Finding out that I was pregnant was a joyful moment. I had all of the butterfly feelings in my stomach, eager and ready to embrace the journey of being pregnant again. We had our challenges unknowingly, trying to conceive for almost a year. I knew something was different this time, I had actually remembered the day when I ovulated and what I felt that day. So when I saw my positive pregnancy test I was thrilled. I had recently found out my sex hormones were low, cortisol through the roof and I was feeling tired and all out of whack, but somehow 2-3 weeks into some lifestyle changes and supplements, I was pregnant. I was ready to now start a new journey with my second child. It was a blessing and I was humbled. I felt grateful thinking I’d had a hard time doing this, but I fixed whatever my problems were. I did it again and that felt great.
Then there were the stresses: all that we have going on right now, finances being a mess and I wasn’t really sure what we were going to do. I thought, “Wow, I said before my son got here, that I didn’t want to bring a baby into chaos. I reminded myself to take a break from that lizard voice and give myself some grace. I reminded myself to be mindful, try to not stress myself, not feel bad, and not start blaming myself or pointing the finger. Instead, just embrace being pregnant. I waited maybe two days before I actually told my husband because I wasn’t really sure where we were going to go with the conversation. I know he’s under a lot of stress right now and I didn’t want to add more stress to his plate. When I finally told him, he was actually happy. He also took time to be grateful; he acknowledged that we had overcome our challenge of getting pregnant again. He was happy. He had to leave to go to work in New York, so I focused my energy on what I could do from home to contribute to our family.
I got our first appointment scheduled right away and looked forward to it. I was seeing different doctors at a different health care system than my last pregnancy and I was ok with that.
Fast forward… made it to that appointment solo. I arrived happy, energetic, and eager! I provided my urine sample and happily took a seat. I sat in the waiting room for over an hour since the ultrasound department was behind. After a few deep breathing sessions and checking in with the admin staff a few times, I was finally called back for my ultrasound. At this point, however, I had started to feel uncomfortable, uneasy, and frustrated. Being alone made it tough, I felt like no one cared. Somehow the worries went away. I undressed from the waist down, coved with the drape, and hopped on the table ready for pictures. As the tech got started I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. Her tone changed a bit. She went from sounding friendly and bubbly to be very short and apprehensive, to not saying anything at all. She kept moving around trying different angles and out of nowhere she just said “I’m sorry I can’t get a heartbeat for you.”
I paused before thinking the worse and asked if it could just be too small. Then she responded, “yeah sure, of course, but I’m going to let you get dressed and take you to the room and your doctor will be in to talk with you.” Before I knew it she had pulled out, cleaned, and gotten out of the room.
At this point I began to hyperventilate but quickly regained my composure and spoke some positive words of affirmation to myself, reminding myself that maybe it’s too early, you can’t always get a heartbeat on the first ultrasound and that’s normal. Let’s just get dressed and go see what the doctor has to say.” I did just that. I sat in that room and waited for him for another 20 minutes or so. During that time I had periods where I was crying, up and down didn’t know what to think, but wanted to continue to remain optimistic and positive. I had called my husband and given him an update and he also didn’t really know what to say but he was positive, optimistic and the first thing he said was “yeah it’s too soon let’s just give it some more time, so what are they going to do have you come back?”
By the time the doctor came into the room, my nerves were all over the place but he had a very calming demeanor about him. He looked me in the eyes and asked me some questions about my history of getting pregnant, my last menstrual period, and all of the history-related questions. After reviewing these things with me, he rubbed my hands and told me not to worry; he had no ill feelings about this not being a viable pregnancy.” He was honest that he didn’t know what would happen, but in my situation, I should give it 2 weeks and then come back in for a “do-over” first appointment, and in the meantime, continue everything I was doing. I mentioned my hormonal concerns, but besides asking if my thyroid hormones were fine, he didn’t say much about that information.
I left that appointment feeling weird. I cried more once I was alone in the car, but again called my husband and his kind words calmed my anxiety. He wanted to wait the two weeks and was sure there would be a strong heartbeat then. I carried that weight, only telling my mother and a close friend. Part of me had faith, but the other part of me felt it. I felt the loss, the emptiness, the end of that joy of being pregnant.
I questioned how, why, and again how could this happen to me? Wasn’t I doing all the “right things,” eating healthy, exercising, drinking enough water, taking my vitamins, and probiotics, sleeping, dancing, laughing, loving, and living? Of course the nurse in me came out, looking up protocols, ingredients in my supplements etc. I was on a search for an answer. I knew miscarriages are actually common, could happen for a variety of reasons, but even my knowledge couldn’t have prepared me for what I was experiencing.
Those two weeks were the longest ever, and again I arrived alone, but excited and ready for the good news. This appointment was quicker. I watched the screen, eagerly watching the measurements, but again, there was no heartbeat. I had to relive this experience all over again. The next day I had an appointment at a different clinic for a second opinion, but again the news was no different. I was ready to accept it at that time. My husband and mother, however, were not. They still had hope and encouraged me to strive forward. At this point, I knew the options to do a D & C and have the sac removed, but we decided to wait and see if my body will expel things naturally. I am terribly afraid of being a patient, considering I am a nurse myself, so this seemed like the best option for me. I carried on for another two weeks, traveling with my family, as spending time with them brought me comfort. I did all I could to nurture myself, my body, and my mind. It was challenging. I blamed myself, silently for missing something, thinking there was something I had not done, or actually did do to cause this. My husband was still away working, and I tried my best to not make him feel guilty. He was working to keep us stable throughout this time, but now he wanted to be home for me. I wore a smile and kept my faith, but inside I was a wreck. I was sad, I was losing my baby. It didn’t matter the size or the gestational age, it was me losing my baby. I was hurting. It was tough being pregnant, but “not.” I had not told anyone, so when I had to face friends and family that maybe thought I was pregnant but wasn’t going to ask, I did not know how to respond anyhow. I kept my peace because it would have surely been tough to explain what was actually happening. Thus after going to two events, I decided no more.
Finally, after another two weeks of isolation, I convinced myself to go out for my girlfriend’s birthday. I enjoyed the night, laughing, dancing in my seat, and keeping my mind off of my fears and ill feelings about having a baby with no heartbeat inside of me. Then later that night, my son woke me up frantically around 3 am, crying to nurse all of a sudden. He had been weaning since March, one reason was because of my difficulty conceiving, and cycles not returning while I was nursing for over a year, but occasionally I would nurse if needed. This night I released that guilty feeling holding back my breast when I knew this was the nourishment he deserved and allowed him to nurse away. He quickly calmed down and went back to sleep peacefully, but soon afterward the cramps came on. I braced myself and did deep breathing through the pain, and there was blood when I went to the restroom. It wasn’t what I expected as I had read various stories hoping to know what to look for. It just seemed like heavy flow, but since my cycles were light and irregular usually, I didn’t know how much to expect or see. I knew if it seemed excessive or if I became weak or lightheaded to seek help. I sat there for maybe an hour or so, crying, praying, and then ultimately feeling relieved. I shared with my husband and then silently cried internally, falling asleep. I felt at peace; my body had done what it was supposed to do. At this point I had accepted that I had done all I could do, I wasn’t being punished, or was I?
I scheduled a doctor's appointment, letting them know I had a miscarriage. Everyone was supportive and kept saying they were sorry for my loss. I understood why, but it was the last thing I wanted to hear. Unfortunately, my ultrasound showed tissue remains, so I was sent home with Cytotec, the medication to induce a miscarriage to help get rid of the remaining tissue. I was again made aware of the surgical procedure done to remove the baby, a D&C, but because it was so small, we decided to try the medication. I was given instructions and rescheduled to come back after one week. I tried the vaginal dose first but figured it had not done the job considering I still did not have much bleeding. I returned for my repeat ultrasound and was told that there was still tissue again, so this time I left with an oral prescription dose of Cytotec and scheduled a D & C.
Again I followed up after one week, just prior to the surgery date, hoping to be done with this experience, but had to go for the procedure. At this point, I wanted this to be over, carry on with healing, and consider trying again. Those feelings haunt me now, how could I just get over it and try again? There were times I allowed myself to cry and really feel my emotions. I had to be in my emotions and really feel this loss. It was my baby and I didn’t have to be ashamed of that. I was hard on myself at times, but I had to remember to be fair and gentle. My sweet two year old would come to me and wipe my tears, telling me “mommy don’t cry.” It was the sweetest thing, and he had no idea he was giving his mommy strength to heal and carry on, or did he? I even looked at him and told myself that I had to be present, and be grateful that I at least had him. Saying that was not fair, I deserved to grieve the loss of my butterfly baby and feel the grief knowing I do deserve to have another child.
My miscarriage was dragged out which caused more trauma. It was a missed, delayed miscarriage over almost 2 months worth of traumatizing appointments to the clinic, having to hide my feelings, my sorrow, my loss, and my embarrassment. While I felt supported, it was a tough experience and still is hard to think through.
To every woman who has ever experienced a loss, my heart sings for you, for us all. We have to be resilient beings to ever endure such pain and still strive to move forward. I am living my journey one day at a time, allowing myself to really feel what I feel and be present with my feelings. I am thankful for the support I’ve received. I am beyond blessed to have my husband who never once wanted to let me down. He was ready to try again right away, always told me it wasn’t my fault, and he was sorry for the amount of stress I was under. I am just now able to come to terms and not blame or shame myself but instead honor and embrace my butterfly baby. I trust that the journey ahead will have its ups and downs, and I find comfort in being human. Another tool I found and maintained throughout this experience was the power of deep breathing. I also meditated with my BrainTap Headset as much as I could to find peace and stop the negative thoughts and voices in my head. This happened, and I am healing one day at a time. If you have experienced a loss, what are some ways or things you used that helped you get through it? Share in the comments.
Today, I am even more thankful for having found many resources that I use to maintain my sanity and improve my health and well-being. I would have never imagined this happening to me, and in the midst of it all, there were times I admit I had lost faith. The loss and grief sessions offered through BrainTap with Dr. Patrick Porter and colleagues were very helpful for me. I sometimes cried more, and sometimes, I slept and woke up feeling better, and less sad, but overall, it was calming for me during such times when I often felt alone. The sessions allowed me to feel my emotions, address them, and find a renewed sense of strength and resilience that I was losing. I am grateful and happy to share this experience with anyone in need of encouragement throughout life's challenges. Try it free here today.
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