Most of those who know me know that writing is my most creative outlet. It's how I cope and how I heal. It's how I allow my deepest thoughts to become someone else's inspiration. I've contemplated writing about this for a while, but never really wanted to sit down and try to navigate through the mess of emotions. But, after a few friends have asked what's been going on with me lately, I decided now was a good time to do this. It's going to be hard and it's going to be brutally honest. But, I'm ready to lay it all out there so others can not only see my heart, but maybe someone out there needs to hear it and needs to know they aren't alone in their journey. Sometimes our most personal struggles can actually be used for something good, so that's the attempt I'm going to make.
I found out I was pregnant in January...just a few short months ago. It's not something that was planned or even something I thought could happen because of past health problems. But, here I was. Sitting at a close friend's house as she encouraged me to take a test. It's a moment no woman will ever forget. Two pink lines. I kept reading the directions over and over again while my future stared back at me. I lost my breath for a few seconds and laughed it off. This test had to be dysfunctional somehow. So, I took another one. And another one. Three positives. I was immediately asked how I was feeling and I couldn't answer the question. I was in complete shock. I was in a long term relationship, so I wasn't worried so much about that, but I had a million thoughts running through my head. I'm not married. We aren't even living together. How exactly is this going to work? How are we going to afford a child? What are we going to tell our families? What are people going to think? After a restless night, those thoughts began to become a little bit less daunting. We can do this. People do it all the time. We are grown adults and we will find a way to take responsibility...no matter what it takes. Thankfully, he was incredibly supportive. I couldn't have asked for a better reaction. Thoughts quickly became plans. Nerves began to turn toward excitement. We were going to have a baby. Morning sickness and exhaustion became part of my every day routine. Soon after, we had confirmation from the doctor. Sonogram pictures and parenting books became my world. I changed my diet and soon found myself engrossed in learning what my baby's progress was each week. Fingers and toes were forming. Baby names were at the forefront of my mind. We shared the news with just a few people because we couldn't contain the excitement.
Almost as quickly as the pregnancy news came, fear began to set in. Something didn't feel quite right. I chalked it up to thinking it was just first-time pregnancy jitters. But, the next sonogram appointment came. I knew almost immediately that something was wrong. The doctor said I was as healthy as could be and everything looked normal. Except the baby. The baby hadn't grown since our last appointment. He quickly gave me worst-case scenarios. His medical babbling made no sense to me. I couldn't hear anything except the pounding of my heart. Something was wrong. We quickly asked if there was anything I could be doing differently. Nope. I was doing everything I should have been doing. So, the doctor had me come in the following week for yet another ultrasound. No change. He scheduled me to come into the radiologist the following day at the hospital because their ultrasound equipment is apparently better and can pull higher resolution pictures. I sat outside his office waiting for my car to be brought around and the tears started to fall. How could this be happening to me? What was I doing wrong? What can I do to save this life?
The following day, I had two more ultrasounds with the radiologist. Anyone who has been through this knows that the radiologist cannot tell you what they see. The images have to be sent back to your doctor for him to review before results can be presented. I had to wait a full 24 hours to get mine. It was brutal. Not knowing the fate of this precious life was absolute torture. I got the phone call on Friday morning...February 13th, to be exact. Friday the 13th. How fitting. The nurse quietly gave me the news that no change in my baby had been seen. She was sympathetic, yet professional. In her own way, she warned me to be ready for the worst and to call if I began noticing bleeding or cramping.
I lost my baby on Sunday, February 15th. I knew it was coming, so I arranged to stay at my dad's house for the weekend. He didn't even know I was pregnant until I walked into his office and had to give him the best news and the worst news I'd ever been faced with. I was pregnant with his grandchild but in the same sentence knew the baby was going to die. I had never had to open up like that to my father before. I couldn't look him in the eye and I couldn't get any words out without sobbing. He took me in his arms, prayed for me and said he would be there no matter what it took. Losing a baby is not for the faint of heart. It was excruciatingly painful; both physically and emotionally. The physical pain made me feel as if I was going to die. Those moments lasted about twelve hours. He and his girlfriend stayed up with me until 3am. Calling the hospital, giving me pain meds, making sure I had heating pads to make me comfortable. Anything they could do, they did. I will forever be indebted to them for their selfless acts of kindness. They were the only two people I would allow to see me. I said no to anyone who called to check on me. Even the father of my baby...and my own mother. I didn't want to allow them to see me like that. I have never experienced pain and tears of that magnitude and I didn't want to seem weak. I look back and realize that was the wrong decision...I should have allowed those who love me to comfort me, but I refused. I stayed at my dad's house and laid in bed for five days. I got up on occasion to eat and at times move to the couch. I slept a lot. But I also lay awake at night sobbing. I felt as if I had completely failed. I failed my baby, the baby's father and myself. I failed those who were excited about our news. I was the one person that was made to protect this life and I had somehow lost it. A piece of me died that day and a part of my heart went with that baby.
I'm usually not a depressed person, but I experienced depression (or what I felt was close) in the weeks following. I shut everyone out. I went to work and immediately went home. I cried a lot. I drank a lot. I didn't want to face anyone because I knew looking into someone's eyes would only cause a breakdown on my end. I started reading a lot of articles and doing a lot of research on miscarriage. One thing the doctor told me in a follow up appointment was, "These things just happen sometimes." That was the biggest cop out I had ever heard. I was livid that I couldn't gain any answers as to why this life was taken from me or what I could have done differently.
I went and sought counseling. I started being more open about it and sharing my thoughts with a few friends and family. The word miscarriage made me sick to my stomach, but I was beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel. In these situations, and understandably so...most people don't know what to say. "Everything happens for a reason" was the most common line I heard. And, I've come to realize that statement is true. I spent a lot of time being angry at God. How could He take a life that He created? What kind of sense does that even make? I had friends who would invite me to church and the answer was always no. "I've got nothing to say to Him" was my constant response. I knew I would begin to deal with things in my own time, and thankfully, I have. I have the most amazing and supportive friends and family on this Earth. Daily texts, phone calls and emails just to check on me started to dig me out of the hole I dug myself into. With each day, that light at the end of the tunnel began to get a little brighter.
Statistically, between 10%-20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage in the first 20 weeks. As I've started to share with people what happened, I've come to realize how many woman I know that have gone through this. Some people might not agree with me sharing it, but it's something I felt I needed to do. In my darkest days right after it happened, I felt like no one understood; as if I was alone in my pain. I don't ever want someone to feel that way. If one woman reads this and finds comfort in it, then my job is done.
I don't think the loss of my baby is something I will ever truly get over. It's an experience that is hard to put into words unless you've been there and you've felt it. I'm beginning to find comfort in that simple thing so many people have said to me. "Everything happens for a reason." It's so true. Maybe the reason was I wasn't truly ready. I read a quote not long ago that said, "And to think, when their little eyes opened, the first thing they saw was the face of Jesus." I hold onto those words daily. I'm not here to preach, but my faith in knowing there is life after death is what has kept me going. I know that my baby is in paradise singing angel lullabies...something I could have never provided. When I found out I was pregnant, I knew my job as a believer was to raise my child up to return to Him. What greater joy than knowing my baby is already there.
Some moments are easier than others. I still have times when I crumble. I hear a song and it makes me sad. I see a baby in the grocery store and it stings. I see pregnancy announcements on Facebook and my heart breaks a little bit...but then rejoices for my friends who will soon welcome a child into their world. I am genuinely happy for my friends when they receive the news of the greatest blessing they will ever know. I keep the one sonogram picture I have in the mirror above the seat in my Jeep. It reminds me I have an angel with me all the time...that's my biggest source of comfort. If I've ever doubted my faith, all I have to do is look back on this experience and know that God does exist. He doesn't give me anything I can't handle. And He does have a plan. I may not see it right now and I may not understand why some tragedies happen, but I know that better days are ahead. And I have the utmost faith that I will get to hold my precious baby one day.
To My Precious Little One...
For those few weeks, you were mine. I never got to feel the butterflies or the kicks of your tiny feet, but for those few weeks, I knew you were there. Oh, the plans I had for you. The pictures I would take. The places we would go. The million kisses I'd cover you in. The tiny clothes you'd wear. The baby smell I wouldn't be able to get enough of. The giggles and belly laughs. The late night feedings and precious moments we would have alone together. The bedtime stories and the lullabies. The tired eyes and sleepless nights. Your first steps. Your first day of Kindergarten. Your first love. Oh, sweet one...the dreams I had for you. For those few weeks, I came to know you. I came to love you. My goodness... you were fiercely loved. And not just by me, but by your Daddy, too. For those few weeks, there was no greater joy I had ever experienced. Thank you for making me a mom. Thank you for trusting me with your life. You became too precious for this world and God now has you. You are cradled in Heaven and let me tell you...there is no safer place. You are loved and protected far beyond what I could have ever given you. I carried you every second of your life...and I will love you for every second of mine.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VLuaGiu73jc
I found out I was pregnant in January...just a few short months ago. It's not something that was planned or even something I thought could happen because of past health problems. But, here I was. Sitting at a close friend's house as she encouraged me to take a test. It's a moment no woman will ever forget. Two pink lines. I kept reading the directions over and over again while my future stared back at me. I lost my breath for a few seconds and laughed it off. This test had to be dysfunctional somehow. So, I took another one. And another one. Three positives. I was immediately asked how I was feeling and I couldn't answer the question. I was in complete shock. I was in a long term relationship, so I wasn't worried so much about that, but I had a million thoughts running through my head. I'm not married. We aren't even living together. How exactly is this going to work? How are we going to afford a child? What are we going to tell our families? What are people going to think? After a restless night, those thoughts began to become a little bit less daunting. We can do this. People do it all the time. We are grown adults and we will find a way to take responsibility...no matter what it takes. Thankfully, he was incredibly supportive. I couldn't have asked for a better reaction. Thoughts quickly became plans. Nerves began to turn toward excitement. We were going to have a baby. Morning sickness and exhaustion became part of my every day routine. Soon after, we had confirmation from the doctor. Sonogram pictures and parenting books became my world. I changed my diet and soon found myself engrossed in learning what my baby's progress was each week. Fingers and toes were forming. Baby names were at the forefront of my mind. We shared the news with just a few people because we couldn't contain the excitement.
Almost as quickly as the pregnancy news came, fear began to set in. Something didn't feel quite right. I chalked it up to thinking it was just first-time pregnancy jitters. But, the next sonogram appointment came. I knew almost immediately that something was wrong. The doctor said I was as healthy as could be and everything looked normal. Except the baby. The baby hadn't grown since our last appointment. He quickly gave me worst-case scenarios. His medical babbling made no sense to me. I couldn't hear anything except the pounding of my heart. Something was wrong. We quickly asked if there was anything I could be doing differently. Nope. I was doing everything I should have been doing. So, the doctor had me come in the following week for yet another ultrasound. No change. He scheduled me to come into the radiologist the following day at the hospital because their ultrasound equipment is apparently better and can pull higher resolution pictures. I sat outside his office waiting for my car to be brought around and the tears started to fall. How could this be happening to me? What was I doing wrong? What can I do to save this life?
The following day, I had two more ultrasounds with the radiologist. Anyone who has been through this knows that the radiologist cannot tell you what they see. The images have to be sent back to your doctor for him to review before results can be presented. I had to wait a full 24 hours to get mine. It was brutal. Not knowing the fate of this precious life was absolute torture. I got the phone call on Friday morning...February 13th, to be exact. Friday the 13th. How fitting. The nurse quietly gave me the news that no change in my baby had been seen. She was sympathetic, yet professional. In her own way, she warned me to be ready for the worst and to call if I began noticing bleeding or cramping.
I lost my baby on Sunday, February 15th. I knew it was coming, so I arranged to stay at my dad's house for the weekend. He didn't even know I was pregnant until I walked into his office and had to give him the best news and the worst news I'd ever been faced with. I was pregnant with his grandchild but in the same sentence knew the baby was going to die. I had never had to open up like that to my father before. I couldn't look him in the eye and I couldn't get any words out without sobbing. He took me in his arms, prayed for me and said he would be there no matter what it took. Losing a baby is not for the faint of heart. It was excruciatingly painful; both physically and emotionally. The physical pain made me feel as if I was going to die. Those moments lasted about twelve hours. He and his girlfriend stayed up with me until 3am. Calling the hospital, giving me pain meds, making sure I had heating pads to make me comfortable. Anything they could do, they did. I will forever be indebted to them for their selfless acts of kindness. They were the only two people I would allow to see me. I said no to anyone who called to check on me. Even the father of my baby...and my own mother. I didn't want to allow them to see me like that. I have never experienced pain and tears of that magnitude and I didn't want to seem weak. I look back and realize that was the wrong decision...I should have allowed those who love me to comfort me, but I refused. I stayed at my dad's house and laid in bed for five days. I got up on occasion to eat and at times move to the couch. I slept a lot. But I also lay awake at night sobbing. I felt as if I had completely failed. I failed my baby, the baby's father and myself. I failed those who were excited about our news. I was the one person that was made to protect this life and I had somehow lost it. A piece of me died that day and a part of my heart went with that baby.
I'm usually not a depressed person, but I experienced depression (or what I felt was close) in the weeks following. I shut everyone out. I went to work and immediately went home. I cried a lot. I drank a lot. I didn't want to face anyone because I knew looking into someone's eyes would only cause a breakdown on my end. I started reading a lot of articles and doing a lot of research on miscarriage. One thing the doctor told me in a follow up appointment was, "These things just happen sometimes." That was the biggest cop out I had ever heard. I was livid that I couldn't gain any answers as to why this life was taken from me or what I could have done differently.
I went and sought counseling. I started being more open about it and sharing my thoughts with a few friends and family. The word miscarriage made me sick to my stomach, but I was beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel. In these situations, and understandably so...most people don't know what to say. "Everything happens for a reason" was the most common line I heard. And, I've come to realize that statement is true. I spent a lot of time being angry at God. How could He take a life that He created? What kind of sense does that even make? I had friends who would invite me to church and the answer was always no. "I've got nothing to say to Him" was my constant response. I knew I would begin to deal with things in my own time, and thankfully, I have. I have the most amazing and supportive friends and family on this Earth. Daily texts, phone calls and emails just to check on me started to dig me out of the hole I dug myself into. With each day, that light at the end of the tunnel began to get a little brighter.
Statistically, between 10%-20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage in the first 20 weeks. As I've started to share with people what happened, I've come to realize how many woman I know that have gone through this. Some people might not agree with me sharing it, but it's something I felt I needed to do. In my darkest days right after it happened, I felt like no one understood; as if I was alone in my pain. I don't ever want someone to feel that way. If one woman reads this and finds comfort in it, then my job is done.
I don't think the loss of my baby is something I will ever truly get over. It's an experience that is hard to put into words unless you've been there and you've felt it. I'm beginning to find comfort in that simple thing so many people have said to me. "Everything happens for a reason." It's so true. Maybe the reason was I wasn't truly ready. I read a quote not long ago that said, "And to think, when their little eyes opened, the first thing they saw was the face of Jesus." I hold onto those words daily. I'm not here to preach, but my faith in knowing there is life after death is what has kept me going. I know that my baby is in paradise singing angel lullabies...something I could have never provided. When I found out I was pregnant, I knew my job as a believer was to raise my child up to return to Him. What greater joy than knowing my baby is already there.
Some moments are easier than others. I still have times when I crumble. I hear a song and it makes me sad. I see a baby in the grocery store and it stings. I see pregnancy announcements on Facebook and my heart breaks a little bit...but then rejoices for my friends who will soon welcome a child into their world. I am genuinely happy for my friends when they receive the news of the greatest blessing they will ever know. I keep the one sonogram picture I have in the mirror above the seat in my Jeep. It reminds me I have an angel with me all the time...that's my biggest source of comfort. If I've ever doubted my faith, all I have to do is look back on this experience and know that God does exist. He doesn't give me anything I can't handle. And He does have a plan. I may not see it right now and I may not understand why some tragedies happen, but I know that better days are ahead. And I have the utmost faith that I will get to hold my precious baby one day.
To My Precious Little One...
For those few weeks, you were mine. I never got to feel the butterflies or the kicks of your tiny feet, but for those few weeks, I knew you were there. Oh, the plans I had for you. The pictures I would take. The places we would go. The million kisses I'd cover you in. The tiny clothes you'd wear. The baby smell I wouldn't be able to get enough of. The giggles and belly laughs. The late night feedings and precious moments we would have alone together. The bedtime stories and the lullabies. The tired eyes and sleepless nights. Your first steps. Your first day of Kindergarten. Your first love. Oh, sweet one...the dreams I had for you. For those few weeks, I came to know you. I came to love you. My goodness... you were fiercely loved. And not just by me, but by your Daddy, too. For those few weeks, there was no greater joy I had ever experienced. Thank you for making me a mom. Thank you for trusting me with your life. You became too precious for this world and God now has you. You are cradled in Heaven and let me tell you...there is no safer place. You are loved and protected far beyond what I could have ever given you. I carried you every second of your life...and I will love you for every second of mine.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VLuaGiu73jc