“When you can tell your story without crying, you know you have healed”. I was going to wait to write the second chapter of our miscarriage story because the first chapter drained me so much, but I need to write it all out and get it out there. In the last blog, you read about the first four miscarriages that we suffered through. This blog entry will discuss the last two miscarriages. All of them were painfully difficult but the 5th one was probably the worst one, both emotionally and physically. It was literally the worst thing I have ever had to endure. I’ve never been able to tell the story without crying and I don’t know if I ever will.
After we had our second son together, Joe and I knew we were done trying to have children. We didn’t have any more room in our house or our car. We were old and tired and sure didn’t want to be getting up for middle of the night feedings anymore. So what did we do? We got pregnant. Ooops! Yes, we are very well aware of how babies are made but we were using the full proof method of the pull out method (too much info? Sorry.) I think we truly believed that since we had decided we were done having children, our bodies would just know to stop being fertile. (palm to face). Ok, so turns out that this wasn’t a full proof method. I had actually just started coming out of the dark from having my last baby. I was out of solitary confinement (not nursing anymore) and was able to have a little bit of free time to myself. My colleague and I were just starting to go on runs together again. It was wonderful. Then one day, after a particularly long run, I was absolutely insatiable. I was eating everything in sight but chalked it up to the long run and PMS. I thought the fact that I was gaining weight was PMS as well. If you remember from my last blog entry, in ALL of my last pregnancies, I knew almost instantly when I was pregnant. I knew before a test could tell me I was pregnant. Not this time. You’re probably asking yourself “well, was your period late?” Um, yes, yes it was. But remember, I had only stopped nursing for a few months and was still getting into a regular cycle. I happened to have a pregnancy test left over from the last time I was pregnant (I kind of hoarded them during my last pregnancy because I wanted to make sure I was still pregnant). So I randomly took it. As you can guess, I was pregnant. I did the calculations and figured out that I was five weeks pregnant. This is usually the time I would have lost a pregnancy. I instantly texted my friend (who had also gone through a miscarriage the same time I had). Don’t worry, I also called Joe. We were in shock. What does this mean? If we hadn’t lost it by now, then we were in the clear, right? Wait! We’re going to have four children?! Who does that?! Party of six?! Where would this new baby sleep? We were out of rooms. We needed a bigger car. I had just gotten rid of my maternity clothes. We were spinning.
Because of my history, my doctor wanted to see me immediately. We held off on making any plans. Kind of. I bought pregnancy clothes and Joe started looking at bigger cars. I told him to hold off till we saw a heart-beat. We went to the doctor to confirm the pregnancy. Yup, I was pregnant. Too early for a heartbeat though. My doctor wanted to see me a couple weeks later to make sure the pregnancy was going well. A few days later, Joe surprised me with a new huge ass car. I’m probably the only person alive that would get mad about someone buying them a car. I just wanted to make sure we saw a heartbeat first. I was still scared. We went to the doctor for our follow up appointment. He was quiet when he was looking at the screen. Everyone who has ever been to a doctor knows that this is not good. He said the baby hadn’t grown as much as he had anticipated but that didn’t mean anything at this point. Really?! It doesn’t mean anything?! You’re telling that to someone who’s already been through 4 previous miscarriages?! He said to come back in a few days and we would look at the growth again. (I seriously just texted my husband to bring me the wine bottle to me. In bed. Don’t worry, it’s almost empty). So we anxiously awaited the next appointment. We went in and took another look at the baby. The doctor was relieved to see that the baby had grown and he wasn’t concerned anymore. Good Lord!!! Joe and I about passed out in the room. Ok, we’re back on track. We made another appointment for a couple weeks later. We started to relax a little and embracing the fact that we were going to be a family of six and that our lives were going to be pretty chaotic. We told a few more people. I started popping out a little and ordered more maternity clothes. I signed up for the pregnancy tracker app again so I could track how big my baby was each week. October 18th. I was ten weeks. I was at work, teaching. I went to the bathroom and noticed a little bit of spotting. Spotting can be normal, right? I called my doctor. They wanted me to come in immediately. I told them I was teaching and would come in after work. I thought it was just a little bit of spotting, it couldn’t be bad. Joe couldn’t make it, the one and only appointment he has ever missed. I told him it was fine because I didn’t think it was anything bad. They immediately brought me back to the room. The doctor started the ultrasound. Again, he was quiet. He kept moving that wand around, searching for a heartbeat. He looked at me and said there wasn’t a heartbeat. My first thought was “try a different machine, this one is obviously broken”. He gave me some tissue and told me to come to his office. I tried calling Joe but he didn’t answer. I went to the doctor’s office. He had seen me through so many miscarriages already. He explained to me my options. I could let it happen naturally or I could schedule a D&C. Here’s what I knew for sure. I knew the pain of the previous miscarriages, and those had been a lot earlier on. If that was painful, how painful would a 10 week miscarriage be? I knew that I couldn’t go to work and teach, just waiting for a miscarriage to start. How was I supposed to teach like that? How was I supposed to live like that, waiting? And honestly, I knew what the early miscarriages looked like and I couldn’t even imagine what this would look like. I just couldn’t do it. I told him to schedule the next possible procedure. Joe called. I tried talking to him through tears but the phone cut out. I scheduled the appointment for the next day. The doctor gave me a pill to “help the process along” I couldn’t even think. I was in a complete daze. I checked out of the office, the receptionist giving me that “I’m so sorry” look. I made it to my car and burst into tears and called Joe. I explained to him what had happened. I told him that I had scheduled a D&C and apologized because I thought I was taking the easy way out but I just couldn’t go through another one. I don’t really remember what happened that night. I know I immediately went to my bed and researched D&C. I swallowed that damn pill. I knew exactly what it was doing and I could feel it tearing me apart.
The next day I went to the surgery center. They took me to the prep area and I cried the entire time. My doctor came and talked to me. Joe held my hand the entire time until the wheeled me to the operating room. I remember everything about that room. I remember everything about the room I was in when I woke up. I immediately started bawling uncontrollably and begged to see Joe. Side note, you know you’ve found your person when you wake up from surgery and the first words out of your mouth is his name. It’s not when you’re saying your vows or when you are in the delivery room, those are the good times. It’s when you are at your worst and the only person you want to turn to is that person. The nurse left and got him for me as well as a cup of coffee. The weird part,that was the best damn cup of coffee I’ve ever had. Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe I just needed something warm. But I still remember that cup of coffee. And I still remember the excruciating pain. Physical and emotional. Joe took me home in that big ass car. The big ass car we didn’t need anymore. The physical recovery wasn’t as quick as I had hoped. I had heard I could go back to work the next day but I couldn’t even drive at that point. I stayed in bed. The emotional recovery is still ongoing. Do I think about it every day? Not usually. But I still can’t tell the story without crying.
What about the sixth and last miscarriage? Yes, we did get pregnant again. Yes, you would think we would learn. The last pregnancy was another chemical pregnancy. It didn’t hit me as hard as the previous one. Maybe I knew it wouldn’t last. Maybe I knew not to get attached or my hopes high. Maybe I just have too much armor up at this point. What happened to that box of maternity clothes I had ordered before my fifth miscarriage? They sat in the corner of my room for two years. Yes, two years. I didn’t know what to do with them. Eventually, I gave it to Joe and told him to do something with it. I still have that big ass car. There are days I don’t even think about why we have such a big car. And then there are days that I can’t forget. Joe has offered to trade it in but that just seems like a waste to me. And don’t worry, Joe and I have learned how fertile we are and Joe put our frozen peas to good use a few months ago.
I'm an average girl who has discovered her passion for self-development after warrioring (yes, it's a word) through 6 miscarriages. I took that passion and applied it to helping others find their passions through High Performance Coaching. Boy mom to two "energetic boys" and navigating the art of being a step mom to a teenage girl, all while working daily on maintaining an authentic relationship with the best husband around. Sometimes mindful. Sometimes a runner. Always a little crazy!