To You...The One In Four

I am going to be raw. I am going to be honest. Because the truth is, one of you have gone through this or you know someone that has.

I had a miscarriage last week.

Miscarriage. One in four pregnancies result in a miscarriage... and yet no one is talking about it. Maybe we aren't talking about it, because we didn't know we were pregnant, and we thought it was our period. Maybe some of us are ashamed or don't want to disappoint others. Maybe some of us are private about this kind of thing. Wearing pads is definitely not a sexy topic. Maybe some of us are so disappointed and heartbroken, that it is too painful to talk about. 

My friend, I will speak for you today.

_____

We arrived home from one of our recent adventures, and I immediately ran to the store to get groceries. I had noticed that my period was not normal this go around so I decided to get a box of pregnancy tests. Of course I tried to save money and got the cheaper ones... do not do that! Just get the dang digital ones, because you will end up buying them anyways. I came home to take the test, knowing good and well that it would be negative. There was no way it could be positive yet, because we weren't even trying.

Faded Positive 

Ok... there were a million thoughts that went through my head. Could I be a good mom to two children now? This wasn't really "my" timing so I wasn't really expecting this. Were we ready for this? What were we thinking? Oh gosh, what do we say to our two year old? Will she feel loved? Will she know how much we love her when another little one comes in this house?

Everything I was thinking was fear based, and perfectly normal I think for any mother who is expecting another little one. After some time, my emotion went from fear to acceptance which brought about excitement. I was excited to tell our family. I was excited to see my first born become the best big sister. I was excited that my husband was overwhelmed with anticipation, with being a new dad again. I very quickly told myself that this may very well be our last pregnancy, so I wanted to treasure each moment and enjoy it as much as I could. No more fear based crap or self doubt. I felt the pregnancy symptoms again...the bloated belly, (which was poking out quicker than I anticipated) sore boobs, and lots of snacking. I was ready for it all.

One day I woke up and my back was so sore, and I wondered if it was from pushing too hard on my burpees I had done the day before. I sat on the toilet, as my potty training toddler sat on hers, and I looked down to find a bright streak of red on my toilet paper. Immediately, I was uneasy and nervous. I googled all the symptoms of a miscarriage, and called my husband to make sure he was coming home from the fire station. Throughout the day I continued to bleed and my back continued to ache, and in the back of my head I knew this was it. My husband tried to remain optimistic and positive that all would be well, but you know what they say about a mother's intuition. 

We decided to tell our parents that we were pregnant, but to be honest I felt so fake. I felt horrible watching them light up with excitement, but then quickly follow up with news, that I would need to be checked for the bleeding. Later that night, while in the bathroom, I called my husband in. The amount of blood and tissue that we saw made us both speechless. I think we both knew in that moment that this was a miscarriage. For my mama friends who have been through this you know this moment. The moment where you don't need a doctor's confirmation. Your heart sinking confirms enough. My "pregnancy symptoms" immediately going away, confirmed I was losing a life. If you are early on in your pregnancy, you realize there is absolutely nothing you can do in this moment. 

There is a precious life dying inside of you. A life that you may be planning for. A precious little one that you started to journal to. A life that you told your other children about. This life dying wasn't by your choice, and you would give anything to make it stop...but you can't. Mama, I see you. I now know that pain and its not a fun club to be in, is it? All we could do was try to get in the doctor's office as quickly as we could. 

We arrived at the doctor's office and of course on this day...I see so many people that I know. All I could do was fake a smile and have an "oh the weather is nice" conversation. And it hurt so bad to see women with their gorgeous bellies walking in. Sitting in the room, we could hear the heartbeats of these sweet souls in the rooms next door. I sat there knowing that the life inside of me was bleeding out. It hurt, because this place became my happy place whenever my daughter was born. My husband and I looked forward to every doctor's appointment. On this day I felt so out of place. That is not saying anything negative in regards to our nurses or midwives - they are literally a godsend. It was my sadness and disappointment that made me feel out of place. 

My midwife (mad respect for this woman) explained to me that this happens more than people talk about. That one in four of all pregnancies will result in a miscarriage. But most of us either don't know, or don't want to talk about it. My urine test came back that I was still "technically pregnant, and they wanted to check my hormone level in my blood. That was the sad part - I was still pregnant, but I had to wait. Wait for a little life to diminish on its own and let death take place inside of me, or check my blood to see if possibly the baby could survive. Let the waiting game begin.

I am the type of person who needs a definite YES or NO to things. This was not a definite YES or NO situation. I couldn't process anything just yet... I could only wait. After watching the time pass, I knew I wouldn't hear anything that day, because it was after hours at my doctors office, and she said she would call probably the next day. Then my midwife called (told you I had mad respect for her). My hormone levels were very low... in the double digits instead of the triple (where they should have been). I was miscarrying. I knew this all along, but it still felt like shit to hear it again. 

Over the last week, I kept telling myself once the bleeding stopped, maybe it wouldn't serve as a constant reminder about the life that would not come. I needed moments to step aside and be quiet, still and alone. I was able to find my strength by slowing down... way down. I needed to talk so that I could process it all. My Mama friends, if you have gone through this (no matter how many times), I am here to say to you that this absolutely does suck. This is hurtful. This makes me upset for you. I know that when you tell someone, the mood changes in the room, and its awkward because people don't know what they are supposed to say. You will question what it was that you did? You didn't do anything. We may never know why these situations arise in our lives. Does it happen to teach us something? Does it happen to make us stop and truly value every God given life? 

I thought about what was the reasoning for this not so pleasant moment in my life... I didn't ask for this. Of course most people don't ask for a miscarriage, and we never think it will happen to us, right?  Was it to bring my husband and I much closer together, and to understand each other on a completely different emotional level? To continue to treasure my time with my sweet family? Bring our family closer together? Remind me of my priorities in this life? Remind me to slow down and put the phone down from time to time? Invite me to take a moment to myself for renewal of the mind and body? 

Or was it to talk to you? You, the one in four who are going through this. You, the one in four who will experience this sadness and pain. You, the one in four who don't want to say it out loud.

I get you, and I understand. Take your moments, however many you need, to process it all and gather your strength. In the movie Moana (its a favorite of mine), she quotes "Sometimes our strengths lie beneath the surface". It will take time to find your strength, but it will surface my friend. You won't forget about this precious life, but instead you will be so full of gratitude when your time comes.

Believe it will come.