Confessions: Loss of a Pregnancy

There is something so surreal about the loss of a pregnancy. People, well-meaning people that have not been through it cannot comprehend though they try. They may say things like, “well it’s good that you didn’t have time to get too attached” or “don’t worry you can try again.” As, if you never had the chance to become attached to the little miracle inside you. And, of course you can “try again” but it doesn’t make up for the fact that there was a little life in you that you’ll never get to know. Never meet. And, you ache at the thought that you’ll never meet them. It hurts. There’s no way around it.

I remember thinking, how surreal it was to be sitting on the doctor’s cold table as the doctor’s words “possible miscarriage” echoed in my head. I was numb. But, I kept foolishly clinging to hope. I don’t know why. If nothing progressed in the following weeks then we’d know it was real.

I remember the hollowness, emptiness that followed as the next visit only confirmed my fears.

I remember my body refusing to give up the pregnancy as if my brain just couldn’t convince my body that the baby was gone…let go. So, they had to perform a D&C in the doctor’s office.

I remember thinking, how surreal it was to watch my own tears falling in slow motion, beautiful little drops splashing onto the cold, sterile, linoleum floor of the doctor’s office after it was all done. The nurses cleaning the table. My head in my hands. Empty, hollow, broken. So many words and none of them truly describe the feelings you have after it happens.

Even if it’s only for a day, you become attached to this person, this miracle inside you. Others think that because you couldn’t see it, then the pain will subside more easily because it was never really there, right?!

The only way I can describe it is like ‘faith’ as ludicrous as that sounds. Being pregnant is like faith itself, in its full embodiment. You can’t see the spiritual deity that you have faith in but you know it’s there. You have faith, which allows you to feel it move through, in and around you. It is the same from the very moment you learn you are pregnant. You cannot see the blessing inside you but you know it’s there. You feel it through other ways, especially during the early months. And, the joy of knowing it and the hope that one day you will meet it, sustains you through the aches, and pains, and trial of pregnancy and labor.

And, to have that hope ripped away leaves a void like nothing you can describe. To lose your faith - that emptiness, confusion, anger, pain, and immense grief- is the only thing I can find akin to such a moment. For those many women who have experienced this, my heart goes out to you. For those women who never have, I pray you never do.

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This originally was written as a means to help with healing after the miscarriage of what would have been our first child. It was never meant to be made public but friends encouraged me to post it in the hope that many other women who have experienced a miscarriage or stillbirth might find solace or comfort in reading it and knowing that there are several of us out there that understand and empathize.

Quiet Time

I've always had a respect for single mothers. I couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to be alone during your pregnancy or raising your child single-handedly. But, now that Chris has left for the summer to work at Camp I have two months without him as I transition from 2nd trimester to 3rd trimester. I'm only getting a small taste of what it's like to be alone and pregnant, and it has made me appreciate those brave, strong single women even more!

I treasure the quiet time I have, feeling the baby grow and wiggle and kick but I do wish Chris were here more often to enjoy her development as well. This is his baby too and he misses not being here to be a part of this. Not to mention the fact that there are SO many things that I have difficulty doing or just plain shouldn't do because of pregnancy. So, I have to be patient and wait till he can come back and take care to them for me. Or, I have to rely on friends to help me. I've never felt so helpless before. At least I have the dog to keep me company. He's taken over very well as my protector and takes his job VERY seriously! ;) almost TOO seriously. He won't leave my side for a minute, tries to nudge my belly with his nose (I think he believes I have a tapeworm in me or something) and he barks and growls at anything that comes remotely close to the house (squirrel, bird, an ant...you name it). But, don't take this as self-pity or complaining. I'm thankful for all the friends I have to help me out and this little trial has only helped me realize even more how many wonderful people are in my life. I know that Chris will be home soon and at least able to be a part of the end of our pregnancy and, more importantly, present at the birth of our first child. I'm just glad that the part of the pregnancy he had to miss is the one with the least amount anxiety attached to it. You have to find a silver lining in every cloud.

12 Weeks and going strong

For those of you who may not know, Chris and I had found out we were pregnant back in November of 2008.  Our excitement was short-lived as we lost the baby at 7 weeks. We were devastated and the months following that event were emotionally trying to say the least. So, when this past February I discovered I was pregnant again we were overjoyed. Our excitement this time around has been tempered due to the previous loss.  So, we waited to tell our extended family till we were at least 9 weeks and had seen two ultrasounds.  The joy of hearing our baby's heartbeat was indescribable - like music to a mother's ears. Chris grinned from ear-to-ear and I began to cry from both relief and happiness. 

At 12 weeks, our obstetrician could hear the heartbeat even stronger at 160 beats/min. With complete dead-pan humor, he added, "hmm. 160 beats. Congratulations, it's a girl." To which, both Chris and I gaped and asked, "Really?" He just smiled and chuckled, "No, it's just an old wives' tale. I just like doing that." Well, I guess we'll see if there's any truth to that.