While I type this, my heart skips a beat and my stomach drops, again.
That is a hard reality some days. I am so blessed with the four I have here with me, but their existence doesn’t diminish or repair the pain from my other children’s non-existence.
I battled infertility from the get-go. I was 21 and thought for sure I would get off contraception and BAM! Become pregnant right away. The first month went by, and then the second and third. Before I knew it, a year had passed all I had to show for it was month after month of negative pregnancy tests. We decided to see a specialist in infertility about 2 ½ years in. I remember the office visit like it was yesterday. The first thing she told me? “You need to put on about 10-15 pounds, and then we can go from there.” After I accomplished that, I started a cycle of infertility pills, shots, specific timing of, well, ahem, the deed. 6 months later and thousands of dollars spent, I got my positive. It took 3 years to conceive my first. That three years felt like forever. The emotional rollercoaster gets to be exhausting but the yearning for my own child helped push me forward. I was excited at 8 weeks to find out I was having twins! Two little flutters beating away, until about 11-12 weeks. When I lost her twin, I didn’t really know how to feel? I felt like I should be sad, and in some ways felt guilty I didn’t. It wasn’t until many years later, after 2 children were successfully born, I felt a sense of grieving begin.
Realizing what was lost
It was only then I realized what I lost, what I was missing. I didn’t know what I was grieving with my first, I had nothing to compare it to and like any first-time mom, you don’t really get it until you fully experience it.
My first child was a beautiful little girl, 7lb 6 oz, 21 inches long. My life was forever changed.
My second child was a wild card. I had no intention of having another baby anytime soon. My daughter was three, things were a little rough in my marriage but lo and behold, here comes number two.
I felt like I had the flu around Christmas. My husband and I had plans to go out for New Year’s Eve. I had an odd feeling I needed to take a test. I just felt off and didn’t want to go out and celebrate the night with alcoholic drinks if I were pregnant. I grabbed a test while my husband was at work, peed on the stick, and there were the two lines. I could not believe it. I was on contraception, so there was no way! Right? I decided to go back to town (20 minutes’ drive) to buy another test.
Surprise, surprise; two lines again.
I had a stress-free pregnancy, no issues or concerns. I was thankful to not have the concerns of infertility and the challenges associated with it, I enjoyed the entire pregnancy. On August 28, 2003, I gave birth to a handsome little boy weighing 8lb 2oz, 20 in long.
Life happened, when my children were 4 and 8, my husband and I divorced. Not at all what a woman wants or dreams of when she says I do, but that is where I was.
A couple years later, after a lot of emotional healing and self-growth, I found an amazing man that I still swear was created specifically for me. I don’t deserve him or his love but work to be the best wife I can every day. I never thought after I had my first two children, I would ever have any more. I sold all my baby stuff, and just had it in my head two children was what was destined for me, and I was okay with that.
But then, I meet this amazing man with a heart so full, spilling over ready to love a child of his own.
He loved my children from my first marriage, but there is a special bond between biological vs. stepchildren. We decided after we get married, we will try for a baby. I got off contraception before the wedding keeping in mind it may be difficult for me to get pregnant, considering my history and now my age, I was 36 and considered high-risk.
First comes love, next comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage…
We ended up conceiving on our honeymoon!
A couple weeks after we returned from Breckenridge Colorado, I had an OB/GYN appointment set up to get a yearly check and make sure everything was cleared to start trying for a baby. Part of the routine was taking a urine test just to rule out pregnancy. It came back negative. The other tests went well, everything looked good, so we were ready! On the way home, I got a call from the Dr. while the urine test sat a little longer; it ended up showing positive! She had me go right to the hospital to get blood work, and a couple hours later, sure enough, we were pregnant.
WE WERE SO EXCITED!!!!!!
Everything was going great, I had some morning sickness, tired, all the typical symptoms. The ultrasounds at 8 weeks showed our little gummy bear with the twinkling flutter, and we were all in love already.
Everything was excellent, with no complications what-so-ever. I thought to myself how awesome this was to not only have zero issues getting pregnant but to have a great start to the pregnancy.
I am so sorry
Fast forward to 13/14 weeks. I had a routine checkup and told my husband it was no big deal, no need to take off work. It was the appointment that you meet with the nurse before seeing the doctor to go over what you wish your birth plan to be like, if you plan on nursing, epidural, etc. We went over all the tests I would have in the coming weeks. Bloodwork for what was needed that time was taken. I was given a goody bag of formula samples, a book on what to expect when expecting, and other little goodies like baby diapers and wipes. This was such a special appointment because it really made things feel real.
An hour later, it was time to see the Dr. for measurements, weight, and check the heartbeat.
To my surprise, Dr. said, “let’s take a peek!” I asked if I could video with my phone since my husband wasn’t there, but she said they don’t allow it. Now I know why…
She turned the lights off and got the probe ready—that awful dildo looking instrument.
I was so excited, looking intently at the screen to watch my baby, heart racing, and then…
Nothing. My baby’s little body was lying there still—no flashing light. No movement. Just a small white blur on the bottom of the black abyss.
My stomach dropped, I felt like the wind was knocked out of me. As I type this now the same feeling comes over my body again.
She excused herself to get another Dr. to come confirm what the inevitable was. I felt like I was going to throw up. Something had to be a mistake-there was no way. I felt fine, I had morning sickness, there was no bleeding or cramping? My pants were getting tight around my waist. She just didn’t see things correctly.
The other Dr came in and looked with the probe to find the same result. My baby’s life was no longer in the making, the heartbeat was gone.
I was 14 weeks pregnant, and then I wasn’t.
A piece of me died in that moment.
Dr. said it had to have happened within the last few days because the baby measured on time. All I could wonder is what I did wrong? What could I have done differently for a better result?
After a hug from my physician and hearing the words” I am so sorry,” I left the bag of baby things given to me on the floor and walked out of the clinic. Numb. Walking past other pregnant moms on the way out the door crying and dying inside. I wished so badly there would have been a side door for me to run out, to sneak away without having to come face to face with any other to-be-mommy.
I called my husband and told him. I can’t imagine what he felt like hearing those words over the phone. We lost the baby. All the while at work, not there to hold me, for us to hold each other. He never missed another appointment again. I called my mom, I called my best friend. I tried to come to grips with what my sudden reality was, knowing what I had to face when I returned home; my older children. That was the most difficult 45-minute drive home. Knowing what was to come still. I had to break the news to my two children, who were over the moon excited to meet their brother or sister. How was I going to explain to them it wasn’t going to happen anymore?
I told my daughter as we sat on her bed. I can still feel it and see her face when I told her. How she hugged me and tried to comfort me. I still see my son’s face as he walked in from peewee football practice. Excited from the practice only to crumble a few minutes later. All the joy melting off his face to leave the emptiness of sadness.
This was one of the most challenging times I had to walk through and felt completely out of control. I was out of control, if I could have controlled this Chris would be here with me, with us, right now.
I was given a choice to have a D&C or to allow things to happen naturally. I just wanted it to be done. I didn’t want to go through the pain and the visual trauma of seeing the miscarriage in action. Each woman should have the choice to decide which way she feels is best for her. This horrific day was on a Tuesday, and my D&C would be Friday. Somehow, I had to make it through the following days.
The morning of, I woke and just broke down.
Today was the day.
The day it was final.
The day my baby would be taken from me physically and be no more.
This all felt like a nightmare, a movie I was watching.
Before I was taken into the operating room, I had to sign off on a form. On that form, I had to give permission for the hospital to “dispose of the tissue.”
I lost it. This wasn’t “tissue.” This was my child. The nurse apologized for having to ask that, and for how cold the wording sounded, it was policy. I feel they need to change that…
5,4,3,2… lights out. Goodbye, sweet baby of mine.
Looking back, never once did this make me question my faith. If anything, it drew me closer- just Christ and I walking together through this. As amazing and attentive as my husband was, I felt so alone.
I didn’t want to eat, I wanted to sleep the days away. I had two other children that needed me, and I needed them, but in those days following, for quite some time, my heart was so shattered I just couldn’t be the mom I was. It took time, weeks, months, and it still has not entirely left me and probably never will. I am crying as I relive this and share it with you.
A part of you dies when this happens. You are never the same.
Some try to rush you through the process, and others try to ignore it.
“At least you have other children.”
“Good, you were only 14 weeks along“.
“You can try again.”
And many, many other words that did not help at all.
I knew I had two children, but they did not make up for the loss of my third. In the moment I heard of the positive pregnancy test, my heart had grown a compartment just for that child. Not for anyone else. I dreamt of what they would look like, what their temperament would be, imagined holding them for the first time, hearing their cry, naming them, running through the house. That baby was already a part of my family and me.
The other little ones came and left early on, but every one of them holds a place in my heart.
I share this because there are all different losses we moms can experience. I pray to God that no one has to on any level, but if you have, or if you do, I want you to know it is okay to talk.
It is okay to grieve that baby that was “only” 6 weeks along. It is okay to name that baby if you chose to. It is ok to talk about your baby and get a memorable item like a Christmas ornament. Whatever it is you need to keep walking forward and not stay stuck emotionally.
I share this all so others that have not walked this walk can hopefully learn to have more compassion for others that have.
Be cautious of your words; ask the momma what they need at that moment.
A friend to sit with them.
Quiet time?
A meal?
Prayer?
Each of us grieves differently. I promise you that you are trying to fill the awkward silence with words when you have never experienced a child’s loss will only hurt more than help.
No matter if you have a loss in your heart because of infertility, miscarriage, or the loss of a once-living child, I want you to know I see you, momma. My heart cries with you.
Each time I hear of a loss, I cry.
I cry for myself and my losses, I cry for that momma knowing what she is going to go through, I cry for those that will.
This book was given to me by a friend. It is filled with hope, encouragement, a path to walk through, and ways to feel like I am not alone in how I feel.
You are not alone in how you feel.
Miscarriage and loss must stop being a taboo thing we try to avoid talking about because those that walk through the experience feel so alone as it is; they shouldn’t feel shame on top of it.
I am blessed to end up with four amazing children: three girls and a boy. I couldn’t feel more blessed than I do because I was able to carry them full-term and healthy.
I know not all women will be able to have the same ending. So even when you think it is an innocent question, even when joking, asking a woman when she will start trying for a baby, let me encourage you to stop. Don’t ask. Just Don’t do it.
You never know what battle she has already been through, and those simple words might cut like a knife.
For those that have walked this dark and lonely path too, please know…
I see you; I am hurting with you; you are NOT alone.
I am always an ear, a hug, and a prayer away for you.
XO,
Sydney
*P.S. I have linked a couple of books. I love you still is a sweet book that will help you work through a lot of the memories, questions, and hurts from your loss. This book would be best suited for a momma that lost a child after they were born.
Grieving the child, I never knew speaks directly to my heart. This book helps validate that it is ok to have this pain and severe grief, even if you have never held your baby in your arms.
These books are through an affiliate link, which means I may receive a small amount of commission if you chose to purchase them. I have purchased both, read, and worked through them myself and give them as gifts to other women in my church that experience this type of loss.