My, the difference a day (or four years) makes.
Four years ago, I found out I was pregnant. I cried for days when I found out, and they weren’t tears of joy. When the home pregnancy test said I was pregnant, my world ended. Or so I thought.
On Dec. 24, 2012, Tom and I found out we were pregnant. We were actually trying to get pregnant this time. We had been trying for six months, and it was the best Christmas present we could have asked for. I went to the doctor and confirmed the pregnancy.
“You’re five weeks and two days,” the nurse said.
I was excited. Tom was excited. Matthew, our 4-year-old, was excited.
Everything in my life was perfect.
On Dec. 29, 2012, I went to the emergency room at 2:30 a.m. because I started bleeding.
The doctor did an ultrasound, and he said my uterus “looked like it had been pregnant.”
Looked like it had been pregnant.
I was confused. “I am pregnant.”
He went on to say that either I’m too early in my pregnancy or I am having a miscarriage. Apparently, talking to a patient about having a miscarriage is the same as talking to your buddy about what you had for dinner.
Same tone. Same inflection. Same nonchalance.
I thought to myself, “Surely I’m just too early. I would know if I were having a miscarriage.”
I spent the day crying. I kept telling the universe I wanted this baby, that I was having this baby. “This whole situation is ridiculous,” I thought. “I mean, now that I want a baby, my body is rejecting it? Now that I am not on birth control and my husband and I are pushing for this miracle, the universe says no?”
On Dec. 29, 2012, at 9:00 p.m., I went back to the emergency room with severe abdominal pain and heavy bleeding.
At 11:17 p.m., they told me I miscarried.
My world was shattered. I cried so hard earlier in the day, my eyelids swelled up. Well, they aren’t getting any less swollen. I lost my baby. We lost our baby. Matthew lost his brother/sister. Matthew didn’t understand why I was crying, and what could I say to him?
This miscarriage left me feeling gutted. I felt like a failure. I couldn’t give my husband another child after six months of trying. I was beyond sad, devastated even. Not only that, I felt like I was not allowed to be this sad since I was only five weeks along.
But we had names picked out. Tom started the registry. We were shopping for strollers and a car seat. That baby was a baby—our baby—the moment we conceived it, not some arbitrary day someone else decides. It’s been more than two weeks now, and I finally feel like I can breathe.
I’m okay. I guess what they say about time and wounds is right.
Like my friend Nikki said, “now you all have a special little angel watching over you.”
That I do.
I worked with your Aunt Candace – she shared this on Facebook and figured I would share with you my world and my experiences. I have gone through 3 miscarriages between my two sons (6 weeks, 9 weeks and 7 weeks) – how you feel is real and those feelings are going to come up again and again for a while.
I will pray for you – that you and your husband can heal over time. I still think about my angel babies, and have continued to share that with my two boys. Being honest for your son is a wonderful thing – obviously, you already are since he has been incredibly empathetic and caring for you.
God bless.
I have nothing to say, you have said it all so well. *Hugs*
I have never heard this quote before, and I love it! Thanks for being so open and honest, I know that it helps you to get it all out there, and I want you to know that it helps us too.
It’s never easy going through a miscarriage (been there myself)! I immediately understood everything you felt in your blog because I felt the same way when I had mine. I know this isn’t much, but I just want you to know that it does get easier! You NEVER forget, but there will come a day when you can think back on this experience & you won’t instantly want to cry. And just know that EVERYTHING happens for a reason! If I hadn’t had my miscarriage at 8w3d then my husband & I wouldn’t have conceived our beautiful (2nd) baby girl four months later. Yes we would have had an equally beautiful baby (boy? or girl?), but it wouldn’t have been *OUR Macy that we currently have! She wouldn’t be one of the most amazing, bright little girls in my life. It took a while, but I finally accepted the fact that I wasn’t meant to have the baby I miscarried! It was God’s way of telling me that he had something even better planned for my life! I hope someday you can think of it that way too! In the meantime, just focus on your son; kids really do make the healing process easier (at least my daughter helped me).