Our Loss, My Miscarriage
*What you are about to read may be emotional and mildly graphic in some instances. It is not intended to disturb or offend readers but rather to share my true and honest account of one of my, of our, darkest moments. It is intended to help mend and to provide support and hope to readers that have experienced such loss. This post is long and I kindly ask that you read it in its entirety.
August 9, 2012 was the best day of our lives for 2 reasons: 1-my husband, Matt, and I celebrated 4 years of marriage and 2-we found out that we were pregnant! Oh happy day! How romantic to find out that you are expecting your first baby on your 4 year wedding anniversary. After trying for 10 months, this was the most AMAZING news of our lives.
Within moments of finding out (taking 3 different tests!), we already loved our little bean fiercly. We were already planning which guest room would become the nursery, how we would tell our families, and joking that our beautiful bundle would arrive during finals week of Matt’s graduate school in April!
Because my mother knew that we were trying and I’m pretty sure she knew exactly when I should start my period, it was ony natural that I told her immediately. The very next morning, on the phone none the less (they live in TX, we live in UT), I told her that we were pregnant. Such sweet tears of joy were shared and I could feel the hug and the sheer excitement coming from the phone from her.
In the week and a half that followed, Matt and I were………..overwhelmed with joy. There are no words that can describe what we felt. We were giddy. We were floating. We were going to be parents. I prayed every night the same prayer. I placed my hand over my belly and I asked God to keep our baby healthy and to help it grow strong everyday. I prayed to God to make sure our little bean knew that we already had such love and such devotion for him/her. I prayed to God to protect our baby and to love our baby.
It was on a Saturday that I started to bleed. Without going into the painful details, I will just share with you that I lost control. I lost all control and all that I remember is Matt holding me and rocking me back and forth for close to 6 hours on our couch. I don’t remember eating, drinking, or moving. I don’t even remember what I said to my mother when I placed that call. I don’t think I even said much, just cried.
For 6 horrid days, we thought that we had lost our baby. Because of my work, I had to travel that following Monday and couldn’t get in to see the OB until Friday. Because I continued to bleed/spot, I told my sweet husband that he did not have to leave work to go with me to the OB. I told him that I didn’t want him to relive that moment and that I would be strong enough to go by myself.
On Friday, August 24, the OB performed a vaginal ultrasound and to my absolute amazment, found a HEARTBEAT. Our little bean was 7 weeks and its little heart was beating a strong 125 bpm. What an AMAZING GOD! Immediately, I cried tears of joy and also disappointment in that this moment, this AMAZING moment, could not be shared with my husband. How can this be???? Apparently, my cervix was quite aggravated and had popped a blood vessel either from intercourse or physical exertion. I was sent home with 3 ultrasound pictures and a smile plastered on my face. The phone call put in to my husband and my family was beautiful. My husband and I cried and laughed, hugged, and stared at the sweet blueberry spec on the ultrasound!
I proudly ran the Top of Utah Half Marathon at 7 weeks pregnant feeling strong, feeling beautiful, and relishing the moment when I would tell my sweet child that it had been growing inside me while I ran 13.1 proud miles. My follow up appointment was that following Thursday (my original appointment) and Matt and I practically danced into the OB’s office.
I knew that something was wrong as soon as we saw the ultrasound. It was just a few moments later when my OB softly said,”I’m so sorry, sweetie, but I can’t find a heartbeat.”
What happened next and what we felt cannot be written in words and will forever remain deep in the depths of our memories. Based on the growth, our sweet baby had passed the same day that I heard its heartbeat for the first time. It had passed the day before I ran the Top of Utah Half Marathon.
I had my D & C the very next day. Because of my high travel job, I could not wait for the baby to pass in its own time or to induce with the heavy medication. The D & C was the best option for me.
My amazing mom flew in from TX to be with me during the procedure and to help us over Labor day weekend. I cannot, yet again, describe in words how amazing my husband and mom were/are. My sweet dad, sister, brother, grandmother, aunt, and very close friend were comforting. There are no “right words” to say when one experiences such a loss. Good hell, I didn’t even know what to THINK, what to FEEL, let alone what to SAY. Just knowing that I was loved and was in their prayers brought me comfort and reassurance.
I have never been so angry in all my life. I have never been so consumed with hate in all my life. I have not spoken to God since the day we were told that we lost our baby. I don’t know when I’ll talk to God again but for now, it will not be today.
I am angry because it seems that every pregnant woman decided to get out of the house and shop at the same Wal-Mart as I do. I am angry because it seems that every magazine cover that I see has a pregnant woman on the front.I am angry because it seems that at every airport, at every restaurant, at every damn bathroom that I went into there is some beautifully, round pregnant woman standing nearby.
I hated the sweet children that I saw go past me in the terminals. I hated the sweet children that smiled at me in flight. I hated the sweet children that coo’d and cried at every gas station, at every movie theater, at every channel that I flipped through. Why is God punishing me like this? What did they do right that I did WRONG? Why do they deserve a baby when I DONT? Why do we have to go through this? We are good people. We are happily married. We own a beautiful home. We can give a baby a loving environment, security, an education, WHY? Why were we denied this?
But then I heard so many stories of loss. My anesthesiologist and his wife had suffered a miscarriage. My post op nurse had suffered a miscarriage. The kind man I met on the airplane just days after losing our baby told me of his 4 beautiful children and after tearing up, explaining myself to him (a stranger!), he shared with me that they had suffered 2 miscarriages before having their first child. One of my dad’s employees shared his story of loss, our realtor lost her first child, and my very own sweet grandmother lost her 2nd child.
In the midst of such pain, I found a commonality with these people, some strangers. We shared such loss together and yet, such hope. With something so common, why do I feel so alone? Why does no one talk about it?
Each day is a battle. I cry everyday. I cry on the Hertz bus taking me to my rental car. I cry on the elevator going up to my hotel room. I cry each night before closing my eyes. I crywhile writing this. My sweet husband just holds me when the tears fall. He doesn’t say anything and doesn’t need to say anything. He just holds me. I tell him that I’m sorry for failing. I’m sorry that I couldn’t carry our baby.
The last mile I ran was the 13th mile at the Top of Utah Half Marathon. The last weight that I squatted and pressed was 2 days before the half marathon. My body misses this. I can feel it. All that I want to do is lace up my shoes and run. Run fore miles. Run forever. In the days following the D & C surgery, I drank wine, I drank coffee, I ate cupcakes, and even peanut butter M & M’s but I do not have an appetite. I remind myself to eat, just as I preach, each day. I have lost weight (unhealthy) because I don’t eat, I don’t find any comfort in food. I force myself to eat my eggs, eat my vegetables and eat my fish. I have, unfortunately, found an ease in drinking more coffee and more wine than normal.
I miss my long runs. I miss the weight room.
I miss being intimate with my husband.
I have my follow up appointment with my OB this Friday, exactly 2 weeks since my D & C surgery. I stopped bleeding on Friday and spotted through Monday. I am free from pain (physically) and after I receive a clean bill of health on Friday, I plan to take to the road. Ipod free, I am going to run. I am going to run and run and run and will start to heal.
Katy, from Fit in Heels, messaged me and told me that I should share my story with you all. At first I was shocked. Why? Why would I share with the world something that I hadn’t even shared with some of my family and friends? Why would I share with the world my perceived failure? Why would I share a story with such sadness when I promote a blog and page with such motivation and strive to generate so much excitement around health and exercising? Why would I share something so intimate with strangers?
I share because I know that there are so many of you out there. I share because I am hurting. I share with you now because, just like you, I am a normal person experiencing excruciating pain and looking for a way to live on. I live my life each day striving to provide motivation and share with you my favorite recipes, workouts, and my own transformation (by using as many exclamation marks as possible!). I live my life now by sharing our story, my story, in hopes that it will help you, too, in your journey.
I will come back. I will come back stronger. I will come back and fight. I will come back and continue to work hard each and every day to create a healthy environment that will foster a healthy, beautiful baby from Matt and I. I know, even now, that I did nothing wrong. I know, even now, that Matt and I have experienced love and loss and continue to grow more in love each day from this experience.
I have placed the sonogram pictures in a memory box where I’ve kept all of Matt’s love letters, cards, and pictures from the past 6 years together. I wrote a note to our baby and will keep it in my box of memories forever.
We will try again and whether we start a family from my womb or not, we will provide for and love a sweet child just as we loved our first, just as our parents have loved us, and just as I know God loves me. I may not be able to talk to God now but I will soon. I don’t know what to say and fear that my anger and disappointment will take over my words and I will not say the right things. I will in my own time.
I believe in you. I believe in your own story of love, loss, and constant improvement. I know that at one point or another, you have felt loss, you have felt pain, and you have felt alone. But I tell you now, I cry with you. I sob with you and I know that no matter what is going on in your life, you are a force to be reckoned with. You will overcome this just as I will. We are strong. We are beautiful. We are fighters.
Eat clean, pump some iron, and be a Fit Fox!