Miscarriage Sucks - But it Doesn't Mean You Failed
Updated: Apr 15, 2022
[“God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength but with your testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it” (1 Corinthians 10:13).]’
Here's a personal story for you.
It's one that has broken me & built me to where I am and who I am becoming.
2020 was a difficult year, but 2021 had been the toughest for me yet.
Many have questioned and often asked when we would try for a second child.
We simply told them, ‘When we are ready’.
When we were ready, we did not say a word to anyone. We were going to let it be a surprise.
End of May 2021 - was when we first found out we were pregnant & we were beyond excited!
A few days followed and our excitement had been shattered.
A false positive? An early miscarriage? [It was too early to tell.]
We kept it a secret and simply told ourselves, we would try again.
Mid-July, our excitement started all over again! But we were wary and cautious. Appointments were made & I hid myself from family and friends over my birthday, over the course of a few weeks. I didn’t know how to ‘hide’ it when everyone always makes a statement about not drinking when out and about [a question or statement I will never again ask another individual who is trying to conceive – it’s their business – don’t ask, let it be]. It’s just too early to tell people you’re ‘pregnant’ at 5 weeks.
Mid-August – the day was here to see how our sweet, little babe was doing. We were finally going to be able to tell our family and friends the exciting news we had been waiting to share! I had bought Hayden an adorable ‘OLDEST’ sibling t-shirt. I bought new clothes for our announcement session I had all planned out. I got all dolled-up and ready for our ultrasound I was eagerly awaiting.
Once we arrived and began the ultrasound, our technician was quiet. The only statement I remember is, ‘I am not finding what you are wanting me to see.’ My heart broke. I simply stared at the ceiling as I held Jason’s hand. She was able to find the embryo (she printed us the only picture she was able to find). I had a glimmer of hope!! Until we were informed there was no heartbeat and it was not measuring where it was supposed to be. She had asked me if I had my dates right. Well, if you know me - I record and keep track of everything - I knew I was right. We were told to come back in two weeks – to see if there was any change.
TWO additional weeks of not knowing. Were we pregnant? Had I miscarried?
I couldn’t be happy, nor could I be sad. I literally went insane. EMOTIONALLY, MENTALLY & PHYSICALLY. I couldn't concentrate at work. I barely could function. I hardly slept - I was the definition of an emotional wreck.
We returned two weeks later for a pelvic ultrasound - an embryo could no longer be located. It was as if he/she wanted us to see them that one time & we are forever grateful for that glimpse. We were confirmed to have had a true miscarriage.
That lone word truly sucks to hear and to say.
You never think it will happen to you - and then it does.
We asked soooo many questions. Even when they tell you, ‘It’s not your fault – you did nothing wrong – it’s all genetics this early’, it still feels like it’s my fault. I felt like my body couldn’t have another baby, that my body was failing me and my partner. I was even more upset and angry about why my body had not yet let go. I was '12 weeks’. Why would my body want to hang onto something that was no longer there for so long?
End of August/Beginning of September - I began the process of medications to help the miscarriage along. Had I known how long and painful, both physically and emotionally, this option would be, I would have chosen a D&C. The experience was crushing and surreal. The pain and sadness I had to experience was heartbreaking. It was one of the hardest experiences I've ever had to go through.
I wish the doctor I had seen after the second ultrasound - the finding of our miscarriage - had been more honest about what to expect during the medication process. I was told that Cytotec would help move the miscarriage along and out of my body - to begin the healing. I was told that these tiny pills would bring a regular 6-week period. I was told 'I wasn't that far a long' and the bleeding would be light - nothing crazy. I was told I could receive a few doses of Vicodin to help with the pain - why would I need Vicodin for a 'regular' period is what I asked myself - so I simply said, 'No thanks.'
Well, I wish I would have & everything I was told about those tiny pills was a lie. I pretty much felt like I was aborting my already deceased baby. I was kicking it out of me - and it felt wrong - inhumane. I know every woman's body is different - but what I had gone through, seen and felt is an experience I would never want even my worst enemy to go through.
I waited until the weekend was over, so we could enjoy our last summer camping trip. The Doctor said I would want to be at home for it, where I can be comfortable and near a bathroom. I had a hard time placing those pills up there (Yep - I didn't get to swallow them down with water. I literally had to place them up there, lay down and wait.) It took a little less than three hours before it all began. Mild cramping, followed by painful contractions. Even a shower or a bath did not help. Once my body began to shed, the pain and amount of blood was surreal. I was hemorrhaging at home for about 8 hours. I was changing my diaper pad every 30 minutes - the amount of blood was insane. I had blood clots the size of softballs dropping out of me - I had to 'push' a few of these out. I had not yet been able to go to sleep and rest - I was exhausted - physically and emotionally. When I would call the hospital to ensure this was 'normal', they just told me 'Yes'. Again - totally lied to about this. I was not happy.
I took multiple days off from work.
Through this whole deal, I was gone more often then I was there.
Luckily - I had a very supportive team at my work.
October - had come and went and my body was STILL healing and going through the miscarriage process. Every day was a constant reminder of what had happened. There seemed to be no end to the ‘natural healing’ in sight even with the help of medications.
November - We weren’t receiving answers from the hospital so I demanded to be seen. Additional ultrasounds, doctor appointments, medications and ‘time’. Nothing seemed to be working. I met with a new OBGYN Doctor, who actually seemed to care about me as an individual.
I was given another round of similar medications to Cytotec [Norgestimate-Ethinyl Estradiol] - this medication was supposed to clear the last of any remaining tissue within my uterus. I was hesitant to do it because of the last time, but a D&C was not recommended with the little amount of tissue left - they did not want to cause any further damage to my uterus. The funny thing was, when I took this last medication, I was supposed to get a 'period'. Guess what? Not a damn thing happened. Not even a drop of blood. Frustrating, right?
Two weeks later, my HCG levels finally dropped below what measures one as ‘pregnant’.
I had done over 12 weeks of weekly blood draws, 4 pelvic ultrasounds, multiple medications - on top of bleeding and spotting for over 3 months.
I asked to be put on birth control medications to help regulate my cycle.
We did three months of BC - and it took four months to have a 'regular' cycle.
You know what else really hurt ? When Hayden would ask, 'Mommy, is your tummy better yet? '
What hurts me more each day, is that we never once told her she was going to be a 'big sister'.
We will try again - and I hate that term - it's like a quote - 'If at first you don't succeed, try again, and again.' I didn't fail. It wasn't my fault & it won't be better the next time.
But we will try, and pray.
It's now March 2022 & actually, March 12, 2022 would be out due date with our angel baby.
It's pretty crazy to think about that.
The pain - physically, mentally & emotionally -  months of it.
What sucks more about it - was thinking that I had deleted the Apps on my phone to keep track of the baby's size and such. Well, I was told 'Congrats! Your baby is now the size of a head of lettuce! Only a few weeks to go!' Receiving and reading that sure was a slap in the face.
In the Past Nine Months:
I have kept myself busy – to try and avoid thinking about it.
I have spoken to a very select few friends and family.
I designed and received a tattoo in remembrance.
I have continued to build a successful, growing small business in photography.
I have faked smiles and laughter even when I am sad and hurt.
I have missed work because ‘I just couldn’t’.
I’ve wanted to lay in bed all day and just sleep away the days.
I have been ridiculed and accused by others in ways I have a hard time forgiving.
I have learned the monsters out there aren’t the ones beneath the bed.
I have had to play ‘God’ and make the decision to put a dear family fur-member to rest – to put my emotions to the side and do what was best for him and not have him struggle anymore even though I couldn’t bear him no longer being a part of mine or Hayden’s life.
I have cried, been angry & muttered words about seeing others posting or talking about their newly-found-out pregnancies & the joy they possess [not because I am selfish and don’t want them to be, but because I am still hurting, I am jealous and wish it was me possessing this joy & love].
I have ‘carried on’ in my own way because these days we aren’t ‘allowed’ to grieve for more than a day [so it seems]. We are expected to ‘move on’ and that ‘it shouldn’t be a big deal’ anymore. You are only checked on for a day or two after an incident occurs – then you forgotten about or expected to ‘forget about it’. You are expected to be ‘just fine’ – MOVE ON.
I cannot be more thankful for my husband, daughter, my mama, and my dearest and closest friends, as well as my co-works at the trucking company. All have been so good to me - caring, humble & loving.
Friends & Family have told me ‘God only gives you what you can handle’.
At the end of October, I wasn’t sure how much more I could handle, but God apparently thinks I’m a bad-ass because he sure has thrown be a lot at me in a matter of months [he’s built me up to a better person].
So why did I decide to tell everyone a story I promised to myself and my husband that we would keep quiet? Well, I honestly believe that it will not only help me heal and find some closure with what has been happening, but to also help others who have gone through a miscarriage or a hard time – to know they are not alone – that they can talk to others & not fight their battles alone [like I did].
Though I still have good days & bad days - days when I am still heartbroken and down - I look at myself and see the strong woman I am and I smile.
Then I look at my daughter, and I hope & pray that she will be the woman I have shown her to be.
Don’t give up. Don’t quit. Be willing to continue to get back up when you get knocked down, dust off and keep going.
Be the better person in all aspects – even if you’re fueling with flames on the inside.
Be all that you can be and do not let any other person change you.
Kill with kindness.
Be the lion - not the sheep.
My Heart Still Hurts
I believe the more I share, the more I process, the more I learn, the better I understand the struggles that so many are facing from infertility to the loss of a child, from adoption woes to broken relationships. There’s this piece in my heart that is missing and instead of trying to fill it with things of this world, I want to share it. The more I share, the more I realize I am not alone in this pain, in this loss. I am now 1 in 5 and you might be too. Whether you, yourself have been through miscarriage or you know someone who has, I pray that you can just stand by them, grieve with them, and celebrate the life they provided a home for while on this earth -even if it was for a short bit of time.
[ The Devil whispered in my ear, ‘You’re not strong enough to withstand the storm’. Today I whispered in the Devil’s ear, ‘I am the storm’.]