I Had a Miscarriage
(Please don't read this if miscarriage is hard for you to read about. This is about my journey and I'd hate to make you re-live yours if you don't want to.)
We weren't planning on having any more children.
I had awful hyperemesis with both of our kiddos. After our daughter was born I knew I wanted to take one more shot and hope to the stars that the Lord would give us a boy and we could call it good. And what do you know, we got a boy. But to bring him here was hard. It meant being on bed rest 24/7, almost the entire time. It meant being hooked up to an IV. It meant my husband sticking a port into my legs everyday that would administer anti-nausea medicine into my body throughout the day. It meant paying someone else to care for our first born. It meant my mother in law coming over to cook and clean before my husband would finally come home and take over the rest of the night.
When I found out I was pregnant with our third blessing and I wasn't sick (I had a few days of nausea and that was it), I can't tell you how much joy I felt. I could finally experience pregnancy like everyone else. I could finally dress my bump. I would be able to succumb to cravings, ACTUALLY feel hungry and enjoy the growth of my child within me.
I remember thinking it was too good to be true. I walked into our midwives' building excited to be able to take this route for our birthing this time and they pushed on my stomach feeling around for the baby. And I can remember those words, "There it is. I can feel it right there."
Just a few days went by. It all happened so fast. The bleeding and the cramps came on and I remember holding on to every strand of hope when the bleeding would lighten up or when the cramping went away. Going to the bathroom was mortifying. Because I knew with each time I went there was a chance our thoughts that a miscarriage was happening would be confirmed.
And it did. Our proof, our life, our love was in a jar.
Our baby was gone. I remember not wanting to look. Screaming and falling to the floor. My husband falling to the floor with me answering my questions I know made him die to answer. "It's our baby isn't it?"
This all happened an hour before I was to go in to get a sonogram to see what was causing the bleeding, when our hopes were still set on a chance for survival. My husband watched the technician scan my belly. Only to confirm that there was nothing left. My worst nightmare.
I hated my belly. I still had a pouch that was supposed to house and protect my child. And somehow it had let me down. Somehow my body had let me down.
The next day I went to shower, and it was the first time I had looked at my body since. I couldn't even move. I hated having the belly as a reminder of what I lost and when my belly was back to its normal size I hated the sight of it and the reminder that I no longer had a baby. My husband held me as I cried and he washed my hair.
I still panic when I roll over to sleep on my back. I feel like I am making it hard for the baby to breathe. But then I remember it's just me and I lay on my side anyway. I hate that my husband had to hear my screams. That he had to work and go back into the world while I could be at home and take more time to go through my emotions. I hate that we have things that trigger us into a state of high emotions and breakdowns at any time. But I still and will always love that baby.
It's hard to hear our children ask us when we'll have another baby. Our daughter prayed over dinner last night and asked God to bring us a baby that won't die. This was a door I hadn't even thought to open. To have another child. One because I was so sick with the other two I didn't think I could do that again emotionally or physically or with two kids already to care for. And two because I have an autoimmune disease. I had heard it was hard to get pregnant and after four years of not trying to not get pregnant and nothing had happened I assumed my baby making years were over. And I was ok with that. I am happy with our two amazing kiddos. They bring so much light and joy to my world. But I thought the doors were closed.
As I move forward. I'm afraid to move forward. I don't look forward to the day when hours go by and I don't think about our baby. When I go a whole day smiling and laughing and not thinking about our baby, just the thought of that breaks my heart. I don't like what I went through, but I also don't want to forget.
It was the worst ending to my 8 weeks. But it was the most perfect 8 weeks.
We were supposed to have a baby. We had an Angel instead.
Baby Aspen Carroll 9/25/17
*1 in 4 women will experience a miscarriage in their lifetime. There are many resources and help if you have recently experienced a loss. And know that you don't have to go through it alone.