I would like to note that I wrote entries to this post as they were happening, almost as of this was my diary. I chose to document this entire experience mainly for me & then it turned into wanting to document this for other women who may be in my same position. Writing down my thoughts and feelings through this has been very therapeutic. My situation felt very lonely in the fact that I have never heard of this process being this way. I was very naïve to the reality of what *could* actually take place while going through a miscarriage. I hope that by sharing my experience and my heart that it in turn helps someone else who may be going through a similar experience. Please know you are not alone, and this wasn’t your fault.
After almost 2 years of trying, multiple doctor visits, a million prayers, and an HSG procedure (which may have been the most painful experience I’ve been through-until as of late), on January 23, 2021 Cody & I found out we were expecting our first child. 5 positive pregnancy tests, a blood test with flying colors, and lots and lots of happy tears. The days that followed were the happiest of our lives. We felt love we never knew possible. For each other, and for our baby that we have prayed for continuously for months and months. Our dreams were finally coming true. We spent the next couple weeks telling our family and friends, recording their reactions along with ours to one day out it together as a video to keep forever. While I know sharing the news so early is considered “taboo”, the people closest to us knew our struggle and we couldn’t wait to share how happy we were.
On February 22, 2021 the day before I turned 9 weeks pregnant, we found out via our first ultrasound that our baby had stopped growing at 6 weeks, 3 days, and produced no heart beat. On the day we had anticipated for so long to be our most joyous day yet, the day we finally get to see our baby for the first time, turned out to be the worst day of our lives. We both sat there in silence and shock while our doctor explained what this meant, how common this was, and assured us that we did nothing wrong.
For days we sat at home wondering “what if” or “why us”. We ran out of tears. To the point of almost being numb. We waited and waited. Each passing hour feeling like eternity. When will “it” happen? When will it be real and final? The waiting was complete torture. I sat there and prayed over my belly continuously. Telling my baby “I’m so sorry”. How bad we wanted to be his or her parents. All while thanking God for allowing me to carry this child, even if it was for such a short time. I never loved anyone so much. I never knew I could.
On March 6, after a second ultrasound confirming what we already knew, and discussing with our doctor, we started the process to “officially” miscarry the baby. My body was holding on while my baby’s soul had already gone to Heaven. We of course held hope that at our appointment the first ultrasound would have been wrong, or maybe our dates were off. I couldn’t just give up all together. I spent hours searching online for “misdiagnosed miscarriages”. Trying to give myself a glimmer of hope that maybe my case was part of the 1%.
The decision to medically take over was a very hard one for me. I waited 2 weeks for my body to do this on its own, and was told that if we chose to wait for it to happen naturally it could be up to another 4 weeks, if not longer, and obviously the longer waited the higher risk of infection. I made the decision for my body to try and “speed this up”. I selfishly couldn’t take it any longer. I wanted this nightmare over. I wanted my body to start healing and I wanted to try and move on.
I am being so transparent because I feel like these things aren’t talked about. I never have heard of a “missed miscarriage” before. I assumed a miscarriage was like you see in the movies. I had no idea that your body could actually stop the fetus from growing, but not officially “pass” it until weeks later. My experience was nothing like the movies. I lived in fear and anticipation for two weeks wondering every day “will it happen now?” While I’m at work, the grocery store, in a meeting? My mind was always somewhere else. I couldn’t “move on” until it happened. I couldn’t wait for how ever many more weeks living on edge. I made the decision to take the medication that would induce the miscarriage for me and me alone. It was not an easy one. I actually didn’t even decide until that moment at the doctors office when asked what I would like my next steps to be.
On March 9, the day I would have turned 11 weeks I officially started my miscarriage. The previous dosage of medication didn’t work. To make this part short, it was a lot. Mentally and physically exhausting, draining and just traumatizing. I spent the next day laying around the house resting. Keeping close to my heating pad as the cramping was still lingering around. Trying to come to terms with the fact that the journey of this pregnancy was actually over. I had lost my first child. It was a whole new grieving process. I had been dealing with the thought of losing my baby and the anticipation of what that day would be like. That was grief in itself. Then the physical loss was a whole other thing.
March 11, I had an ultrasound to see if everything had passed or if there was remaining “bits” as my doctor called it. There was. I wanted so bad for this to be over. This had been the longest week of my entire life. I had never felt more defeated than I did at that appointment. I was prescribed another round of medicine, in hopes that this would be the trick. My doctor & I agreed on this route as there wasn’t too much left & we wanted to try and finish this off instead of waiting until I could be scheduled for a D&C. She wanted me to take the medication ASAP while my body still had the previous doses in my system.
This round was hard. I was so exhausted and so drained and just honestly angry. I had so much hope for good news that morning. I started the third round that night around 9pm. (The pharmacy didn’t have it ready until 8pm) It wasn’t long before the pain set in. Luckily, this time my doctor prescribed some meds for the pain too. Thank God. While I was still in an abundance of pain, the thought of what it would be without the help makes me nauseous. Second and final dose was at 3am. It was horrible. I could feel everything. From my cervix dilating to contractions. I didn’t sleep the entire night, I finally was able to close my eyes around 6:30am, waking up around 10:30am starving. I felt like I hadn’t eaten in days. My body was drained. Over the next few days I spotted and continued to wear pads. Hoping and praying everything was out this time. I had a scheduled ultrasound the next Monday, March 15 to either tell us if this was finally over or if I needed a D&C to finalize everything.
I remember feeling God this night. I remember his hand on my shoulder and telling me “it is almost over, you will get through this”. I remember it so vividly. When I would take breaks from sitting over the toilet I would walk around the house (very slowly) signing “Waymaker” over and over again. Holding on to the peace of that song knowing He is a Miracle Worker, Promise Keeper, Light in the darkness. I felt that. I felt His Peace.
Side note: I chose to take the medication vs the D&C initially as I wanted to avoid surgery if at all possible. I had no idea it would take 3 rounds of medication, as ideally it should only take one. We chose to continue the medication in hopes that my body just needed an extra “push” to have the miscarriage. My experience is not a “normal” one & I am only sharing my personal experience throughout this process
Monday, March 15. Our appointment was at 3:30. We left the hospital at 7:30. It was a long, exhausting day. Long story short, our ultrasound did not go well. We had to wait after to see a doctor, ours was on vacation. We were told that there may be some kind of growth or blockage that is preventing everything from passing fully. There was also concern that I either had “placenta increta” or “anterio vascular malformation”. I didn’t know what any of this meant. The doctor said the words “we are going try to avoid having to remove the uterus”. I blacked out. What?! What is even happening? I went in to see if I needed a D&C and left with more concerns than ever.
The doctor ordered an emergency MRI that would determine what we were dealing with. Now more than ever I was so thankful Cody was with me. Everything the doctor said was a blur. I had him repeat it to me over and over so I could really process what just happened. He asked all the questions. I just sat there and stared at the wall. I had the MRI the next morning (March 16-my mother’s birthday). My appointment was at 9:15am. I was nervous. Every possibility that could happen ran through my mind. I had never had an MRI before or even an IV. When I was taken back I was prepped, asked a few questions and then proceeded to where the MRI would take place. They asked if I wanted music to help me relax, and the entire process would take about 45 minutes to an hour. I asked them to play Christian music, and it did help. I had never considered myself to be claustrophobic, however being in that tube tested that. I tried my best to just keep my eyes closed and sing along to the songs playing in my ear. Telling myself, “it’s almost over”.
After our appointment Cody & I left and went to go eat some breakfast. I was starving since I didn’t eat dinner the night before (no appetite) and couldn’t eat before the MRI. We then ran a couple errands to try and distract ourselves and back home to wait to hear my results. I got the call around 4pm. My MRI was clear and there were no growths, obstructions, or blockages that would potentially put my uterus at risk. The doctor was very positive and said “we have no concerns moving forward with a normal D&C” praise Jesus! There was still some concern that I had some veins that could potentially be in the way, however, now that they knew what they were dealing with they felt confident they could move forward. Finally, after a month almost of bad news after bad news, we have something positive. We discussed the next steps and scheduled my pre-op and D&C for the next week. My doctor was out of town currently on spring break and I really just wanted to see her and talk to her. I was still passing tissue and clots so I also wanted to give my body a chance to “finish this” in the meantime.
On March 22 I had my pre-op appointment. This was also the day we had planned to announce our pregnancy to the world. I should have be right around 13 weeks today. I had been kind of absent on Instagram for the past few weeks, explaining to my followers that there was a lot going on and I would fill them in soon. We decided it felt right for us to announce that we had lost our baby on this day. I couldn’t get on and pretend anymore. I felt like I was lying to everyone. I also felt deeply that I needed to share my story and let other women know that they weren’t alone. If you want to read that post you can find it HERE.
At our pre-op apt we determined that I had not lost all the tissue, and there was still concern of blockage of some kind. They thought maybe some veins had gotten tangled, and so I was put on high risk for a blood transfusion. In the case something went “wrong” I had to sign a form saying I would accept blood to save my life. March 23 I had to give blood one last time to insure I wasn’t COVID positive before the survey. I had just had COVID over Christmas and anew Years so I was at the cusp of my “immunity”. I was negative, so we proceeded with the D&C on March 24.
I had never had any type of surgery before. Never been under anesthesia. As you can imagine my anxiety was through the roof. However, I remember feeling peace and God’s hand on my shoulder as I was wheeled back to the operating room. I remember them playing music, I think Bruno Mars was playing and a nurse asked me if I would like different music. I asked her to play Hillsong. I took a few deeps breaths, then fell asleep.
I am not quite sure what I actually dreamed about while I was under. However, when I woke up I felt a rush come over me. I was a little out of it, I remember seeing Cody and him grabbing my hand. I looked around and starting saying “Where’s my baby?! I want my baby!” over and over again. I was so confused. I also remember looking at Cody and telling him, “it was a boy, our baby was a boy” and he just said “it’s okay honey” and held my hand. I was in a lot of pain, almost immediately as I came to I could feel cramping all over. The nurse was amazing and immediately made it stop as I was on the verge of screaming. We sat in recovery for about an hour, then after I was cleared Cody was told he can go get the car and the nurse would wheel me down.
As the nurse helped me to he wheelchair she sat with me and held my hand. I remember how warm she felt and how comforting she was. I will never forget what she told me, as it sticks with me to this day. “You are so strong. And you will feel weak for a little bit. I want you to know that it is okay to cry, and it is okay to not be okay. But it is also okay to be okay. You don’t have to feel guilty for having a good day. You have had a loss, and it is going to take time to heal from that. But you are so strong.”
I was released an told to come back April 7 for a follow up. I took the rest of the week after the surgery off work to heal, it was also Cody’s birthday that weekend and I wanted to get as much rest as possible so that we could at least go to dinner. By that Saturday I felt honestly, fine. Physically of course. I was still in a whirlwind of emotions of how I should act around people, if I should just go on about my life as it was before. I realized, after remembering what my nurse told me, it’s okay to be okay. There is no right or wrong way to act or feel after something like this. In mourning you are struck with so many emotions at all different times, I needed to give myself some Grace.
At my follow up we were told that the surgery went better than expected. I had minimal bleeding and there was no blockage. How?! I had just had an MRI showing something was in the way, but now there’s not. That is God. My doctor was very impressed by how successful the procedure was and told us that if we were ready to start trying again we could, as my period came back that day- so basically it was “go time” if we were ready.
Today is May 4th. Since my D&C we have for the most part continued life on as “normal”. Traveling, staying busy, if you didn’t know- you probably never would. I have my days where it’s all I can think about. I give myself a few minutes to cry, wipe my tears and go back to work. This week has been a little more difficult, as I started my period again yesterday (there is no TMI at this point). I took a few minutes and cried. I let Cody hold me and tell me “we will try again”. His optimism throughout all of this has been everything. Even when I knew he was scared for me, he never let it show. He knew I needed him to be strong for me. Part of me is a little relieved that we didn’t get pregnant again this round. Maybe it is for the best? I am sure no matter how many times I say I am ready, God knows better. Maybe I need more time to heal mentally. Maybe I need more time to come to terms with this. I think the whole thing is hitting me a little harder this week since Mother’s Day is coming up. I was so excited to finally get to celebrate this year. I was already imagining the picture I would take holding my belly saying “my first officially Mother’s Day with you”. I think I have cried 10 times today.
I don’t know if I am scared of this happening again. Obviously, I would hate to have to experience this again, but I feel it so deeply in my heart that God will give me a child. I just have to wait, be patient. Trust. I of course pray that I never have to experience this amount pain, grief and physical turmoil ever again. But I don’t think that puts me in fear of trying. I want to try. I want my baby. I want to be a mother. For real this time. Physically, not just in my heart. I want it so badly. I don’t believe God would have put this in my heart if it wasn’t a part of his plan for me. So, we will keep trying. We will not give up. We will have our baby and we will be the best parents. I know it. I believe it. I trust it.
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways submit to Him and He will set your paths straight”- Proverbs 3:5-6
