined a few baby shower invitations and sent a gift instead. No need to explain, just do what's best for you.
People say dumb things- forgive them. By now, you have already heard some of the replies, "This was God's plan." --"Maybe the baby was going to be handicapped." --"You'll have other children."...People don't know what to say so they say stupid things. Keep in mind that they are trying to be supportive. Ignore the words and focus on the emotion they are trying to convey-- comfort. They are doing their best.
No one means to hurt you. Right after I lost my baby, I learned that someone else in our family was pregnant. She is due right around the same time I would have had my baby. It was handled badly and I learned the news in a manner that really hurt me. It was not intentional. Just like the previous suggestion, remember that people do their best and no one means to hurt you.
You will hear other loss stories. Women will share their stories with you. Often, they will cry and you will see the pain in their eyes, even if the loss was many years before. I think that there was a time when miscarriage was not openly discussed and some women need to talk about it now. They are not looking for you to comfort them. Instead, they are emotionally taking a seat next to you and grieving with you. It's a precious thing when you realize it for what it is. My mother-in-law shared her miscarriage story with me and clearly, she had never talked much about it before. She shared the damaged place of her heart and I will always treasure those conversations.
Some people don't want to talk about it. You will quickly learn that some are uncomfortable with the topic or want to pretend it didn't happen. There are times when you will appreciate them because sometimes it's easier to pretend it never happened. At other times, cling to your friends that will listen. Thankfully, usually we have both types in our life.
People will ask you personal questions. For some reason, hearing the news that you had a miscarriage erases boundaries for some people. Suddenly you are being asked about things that no one has ever asked before. "Are you going to get pregnant again right away?" You don't have to answer anything unless you want to. Just shrug and change the subject. Eventually, they stop.
Just when you think it's better, another wave hits you. I was walking into church yesterday and an old friend came to say hello. I referenced our baby and, without warning, burst into tears. Whoa- where did that come from? It happens.
Just feel what you feel with no apologies. Your emotions will be all over the place for a while. That's OK. Just go with it and accept that pain is part of this journey.
This is not a complete list but it's what I have concluded so far. I am sure that there are many more suggestions but this is what I would l have liked to hear 6 months ago. Be patient with yourself, forgive the people around you, and I wish you a full healing, both physically and emotionally.
Miscarriage...
Miscarriage. It's not a great topic and most of us like to skip past it when it comes up. I always did. I remember when a friend told me she had lost her second pregnancy, I actually thought "What is wrong with her?" but of course, I offered the standard-- So sorry-- and changed the topic. That's what we do. Right?
Until the day that you are the one hearing the news. When the sonogram technician tells you--"I'm sorry. I don't see any cardiac activity." Suddenly, that baby you were just getting excited about, that nursery that you were planning, the names you were bickering with your spouse about...it's all gone. The dream is over and the nightmare begins. Why didn't anyone tell me it would hurt this bad. Wait...maybe my friend would have told me if I hadn't so rudely changed the topic.
Then I became the one that had to tell people that we lost our baby. I was now on the receiving end of the topic changes and blank stares. What is wrong with these people? But wait-- I used to be one of them. Back when I was on the far side of miscarriage. The naive place were all pregnancies end in healthy babies. Way back then.
I like to learn something from everything that happens in my life. What was the lesson here? I don't know, I am still learning. Rather than be upset with the reactions, I try to relate to their innocence. I try to remember being in their place. I also called my girlfriend and brought up her miscarriages. I told her how sorry I was that I had not offered her support when she needed it. I cried. She cried. Yeah, this crap hurts.
While surfing the net I found a bunch of articles telling people what they should say/do when someone they know has a miscarriage. I couldn't find one to tell me what to do when I am the one facing the loss of my baby. As soon as I figure it out, I will write that article. For now, my only advice is to be gentle with yourself and with the people around you. Don't let responses bother you- even the ones that say "This must have been God's plan"-- they don't realize how stupid they are. They mean well. Go easy on them and focus on you. Part two of this post will be coming when my heart is in a better place to be reflective.
Until the day that you are the one hearing the news. When the sonogram technician tells you--"I'm sorry. I don't see any cardiac activity." Suddenly, that baby you were just getting excited about, that nursery that you were planning, the names you were bickering with your spouse about...it's all gone. The dream is over and the nightmare begins. Why didn't anyone tell me it would hurt this bad. Wait...maybe my friend would have told me if I hadn't so rudely changed the topic.
Then I became the one that had to tell people that we lost our baby. I was now on the receiving end of the topic changes and blank stares. What is wrong with these people? But wait-- I used to be one of them. Back when I was on the far side of miscarriage. The naive place were all pregnancies end in healthy babies. Way back then.
I like to learn something from everything that happens in my life. What was the lesson here? I don't know, I am still learning. Rather than be upset with the reactions, I try to relate to their innocence. I try to remember being in their place. I also called my girlfriend and brought up her miscarriages. I told her how sorry I was that I had not offered her support when she needed it. I cried. She cried. Yeah, this crap hurts.
While surfing the net I found a bunch of articles telling people what they should say/do when someone they know has a miscarriage. I couldn't find one to tell me what to do when I am the one facing the loss of my baby. As soon as I figure it out, I will write that article. For now, my only advice is to be gentle with yourself and with the people around you. Don't let responses bother you- even the ones that say "This must have been God's plan"-- they don't realize how stupid they are. They mean well. Go easy on them and focus on you. Part two of this post will be coming when my heart is in a better place to be reflective.
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