Through The Blur (P2)

I was 12 weeks pregnant and was going to hear my baby's heartbeat for the first time. The decision to have a baby was an easy one. We got pregnant right away, which surprised the hell out of both of us. We were thrilled! I did everything right from the beginning. I started taking prenatal vitamins, stopped drinking alcohol, started eating healthier, drinking a ton of water, and exercising more regularly. I've always been a healthy person, so it wasn't a giant shift in my lifestyle. I didn't think I had anything to worry about. I had seen the baby once already and everything looked good. I kept the initial ultrasound picture up in my bedroom and looked at it often. I was really excited and a little scared at the same time. Was I ready to be a parent? Here I was prego for the first time heading into my second trimester. 

My husband was in Iceland planning wedding #2 (the one with both families). The wedding was two weeks away and I was busy getting my dress tailored to fit my growing belly, preparing to travel while pregnant, and writing my vows. I went to my doctor's appointment alone without any concerns. While waiting to see my doctor, I became uneasy. I'm generally not a worrier, but something felt different this time. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I could sense something was about to happen. When the doctor came in we chatted for a while; I told her everything seemed fine. I was still having some nausea, but wasn't feeling awful. When the time came to check the heartbeat, I became overwhelmed with anxiety and I did what I normally do. I checked myself and took a deep breath. Everything was going to be okay.

The doctor started searching for the heartbeat, "sometimes it takes a minute," she said rolling the doppler around my belly. She adjusted the instrument and tried again... Silence. She checked again and furrowed her brow. "Let me get the ultrasound," she said quickly and shuffled into the hallway. I started to panic; my heart started racing. I started cycling through thoughts and thinking of potential alternatives to the worst outcome. Maybe the machine is broken... Maybe baby is just sitting too far back... It's going to be fine. The doctor returned with the ultrasound and began searching. It didn't take long, she found baby right away. 

I'm generally a levelheaded person. I've worked hard over the years to learn good coping skills and reign in anxiety. I try to think rationally about something before I jump into an emotional reaction. When I saw the picture of my baby, I told myself to chill out and wait. The baby was small, no change in size from the previous ultrasound and no apparent heartbeat. The babe looked like a little raisin, curled up…hiding. The rational part of my brain knew baby was gone; the new mommy part was terrified and hoping for the best. My doctor wanted a second opinion and sent me for another ultrasound to get a closer look. As I walked to the other side of the building I became more and more aware of what was happening. I tried to call my husband who was with his family in Reykjavik. I got in touch with him and all I could say was, "something’s wrong with baby," before I lost the signal. He tried to call but the signal wasn't great, so I sent him a message outlining what was happening. Poor guy was helpless.

The ultrasound confirmed baby was gone. No heartbeat, no growth... I was alone. My doctor sat with me for a while, offering resources and a hug. I was in shock. We decided to schedule a D&C one week before my flight to Iceland (for those of you who don't know, a Dilation and Curettage is a brief surgical procedure in which the cervix is dilated and a special instrument is used to scrape the uterine lining). This was a total nightmare. What was I going to do? How would I tell my husband? What would I tell my family? What would I tell my friends? What was I going to do? I was in a foreign and unexpected situation and I was completely shattered.

The next few days were a blur and, honestly, I don't remember much. I eventually got in touch with my husband and we decided that he'd stay in Iceland (I regret this, I needed him here). We cried to together over the phone and said what we could to comfort each other. The shame and guilt was overwhelming. I had spent three months preparing to meet this person, taking care of myself, getting ready for parenthood. I felt useless and broken. I kept imagining baby alone in the darkness. I couldn't provide any comfort, I couldn't hold it or provide the love I felt it needed.  The doctor assured me that there was nothing I could have done. She went over statistics and possible causes. I heard her to an extent but overall I couldn't accept it. It was my responsibility to keep my baby safe. One night, a wave of despair came over me while heading upstairs to bed. I crumbled in the stairwell gasping for air holding my belly. I kept saying I was sorry, hoping baby's spirit would forgive me. When I managed to get to bed I laid there trying to manifest an image of this person I would never meet. I didn't know if it was a boy or a girl, if it looked more like my husband or myself. I didn't have anything tangible to attach my grief too. Eventually I fell asleep, dreaming of a little girl with curly red hair, running though a grassy field… smiling.

The day came for my D&C. Two friends accompanied me to my appointment, which went well without any problems. When I woke up in recovery, a sweet male nurse was sitting next to me. I realized the baby was gone and immediately felt empty. I grabbed his hand and he held mine while I wept quietly. I was grateful for the kindness and silence. My friends took me home and took care of me for the days following (I will forever be grateful to my friends who were so loving and patient with me). I started preparing myself for how I would process my grief and get through my wedding. I knew it was going to be rough, but life had to go on.

In retrospect, all of this couldn't have happened at a better time. 2 weeks after the miscarriage I was in Iceland celebrating the love of my life. Upon my arrival to Iceland, my husband and I decided to take a few hours to say goodbye. My hormones were still adjusting and tears would come and go. We ended up going to a local cemetery and said goodbye to baby. We needed closure and found it there after sharing a long walk and tears. The following 2 weeks were full of various events and celebrations. My family met my husband's family. We ate tons of good food and traveled around together. I went to a local seamstress who did an excellent job fixing my wedding dress in a matter of days before my wedding. She ended up doing it for free. Everyone pitched in to prepare for the wedding and take the stress off my shoulders. I got up each day thinking about my vows. They had to change due to my pregnancy being a main theme.  When the time came, I just made them up on the spot (and did a pretty good job I have to say). The wedding was beautiful and perfect. My whole family and a few friends flew over from the US, which meant the world to me. I just felt an overwhelming sense of love and family. It was everything I needed.

The following 6 months were rough, but I was stronger. I would go on to have another miscarriage with my next pregnancy. It happened earlier and involved no medical intervention. From the first to the second miscarriage, I shared my story with others. There were several moments of quiet sadness. The more women I told the more I understood I wasn’t alone. Several women in my family, close friends, colleagues had gone through the same experience. I hate to say it, but it made me feel better. I started to feel like I joined a secret sisterhood that no one wanted to be a part of. I understand why no one wants to talk about it. No one wants to relive that nightmare. But, as someone who went through it and didn’t know how prevalent it was, I was thankful to those women who shared their stories. It got me through some difficult moments and to where I am today. I guess that's why I'm sharing my story now.  My heart aches for my lost children and it was the most difficult time of my life, but I want you to know everything WILL be okay. It will.

I wish I could tell you that life is easy, but I think we all know that's a load of whatever. Don't get me wrong, life is full of many wonderful things. This blog series is supposed to be a testimony to that. I found the love of my life after walking a long self-destructive road. I learned that getting pregnant and staying pregnant is a miracle!! It really is. The journey to becoming a family can sometimes be rough, but more often than not, the light eventually overcomes the darkness and your heart is overflowing with happiness. You just have to find your way.

Be well!