Navigating one of life's hardest moments as a mother
I never thought I would share or look at this photo again. It brings back a time in my life that was very difficult and trauma filled. Having gone through two miscarriages I have learned a lot, and only have the courage to share now, in hopes that if you are going through or have gone through something similar know that you are not alone.
My favorite time of year is fall. The change of leaves brings a new season, brisk fall air and my favorite...football! When my husband and I found out we were pregnant it was a rush of emotions. First happy tears, then the "oh my gosh, there is a baby in my belly!" moment. Followed by the "I'm a little scared. Holy Sh*t what are we going to do?!?!" moment. I would dub the moment I saw positive on the pregnancy stick as one of the happiest days of my life. So much joy, excitement, and anxiousness with a little bit of "we can do this, we are going to do this together" mixed in.
Shortly after seeing the plus sign and telling my husband we became closer than ever. Knowing that we were going to bring a bundle of joy into this world felt so right and we were ready for this next chapter of our lives. We had just sold our first home and sold it so quickly we were living in my in-laws basement. Looking for our forever home and the real estate market was insane. It was taking a lot longer than we had expected to get back into a place of our own. But we were determined to do it.
After finding out we were pregnant, I remember laying in bed, me the little spoon and my husband the big spoon, with his arms wrapped around me. We would talk about how amazing it was going to be, becoming parents. My husband and I are high school sweethearts. We started dating young and always knew we wanted to start a family one day. What we didn't know was how hard of a road it was going to be for us.
Shortly after one of my best friends took the photo above, we reached what we thought was the safe point in our pregnancy. I was anxiously waiting to tell the entire world we were going to gain the titles of Mom and Dad. The second I hit 12 weeks pregnant I posted the photo above to my Facebook page with a caption on how elated we were to be introducing a little one. A week later I started bleeding.
I rushed to the doctors office and there was no heartbeat. I remember laying on the table looking up at the fluorescent lighting and tears falling out of the corners of my eyes when I heard the words "We're sorry, there is no heartbeat".
I felt so alone. So defeated. Distraught, sad, upset. The list goes on. I wondered what was wrong with me? Why couldn't my body carry this pregnancy. What did I do wrong? I was following all the protocols, eliminated all the things you aren't suppose to eat during pregnancy, getting rest, listening to my body. What had just happened? Dazed and confused was an understatement.
After getting the news I went into a depression. And although there was no heartbeat the doctor thought it would be best for me to try and pass the pregnancy on my own. With how much I was bleeding, he was certain it was going to happen soon. He was wrong. I spent the next week in between the bedroom and the bathroom in excruciating pain.
Public Scrutiny
Having publicly announced the pregnancy, meant that I had to publicly announce the miscarriage. I was devastated. I didn't know how I was going to explain this and to boot, the announcement had to be in a facebook post. Embarrassed, ashamed, scared and with swollen teary eyes I wrote and rewrote text a million times before I hit post. But after posting the most wonderful thing happened...
SO many friends, mothers, aunts, colleagues and old bosses of mine sent me messages about how they experienced a miscarriage too. I received text messages, direct messages, phone calls and an outpouring of support. I felt like God had wrapped me in a big hug and told me it was going to be ok, and that I wasn't alone. People I hadn't talked to in years reached out and told me about what they had went through, giving me comfort and most importantly hope. To this day I cannot express enough how much these women all helped me get through this tumultuous time.
I was off work for two weeks, buried myself in a room, cried all day and couldn't move on until these women reached out to me.
Emotional Turmoil
The details of what my body physically went through are mine to keep. The pain I felt, the emotional turmoil and how much my heart hurt can never be explained or put into words. But what I can say, is this...
Miscarriage is such a taboo topic. And although my first miscarriage was many years ago, I still feel it isn't talked about enough. I often think about how much I suffered; emotionally, physically and mentally during that time. I think about how it changed me, changed us, and how difficult it was to be around or near people who were happily pregnant or getting pregnant so easily. I wish I would have known what to expect. I wish I had better guidance in what was suppose to happen when losing a baby. But the truth is I felt so incredibly lost. And although I had an outpouring of support from my friends and family, and a man by my side that did whatever he could to make me feel comfortable; it was a very lonely time in my life.
No one knew the right words to say, everyone thought they were being helpful. Doing everything they could have to make me feel...less sad. And truly, there is nothing that could have made it better. I wanted to be pregnant, I wanted to have that baby, I wanted to carry it full term and have the pregnancy we all see on the internet...so easy, so painless, so free and happy. But I felt chained to the word miscarriage. It was now a part of me. It was a part of our journey. And at some point I had to come to grips with it.
It's not easy trying to pull yourself out of a depression after going through something like that. I leaned hard on my husband. I leaned hard on my mom. I leaned hard on my closest girl friends. I needed support and guidance in getting back to my everyday life. And it wasn't easy. The road to getting pregnant again wasn't easy either. Constantly worrying that it was never going to happen. Pacing after peeing on a stick once again, with more times than not, a negative test result. It was difficult. But we kept trying.
Here comes the sun
Dr. Becky, a psychologist, parenting guru, mom of three and author of Good Inside just recently posted a video to her Instagram account and it resonated with me. She says "Trauma isn't an event in and of itself. It's not the event itself, trauma refers to the way an event gets processed or stored or held in the body. An event can become traumatic if it's held in aloneness". Although she was speaking about traumatic events for children, it really struck a cord with me. In this case, my miscarriage happened, I had overwhelming emotions and I secluded myself, alone in a basement for two weeks. Thinking that if I was alone I could handle it. Thinking if I was alone I wouldn't bother anyone with what I was going through. Thinking if I just went through the pain and suffering by myself and cried till it didn't hurt anymore that it would go away. Thinking that being alone was the way to go through it. And when I did open up to certain people I would hear things like "well, it wasn't meant to be" or "God only gives you things that you can handle". These comments diminished me and what I was going through even more. I may have said the same things to loved ones before I knew the right thing to say myself. And although the people who said them to me were sure they were comforting me in a way they knew best, it only made me feel more lonely. No one validated my feelings and more importantly the reality of what I was going through.
Having to announce the miscarriage publicly, I know now, was a blessing in disguise. I was wrong to hold all the trauma by myself, alone. Announcing we had lost our baby was a way for the trauma of the miscarriage, that I held so deeply inside, to bloom into a safe place of connection. When those women messaged and called me to tell me their stories I no longer felt alone. I no longer felt like I couldn't go on. I went from holding trauma to holding hope. In those moments I know that there would actually be a rainbow at the end of the storm. For both myself and my husband.
Community drives comfort
If there's anything I have learned from my first miscarriage it's this, community drives comfort. Comfort in knowing you are not alone. Comfort in knowing you will get through a hard time. Comfort, a state of physical ease and freedom from pain. An alleviation of grief and stress. Encouragement, support, guidance, and a feeling that you are not alone.
My mother recently gifted me a decorative magnet with a quote on it for Christmas. It was a small stocking stuffer and it says "To the world you are a mother, but to your family you are the
world". I cried when I opened it. It took my breath away and immediately had me choked up. But when I read it, I thought of the day I had miscarried. I thought about all the pain and hardships we went through to get pregnant, another miscarriage in between having our children, and to now have our two beautiful rainbow babies. It's on my microwave (because lord knows appliances these days aren't magnetic). I look at it everyday. It's a reminder to keep moving forward, not to sit in the past. A reminder that community or having someone to lean on is important. A reminder that no matter how lonely I may have felt, to my family, I am their world.
My hope for you, the reader, and maybe a mother yourself; is to have hope. Continue to find connection and comfort in community. To never give up on your dreams, hopes and aspirations of starting a family or continuing your journey of creating one. Keep reminding yourself that everyone's journey is different, and yours is a beautiful one! There will always be a rainbow at the end of a storm.
We are all in this together...always.
xoxo
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