The Loss That Changed My Life: The Power of My Miscarriage

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There are many times in our life that we will encounter life altering events and situations. Some are more traumatic than others, some will be easier to get over, and some will linger for many, many years. I have had quite a few in my 30+ years of life and one really turned my life upside down mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and physically.

October 13, 2008 was that day. This is the day that I miscarried my first baby. Exactly 10 years ago a piece of me died in more than one way.

Let me take you back 10 years…

You get married at 25 years old you, the doctors tell you that it will be hard to get pregnant because you’ve been on birth control since you were 13 years old and this has cause the lining of your uterus to be very thin. The lining is so thin that you may not be able to hold your baby IF you get pregnant. Then you are told that time will only tell if your lining will go back to being “somewhat normal”. Your heart drops but you don’t fully show it.

Now, imagine you are 26 years old and you finally have a feeling that you are pregnant! It is something that you have wanted for some time and it is something that you have prayed would happen. You also prayed that the doctors would be wrong. You are excited to take a pregnancy test but at the same time you do not want to get your hopes for nothing. This was me 10 years ago.

At that time, I had decided to finally go back and finish getting my degree from Georgia Southern University, since taking some time off from college. I was driving 4 hours to complete my student teaching, which was the last requirement. I had to drive 2.5 hours from Atlanta to Bleckley County Georgia and back home. I was leaving my house around 4:30am each morning to make sure I got to the school on time. I was so focused on accomplishing the goal I had set, that when I noticed a difference in myself, I just thought it was because I doing so much at that time with being married, school, business, family, and more. Plus I didn’t want to experience a false sense of hope.

I finally decide to take a pregnancy test and the results appeared very fast. PREGNANT is what it showed. I took a second test and same thing… fast results… PREGNANT! I was ecstatic! I couldn’t wait to tell my husband! The sheer joy that exuded from him was all I imagined it would be. I called and set a doctor’s appointment. Life was great!

Fast forward some time, it is now Sunday, October 12, 2008. I had prepared a very creative lesson plan that I was set to teach my class in the morning and I was so giddy because I knew the kids would love it. I couldn’t wait to teach it.  We went to bed, as we normally do, nothing out of the norm for a typical Sunday night.

BAM! After being sleep for a few hours, the worst pain I have ever felt in my life awakens me. I literally woke up with tears running down my face because I was hurting so much. I could only let out a scream and ball up. I yelled for my husband to wake up and then I felt something warm begin to flow. I knew it was blood. I wobbled as fast as I could to the bathroom and sure enough it was blood. We immediately knew something was wrong and rushed to the closest hospital. I will not name the hospital because of the horrible experience I encountered. Now that I have given birth to 2 children, I can honestly say that this pain was worse than giving birth. I wouldn’t wish this pain on anyone.

As Reco zoomed down the highway, I sat on the passenger side doubled over in pain, and we were both praying – out loud and I was saying some extra prayers in my head. I think I knew what was happening but didn’t want to actually say it out loud. We arrived to the emergency room, explained what was happening, checked in, and sat and waited… and waited… and waited. My husband continued to check and see why we were had not been given a room and we were repeatedly told they are waiting on one to become available. It was early in the morning on Monday, October 13, 2008; the emergency room was not busy. I remember trying to be as silent as I could be in the waiting room because it was so empty and quiet and I was in so much pain. I couldn’t understand why we were waiting and why the staff seemed so heartless and nonchalant. I knew they could see I was in pain, I knew they could see my tears and how scared I was, how panicked I was, and how I really needed some kind of urgent medical attention.

Then it happens… the moment I feared… the pain eerily subsided out of nowhere, I felt the urge to go to the bathroom, and I just felt a weird, dizzy feeling. I looked at my husband with tears in my eyes and said I needed to use the restroom and walked away. In that emergency room bathroom, alone, crying, heartbroken, and somewhat praying, I pass my baby while sitting on the toilet. I hear the splash of water; I see the blood, the small shapes of something in the toilet, and call for help. I am numb. They do what they have to do with what was in the toilet, I get taken back to a room, checked out, and finally was discharged after finding out I had miscarried and everything was released from my body.

Everything was out. I was no longer pregnant. My happiness was gone. I felt broken. I blamed myself. I felt something was wrong with me. I felt inadequate. I questioned myself. I questioned God. I was sad, angry, empty, hurt, confused, broken, distant, and helpless. The drive home seemed to take forever. I didn’t want to get out of bed but I had to eventually return back to college and complete my student teaching. After a few days, I did return to teaching and graduated with honors in December 2008.

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I began to journal and then decided to create a website where I could tell my story, share my journey, and hope to reach other women who experienced miscarriages or pregnancy loss. I wanted to help them in some way. I wanted to help others and help myself as well in the process. Not many people knew I had written all these journals and what I wanted to do. Then one day, in the midst of feeling helpless and depressed, I convinced myself that no one wanted to hear what I had to say. I packed up all those journals and never looked at them again. I never wrote again. Then one day while packing to move I found my journals and threw them all in the trash. I still felt no one wanted to hear what I had to say or what I felt.

I learned to put up a wall, a shell, and hide whatever I felt. I hid my moments when I cried and reflected on that day I lost my baby. I hid this for years. I barely talked about what I felt, how I blamed myself, and the fears I had when I conceived my two rainbow babies afterwards. I did not really speak on my miscarriage, the pain, and the healing process until 3-4 years ago. I also decided to start my blog and officially launch it on January 7, 2017 (my daughter’s birthday) because it’s something I had always wanted to do. I was finally making that dream come true that I wanted for so many years.

As you can see, for many years I suffered in silence. I also felt guilty for having my moments of grief and sorrow after being blessed with having my daughters. I felt that I was being ungrateful since I was able to have two healthy and successful pregnancies after the miscarriage. I just had my rainbow baby #2 and I still deal with the same feelings every now and again.

Each person deals with pregnancy loss differently and requires different types of support throughout the healing and mourning process. I even go through moments when I imagine if it was a boy or a girl that I loss. I think about what it would have been like, what it would have looked like, and because of these thoughts, it caused me to experience gender disappointment with my recent pregnancy. Of course I got over it and realized I am extremely blessed to have my second daughter.  

I keep telling myself that I know God knew what He was doing when He called my baby to be with him early. I have to keep convincing myself that it was part of His plan. 10 years later, it still hurts. Hurts like hell! I still ask why sometimes. I still have moments when I play out in my head what I could have done that could have caused my miscarriage, what I could have done to prevent it, and even go back to somehow it was my fault. It still hurts.

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Recovering and Coping:

I really want people to grasp the fact that, the loss of a child is hard no matter if the woman was pregnant for weeks, months, or even got a chance to hold her baby. Once you have had a miscarriage, even multiple miscarriages, or any other form of child loss, you learn to master the art of putting on a happy face so others won't see you crying on the inside. Crying on the inside when that day comes around each year or at the thoughts of what once was. Hiding how it makes you feel when others mention or question you about having children. That becomes a coping strategy but eventually you begin to learn and grow from it.

Please know that we will have moments of sadness, anger, feeling alone, misunderstood, self-blaming, and/or wanting to be left alone. This is part of the coping and healing process. Just do not try to rush or force someone to “hurry up and get over it”. Or even say, “It’s ok, you can just try again.” This does not help!

There are stages one will go through and they may repeat themselves often. There are stages of shock and denial, guilt and anger, depression and hopelessness, and acceptance of some kind. There is no order and each woman will go through these differently. The main thing here is to give her TIME! Allow her to take her time to heal and cope. Allow her to have her moments and go through the stages. Each October 13th is hard for me and even though it has been 10 years, I still have my moments.

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My suggestions for coping after miscarriage or experiencing any form of child loss:

(1)    Take your time and understand that whatever you are feeling is YOUR NORMAL. Those feelings are ok.

(2)    You have a right to grieve as little or as much as you want and need to.

(3)    There may never be any real true closer from child loss and if you feel you can find it, do what you need to do.

(4)    Seek and go to therapy or counseling. Professional help is always good. They may even provide strategies that can help heal and cope. You may even go to groups for child loss and speak with your religious or spiritual leaders.

(5)    Once you feel comfortable, share your feelings, thoughts, and experience with your spouse, significant other, and/or others who have experienced child loss.

(6)    Find things that will make you feel good or lift your spirits. Find a new hobby or reignite one that you have put off.

(7)    Once YOU are ready and if YOU want to, try to get pregnant again. Don’t rush it and make sure to check with your doctor to make sure everything is ok. Do your research as well.

(8)    This one is optional but do something each year in recognition of your angel baby, so their memory lives on forever.

One of the biggest issues that I have is that I like to have control and child loss typically is one that we humanly cannot control. After my miscarriage, I knew in my heart that I would be a mother. I didn’t know how many babies I would have but I knew I would be a mother one day. God has blessed me with my rainbow babies and my angel baby. I will forever be blessed.

What I’ve learned is that the feelings of pain from child loss is indescribable, however; it's small gestures from people that make the pain ease just a little bit. Before you make a decision to comfort someone, please find out what they like, need, and/or want. Not what you think they should receive. Be there for them in their moments when they need you. Just continue to love them and be by their side.

 

I am 1 of the 1 in 4!

Say What?!?

In the beginning I was asked so many times was this a planned pregnancy and why did I wait so long to get pregnant again? After having a miscarriage, the fear of getting pregnant again, the fear of it not happening, and/or having another miscarriage is hard to face and think about. So no, this wasn’t planned but it is truly a blessing!

Looking back, I have coined January as the “Say What?!?” month…

Well, honestly, there was a period of time when the talk of having another baby was a consistent topic and then life got in the way. Not only was there health issues with us and family members but we realized that having a baby at that point in our lives was not good “timing” because we were so busy and barely even getting everything done with our “big kids”. They were self-sufficient and very active in extra-curricular activities. I was teaching at the time and working long hours (because I taught, coached, left school late each day playing catch up, and finishing work at home) and my husband was running his company and being a CEO is no easy task with set hours.

As much as we wanted the timing to be right, there ultimately is no right time because life is always happening, there will always be up and downs, and even though it’s a hard pill for me to swallow… there are just some things we (I) cannot control! Being OCD, a small control freak, and not being able to control the “timing” can make you spaz out…

So… fast forward to the first week of January 2018, I am in a major stress zone. Preparing for my daughter’s 8th birthday party, things are going wrong left and right, plans falling apart, running late, and in the midst of it all I am not really feeling well. I haven’t been feeling well but I still have things to get done and I push that to the side. One of the things I am good at most of the time is hiding when I am not feeling well. I may be feeling horrible but you may only see that I am just “off”. On a scale of 1-10, I may feel like a 10 and that being the worst but you may only see me at a 4.

Things finally fall into place, get to the venue, kids having fun, and then the final part of the party head home for the sleepover. Now that the party is over and all kids have gone home from the sleepover, the pain I was feeling began to hit me. Hit me hard. Still I don’t really say much but say I need to rest from all the stressing and partying. I got to the point to where I was in so much pain, finally I broke down and I called my doctor. I get the nurse and she asks all these questions.

Long story short, my monthly cycle had been off schedule since October when we left our 10-day anniversary trip to London, Paris, and Spain.  For 2 weeks I am told that I need to take pregnancy tests that all gave me “not pregnant” results, I was told that I may be producing less estrogen, I could be entering pre-menopause, or may need to schedule an appointment to check and see if I have developed cysts or something more serious.

It’s now January 24, 2018 and while in Wal-Mart, I pass by the isle where the pregnancy tests are and I see 1 of the brands I normally purchase sitting on the shelf. I grab it. I mean really, what could it hurt; I was already freaking out at this point thinking something could be wrong with me and I could possibly need surgery. My husband is laughing at me and makes a joke about us buying stock in pregnancy tests because I’ve had to buy so many lately and just randomly buy one that day.

January 25, 2018, as soon as I wake up and I take the pregnancy test. BAM! Quicker than normal, the words “PREGNANT” show up. I’m shocked… in disbelief… confused… relieved… scared… nervous… frozen. Now what do I do? I’m happy because finally I know what’s been wrong with me but then a million and one questions pop in my head. All the while still sitting in the bathroom frozen.

 

“Ummmm… RECOOOOOOO!!!!!” I yell to my husband. He sees the test and his face is priceless. Want to talk about timing being off, not right again, and hands being completely full… sheesh!

You see, I had cried all my tears out, began to relieve the anger inside, stopped beating myself up as much, and just began to realize that I just was not going to get pregnant. It just wasn’t happening for me. No matter how long we had been trying, no matter how long I wasn’t on birth control, no matter how much I prayed, and no matter how much I wanted it… it just wasn’t going to happen. I had just become somewhat comfortable with the idea of never experiencing pregnancy again or bringing life into this world. Something I loved every minute of when I was pregnant with my daughter, Raegan, I’d never experience again. Life had become hectic and I was moving on.

So now denial sets in and I take test #2 the next day, January 26, 2018, and just like the previous test, “PREGNANT” popped up so fast. Well, there is no denying it now. I call the doctor’s office, appointment is set, and 5 days later on January 30, 2018 I get my first ultrasound. “Congrats mommy and daddy, you are 5.5 weeks pregnant and in 3 days you be 6 weeks pregnant. There is your little one on the screen. Let’s schedule your next appointment but first I must let you know that you will notice something on your paperwork… basically any woman that conceives or will give birth at 35 years old or older, your pregnancy is considered a high risk pregnancy and you are also basically known as an “elderly” pregnant woman…”

“Say What?!?”