When I created this space and community in 2014, the goal was to inspire mothers while sharing the real and raw side of motherhood. I’ve gone back and forth (and back and forth) debating whether to post this or keep it to myself. Keeping it to myself seemed easier. Sharing it would mean facing it. Accepting it. And I’m no where near ready to do that. But I realized that where I am right now, this dark and confusing place, so many of you have been. So many have suffered in silence. Feeling alone (I know I feel that way sometimes).
So here I am.
On October 1st, I found out I was pregnant with baby #4. To say that I was excited would be an understatement. After sharing with my husband who was equally as excited, I immediately snapped a photo of the positive pregnancy test and sent it to my closest friends and family! Everyone was overjoyed. Especially my daughters. My 3yo kept saying she was so excited to play with her baby and that she hoped it was a baby sister. A few days later I left on a little birthday trip to Napa with my closest friends. While my girlfriends drank the fanciest wine from the nicest vineyards in Napa Valley, I had grape juice. Sacrifices, right? When I got home and settled back into routine, we spent part of the week in the hospital with my 3yo daughter for a skin infection. While she was in the hospital, I started having cramps but ignored them and didn’t tell my husband because I was so worried about my daughter. When we left the hospital, I mentioned it to my husband. The next morning I started spotting. We didn’t think anything of it. In fact, that morning I joked to my husband that I was already starting to look pregnant! By that night, I was bleeding pretty heavily. We had friends over for dinner and I told my best friend what was going on. We thought it was just implantation bleeding, so I tried not to worry about it. By 10pm I was started to pass small blood clots so we went to the ER. They did a vaginal ultrasound, urine test, blood work and pelvic exam but said it was too early to know (only 7 weeks) and sent me home with no answers.
The next morning (10/15/17) I woke up and the cramping had gotten significantly worse. I texted my dear friend Katie and told her it felt like contractions. I still didn’t want to think about it being anything wrong (especially since the doctors had said it was too early to know) so we went out to a late lunch at Applebee’s for my MIL’s birthday. I just wanted to do something normal. During that time at the restaurant, I had to run to the bathroom every 15 minutes because I could feel blood pouring out of me. Towards the end, when everyone was standing up to leave, I ran to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet and a blood clot the size of a lemon came out. I sat there and cried. And cried and cried. I texted my husband and said “Anthony. I can’t do this.” I didn’t want to get up. To walk out. Because I knew. I had just miscarried my baby. I finally gathered the strength to walk outside to the car. As I walked out, my husband’s family was standing near our car talking. I ran past them to my car, opened the door, and sank into the front seat. I wept. My husband got into the car, saw me, and he wept, too.
The pain was immense. That was something I wasn’t prepared for. On the 45 minute drive home, we had to stop twice so I could change my pad. The cramps were so bad, it felt like there was a knife twisting inside my uterus.
I tried to relax for the rest of the night, through the pain – both physically and emotionally.
The next morning, I called my OB and she made room for me in her schedule. She scheduled an ultrasound for the next day.
Yesterday morning, we had to tell our children that the baby in my belly, their baby sibling, had gone to heaven (after three days of me avoiding any conversation from my daughters mentioning the baby). I am so grateful for my husband being there at my side through this entire shit show, but especially for this conversation. It was hard. My 4yo’s jaw dropped and she yelled “Don’t tell me that! You’re gonna make me sad.” My 3yo was quiet and looked up at me with sad eyes and said, “she’s not in your belly?” We had a long, emotional talk and they asked about Heaven and what it looked like and what the baby was doing up there.
Yesterday afternoon, after the ultrasound confirmed my miscarriage, my OB sent me to the ER again because I was still bleeding heavily and feeling dizzy. They gave me fluids and meds to help stop the cramping and bleeding.
This past week has been a living nightmare. Only worse, because when I wake up, my baby is still gone.
After what I’ve been through this past weekend, the sight of blood makes me shake and the thought of another vaginal ultrasound or ER visit sends me into a panic attack. I don’t know where or how to begin the healing process when I can’t scroll through Pinterest without seeing a pregnancy style post, open Facebook without receiving a baby shower invite or seeing a viral news article of a “mother” who murdered her twin sons, or receiving emails from What To Expect that go into detail about how your baby should have been the size of a blueberry this week. I’m going through every emotion- blaming myself, hating myself, feeling alone, confused, heartbroken, devastated, and the list goes on. I’m still processing. Trying to heal. Trying to understand why after three healthy pregnancies and babies, my body failed me and my unborn child.
If you’ve made it this far into my rambling, thank you. Thank you for letting me vent and share and helping me feel a little less alone.
To my baby,
We’ll never get to brush your hair, rock you to sleep, watch you take your first steps…I will always wonder who you would have been. Every single day that passes, my heart aches for you. I will miss you until I see you again. Until then, I will carry your heart in mine.
I love you.