Two years ago today my world was completely turned upside down. We had gone through the usual elation of a positive pregnancy test, and I went in for a 9 week ultrasound to chart my high risk pregnancy. I remember lying on that table with the ultrasound tech trying to detect a heartbeat, with no success. The next nine months were such a roller coaster ride of emotions, that even still thinking about now, is still so hard to comprehend.
I think those that have experienced a pregnancy loss or have struggled to get pregnant are truly the only that can understand that feeling of loss. I can't tell you how many people told me it was ok, the baby wasn't going to be healthy anyway, this was best. Or, luckily you found out now, so early on. Or that basically looked at me and couldn't understand why I was crying.
I remember getting home and having a hospital associate call and ask me tell them in detail what I understood the procedure I was having the next day entailed. I was angry at this. I wasn't having a splinter removed, I replied, "my baby has died and the doctor will be removing the fetus." I remember my body still letting me down as I still was throwing up with morning sickness from all of the hormones.
That same week, as I struggled to stop crying, I went in to a counselor who basically told me, sounds like I was sad and that I would get over it. She didn't understand the feeling of loss or the feeling of inadequacy.
I somehow pulled through for Christmas, put on a smile to go back to work and tried to deal with the loss by myself. Which was a bury your head in the sand approach. The pain lessened a bit, but I still thought of all of the pregnancy milestones I should be going through.
The hardest phase would probably be a surprise to most, it was when we found out we were pregnant again. Every appointment I went in for, I was sure that they were going to tell me that the baby didn't have a heartbeat. As I sat in the doctors office at around 6 weeks, she told me that they couldn't detect a heartbeat, but it was too early to call it a non viable fetus. (What a nurturing response). She didn't tell me that the heartbeat is detectable any time between 5 and 7 weeks. I spent the next week by myself in New Orleans on a work trip, convinced i was going to find out the next week that my baby wasn't ok. I researched when I should be able to hear the heartbeat and signs of pregnancy. I cried. We went back in for a follow up when I got back and heard the heartbeat for the first time. It was magical. I changed doctors, and I still second guessed every moment of that first few months of pregnancy. Cramping, spotting, morning sickness. I didn't trust that my body would do what it was meant to do. I was that crazy woman in my doctors office. But we made it.
As we near C's first birthday I know the follow up journey was worth it, it doesn't mean it was easy. I won't ever forget the milestones this other baby should be reaching, but I also know that if that baby had survived, we more than likely wouldn't have C in our life.
I leave you with the reason I wrote this, miscarriage is more than just the loss of a baby. It is the loss of a hope, a dream, and a loss of trusting your body to be able do what you want it to or you think it is supposed to. In the end, it would probably just be easier to leave it alone and not talk about it. But I think that isn't fair to others experiencing this loss. My advice to you, the best way to deal with this with those you love who maybe going through this, is to offer a hug, a card and just remember that they will be tracking the milestones their baby would have had. Remember them on their due date, don't push them to talk about it, remember them during their next pregnancy journey. And please don't ever say, it is for the best.
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