Our Miscarriage Story

I want to start off by saying, “Thank you!” Thank you for being patient and supportive to me and my family during this time. I took some time to share this because I really wanted to write this carefully. I documented my entire journey of my miscarriage. From angry poems, letters to my angel baby, and prayers to God. There were MANY versions of this post, some much angrier than others . It was very apparent that before I shared my story, I needed to process my trauma and begin the journey of healing and peace.

I knew from the very beginning that I wanted to share our miscarriage story with the world because there really isn’t enough awareness out there. Miscarriage is often viewed as “taboo” or is even brushed off because it happens to so many women. When my doctor told me that I was part of the “1 in 4” statistic, I wondered, “If this is so common, why is it so hard for me to find information on what I’m about to experience emotionally, or what my body is about to endure?”

Let’s start from the top. On September 12, 2021, I found out I was pregnant and wanted to announce my pregnancy to my husband in a cute way to make this moment extra special. I dressed my son, Hudson, in the cutest “BIG BROTHER” sweater with a sign that said “PROMOTED TO BIG BROTHER.” I screamed for my husband, Ryan, to come quick and he came rushing down the hall carrying the kitchen trash that he was just about to take out. Holding a large bag of trash in his hand, he had the biggest smile and we all hugged, soaking in this special moment. We were so excited for our newest little addition and eager to share our news with our closest family members and friends. Unfortunately, our story took an unexpected turn and my family started a new chapter of our lives.

A Little Backstory

The minute I found out I was pregnant, I was so excited and determined to have a healthy pregnancy. I bought my favorite prenatal vitamins and got back into doing some daily physical activity. After my first phone appointment, I had to wait to schedule my first OBGYN appointment. The waiting game felt like months! Ryan and I were eager to see our little seed growing during the first ultrasound. We looked forward to listening to the beautiful melody of the baby’s heartbeat.

We just couldn’t keep our exciting news to ourselves, so we started telling our family and closest friends. At the time, miscarriage was not even a thought in my mind. I’m not sure if it was me thinking positive or just being naive. My first pregnancy with Hudson was very successful, I had no reason to think this one would be any different.

I quickly found out that my best friend and my sister in law were also expecting. All three of us would have been due at the same time! When I was pregnant with Hudson, I was living in San Diego away from my friends and family. Luckily, my in laws were relatively close. However, it felt like I didn’t really have anyone to share my pregnancy with other than my husband. I was also pregnant during the pandemic, so you can say that it wasn’t exactly a “normal pregnancy.” There were many experiences that I did not get to have.

A Weekend of Heartbreak

Friday

It was Friday, October 15, 2021. Ryan and I were getting ready to fly to San Diego for the weekend. We were planning to celebrate our wedding anniversary and my friend’s wedding. Ryan dropped Hudson off with my parents and I headed to work for the day. It was a normal day at school and it felt like a beautiful day! I was so looking forward to the weekend!

Being Admitted

During my lunch break, I was going to use the bathroom when I noticed something felt different. I had some cramping in the left side of my lower back but it was tolerable. I figured maybe I had just slept wrong. 

Then when I went to the bathroom, I saw the blood. I was already in denial, trying to convince myself it was okay. I put on a pad and continued my work day. In my head I figured teaching my students is something I can control and let’s be honest, finding coverage and doing sub plans was not in the cards.

After 20 minutes of waiting on hold, I was told to go in to the Emergency Room. I was 9 weeks pregnant. I hadn’t even had my first doctor visit yet. But I did everything in my power to make sure this baby was growing and healthy. I rushed home after school to meet Ryan and we headed to the emergency room together.

We made it to the emergency room and the front desk told me that no one is allowed to go in with me because of the pandemic. I told Ryan he could go home until I called him, but he insisted on sitting in his car in the parking lot. As much as he was there to support me, all in all, I was there alone. Thinking back now, I can’t even begin to imagine the pain and anxiety he went through sitting there for hours…waiting. It took me about 2 hours to get my blood work and everything squared away just for them to finally admit me. Once I was admitted there continued to be more vicious cycles of waiting. I was given a gown to change into and told to wait until they could get me in for an ultrasound.

The Ultrasound

Friday Night

During the ultrasound, the tech barely made eye contact with me. Once she had a visual, she turned the screen away from me without saying a word. She looked at the screen closer, turned the volume all the way up in the machine, and slowly turned it down. 

Without saying anything, she said, “we’re done, a doctor will talk to you about your results soon.” She wheeled me out and left me in the hallway for transport. I never got to see my baby. That was my first and last sonogram. I didn’t get to look at the screen and say, “Mommy loves you so much baby. You’re beautiful in every way.” 

I should have known then, but I guess I was just in complete desperation for things to be okay. I kept thinking God wouldn’t take this joy from us. I’ve been faithful to Him. I believe in His power and miracles.

Hit With The Cold Truth

After another 2 hours of waiting, the doctor came in and his first question was, “Ma’am, was this a desired pregnancy?”  Shocked by his forwardness and lack of bedside manner I said, “yes.” He then got eye level with me as I was laying on the gurney and said, “what you are experiencing are early signs of a miscarriage, I am sorry for your loss.” He told me that by the looks of the ultrasound the baby’s heart stopped beating 2 weeks ago. 

I began to fixate on this because I found out I was pregnant 2 days after I got my first COVID shot. After meeting with my OB, she encouraged me to get the second one despite being newly pregnant. I got my second shot 2 weeks before my trip to the ER. The doctor of course told me, “it’s highly unlikely it was because of the shot, but there is NO way to know for sure”.

That answer just was not enough for me. I needed to know if it was my fault. As a teacher, I was under public scrutiny by the media and felt pressured to get the shot to begin with. Eventually, I gave in, and now the worst has come. My world became a blur and suddenly his voice faded into the background noise of the ER. The room began spinning as if I was on this never ending Disneyland Tea Cups ride. 

My brain quickly bounced back into the conversation and started asking him questions.

“Is there anything I can do to fix this?” 

“What exactly is going to happen to my body?” 

“What do I do with the amniotic sac or ‘fetus,’ if or when I see it?” 

Response after response, his medical talk and lack of bedside manner made me quickly say, “can I please get out of here now?” 

Before leaving, he made sure to comment on the fact that I’m only 27 and I have plenty of time for another one. I walked out of the ER thankful to never see his face again, but knowing that his voice and those words will forever be engrained in my mind. 

Ryan came and picked me up. The second I sat in the car my body just collapsed and I sobbed in the passenger’s seat. Trying to console me, he held me as tears streamed down my face. As we were driving home, I remember hearing Fleetwood Mac’s song, ”Landslide,” quietly playing in the background on the radio. We finally made it home…

The Miscarriage Experience

When we got home, I knew that the worst wasn’t over yet. I began searching for information on what to expect, trying to find other women with similar experiences through Instagram. To be honest, it was really difficult and I couldn’t really find what I was looking for. Why was it so hard to find this information? If this happens to 1 in 4 women, why is this topic so “Hush, Hush.” My greatest resource was my best friend and two other mamas I met through my Instagram.

Saturday- Sunday

All I wanted to do and all I really could do was be in bed – all day. I was dealing with constant cramps. The kind that make you curl into a ball and tighten all your muscles. The bleeding started off really light and became heavier and heavier throughout the two days. I could feel my body starting to reject the baby and all I wanted was to turn back time. Although I was in an immense amount of physical pain, I think the mental images and emotional pain was much worse. Every time I saw a clot, I couldn’t help but feel like my little baby was slipping through my fingers and I could do nothing to stop it. I was constantly praying for peace, but all I could feel was helpless and shame.

In the hours I spent in my bed, all I could think about was pain. The pain of my mind asking all of the what ifs, the thoughts of all the beautiful moments and memories that were being stripped from me. The joy and positive light that I exuded slowly dimming into darkness and grief. I was flooded with emotions but most of all RAGE. I had all this rage and nothing to do with it. No one to blame.

Monday, October 18, 2021

Ryan and I were supposed to be celebrating our wedding anniversary. Instead, I spent the entire day glued to the toilet. Each time I went to the bathroom, I thought, “is this it?”, praying for it to be over. The contractions became so intense at one point, and my urge to use the bathroom only grew. There were hours that I can remember laying on the bathroom floor crying out to God to help us through this. After two days of seeing red, it finally was over. There, in the toilet I saw the little fetus, our little baby.

What Do I Do With It?

Before I move forward, I want to point out that there is no right or wrong way to handle a situation like this. You have to do what is best for you. How you choose to handle this situation is your choice, and should not be influenced by anyone. Make sure that you and your partner agree. Whether you decide in the moment to flush, or collect it and think over what you want. Do what brings you closure!

I had no idea what to do with this little fetus in front of us. The ER doctor told me to “flush the specimen,” but I just couldn’t. I spoke to this little baby in the womb. I sang to it everyday driving to work. Though this baby may have never been born, I still viewed it as my child and loved it unconditionally. There had to be another way. My husband and I decided to collect it and find a way to honor our unborn child in a way that would bring us some solace.

Ryan and I held each other and wept on the bathroom floor. It was the most painful experience him and I have ever gone through. Sometimes I replay this moment back in my head because although at this very moment our worlds shattered, him and I had become so close. We saw parts of each other that we have never seen before. Ryan even began to pray over our little one with the most beautiful prayer. This was the first time I ever heard my husband pray before, and his prayer alone brought some peace to my heart.

The cramping finally stopped but my body felt sore and exhausted. I continued to bleed lightly for the next couple of days. We had a doctor appointment on Tuesday, October 19, where they did an ultrasound to make sure my uterus was clear. The cramping was finally over, but my heart ache remained. All night, I thought about how I wanted to honor our lost baby. I wanted it to be something positive for our growth as we navigated the loss.

Our Baby Tree

We talked about several alternatives such as cremation, burial, or planting it. Ryan and I decided to replace this traumatic memory with something beautiful and meaningful. Together, we went to a local nursery and walked around the entire place looking for the perfect tree. We walked through holding hands, talking about what would be the perfect fit for us (and one that was easy to take care of). Knowing that we were not in our forever home, we decided to get a rubber ficus plant. (I promise, it looks like a tree!) Ryan picked out a beautiful pot to hold our new house plant.

When we got home, we played music in the backyard and began to plant our baby inside. In this moment I could feel the weight being slowly lifted from my shoulders and I felt like I could breathe a little. The sun was shining and I could feel a cool breeze on my face. This moment was painful, but oh so beautiful.

We gently placed our little one into the pot, covered it with more soil, and placed our new baby tree inside. We both watered our tree and once again prayed over it. Together, we sat in the back yard next to our little tree and admired all of its beauty. Ryan carried the tree inside and made a place for it right in front of our living room window. Every day, I sit on the couch and look at our baby tree. Instead of remembering the trauma from this experience, I choose to see the life continuing through this tree.

I am not saying I didn’t feel any pain and I didn’t have flashbacks of the trauma. Grief come in waves and sometimes I still experience it from time to time. There were a number of times I lost my mind, lashed out, and wasn’t thinking rationally. I was just doing my best at the time. I still have things to work through, but with God’s love, I have come so far. Sharing my story has been one of the HARDEST things I have ever done.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading this post. I appreciate you taking the time to read our story.