Hitting “publish” on this post is going to be extremely
hard. And I'm shaking as my fingers type these words. But ever since I started this blog, sharing this has weighed heavy on my
heart. It’s not going to be easy, but I feel lead to share…
Initially, let me just say, I am not posting this for
attention. I am not posting this so people feel bad for me, or show my pity. I
have grieved. And yes, I still have my moments of grieving. But enough time has
passed and instead of grieving I choose to celebrate this moment of my life.
This was truly a turning point in my life and in my walk with God. So, I’m
posting this because I want to help other women who have gone through this too,
or for women who may go through this in the future. I wish I had known about
posts like this when I was at my ultimate low. I know they were out there, I
just hadn’t found them. So here is another to add to the bunch. If it helps
just one woman, I’ve done my job.
December 13th… To most people this is just another
day on their calendar. Nothing significant. Nothing special. But to me it is.
Today, two years ago, was my first baby’s due date. Yes, today, my first baby should
be turning two years old…
We were newlyweds. We had a plan. But God has other plans.
Bigger plans.
Two months after our wedding. I knew something was up. I
didn’t feel like myself. On a Saturday morning, just an hour before I was
supposed to head into work I took a pregnancy test. And there they were. Those
two little lines.
Shocked. Scared. Confused.
This was not the plan. We had only been married two months.
We were not ready for a baby.
But inside my belly, a tiny little human was forming. God
put him/her there for a reason. I just did not know why yet…
As a woman, after the shock settled, I quickly became
excited about the idea of being pregnant. Of course this was not how I wanted
it to go, but I had always dreamed of being a mommy. It was just happening a
little faster than I had wanted it to. Ok, a lot faster. Like years faster. But
my tears and fear, quickly turned to smiles and joy. And within days I was
picking out baby names…
But for men, it takes time. Babies aren’t formed in their
bellies after all. That immediate instinct of love just isn’t there. And it was
hard for my husband to accept this new normal. As to be expected.
Still, life went on. We told close family, but that was it.
We’d wait until the end of the first trimester to announce our news to the
world. I continued to work. John was in the process of changing jobs. Life was
going to be okay.
But in the blink of an eye, everything changed.
April 29, 2014. I was 7 ½ weeks. My first ultrasound was just
days away… The reality that I was going to be a mom had completely sunk in at
this point. And I was happy as can be! John was also slowly warming up to the
idea. And we were finally at a good place. Both of us. Together.
It was evening. I had had a very long, stressful day at
work. I was working in the city for a design firm. Commuting 3+ hours a day. I
was exhausted. Very nauseous, as my morning sickness was very severe with this
pregnancy. I went to the bathroom and saw spotting. Immediately I started to
freak out. I told John and sat on my phone the rest of the evening googling if
this was normal. (I have learned since to never do this, as it just leads to
more anxiety and does not help one bit!)
I went to bed, but could not close my eyes. I had
consistently been spotting all evening. It was not stopping. I tried to keep my
thoughts positive, but it was impossible to stop the negatives… Am I going to
lose my baby? I couldn’t help but think it. I think deep down I just knew, but
I couldn’t bear the thought of it.
Then the cramps started.. That’s when I really knew
something was not right. I went into the living room and laid on the couch. And
I cried. Tears from the pain. Tears from the reality that was settling in my
head. I think I’m losing my baby…Our baby
But I did not give up hope. Even when the bleeding was at its
heaviest and the pain was at its worst. I never once gave up hope that my baby
was still alive. Safe inside my belly. I prayed, and prayed with all my heart
that my baby was going to be okay.
Morning came. We had barely slept. But John had to go to
work. It was only his 3rd day on his new job. We had no choice. He had
to go. We called my mom at 5am and she came and sat with me. We called the Dr.
around 6am and got an appointment at 12pm. And we waited. Some of the longest
hours of my life. I laid on the couch, the pain coming and going. I did not
realize it at the time, but I was having contractions. It was as if I was in
labor. I was in labor. My body was delivering my 7 ½ week baby. And I can say
now that I have gone through labor to deliver my son. Both felt the same. But
at least when I was in labor with my son, I knew there was a prize at the end
of the painful road. But on this day, all I’d be left with was an empty belly
and an even emptier heart.
But still, I never
once gave up hope.
April 30, 2014. 11am.
We got in the car to go to the doctor. “Overcomer” by Mandisa came on the
radio. I clearly remember singing along. God, your timing is perfect…
“Everybody’s been
down, hit the bottom hit the ground. You’re not alone. Just take a breath,
don’t forget. Hang on to His promises. He wants you to know. You’re an
Overcomer. Stay in the fight till the final round. You’re not going under.
Cause God is holding you right now. You might be down for a moment. Feeling
like it’s hopeless. But that’s when He reminds you. You’re an Overcomer.”
I was down. I was at my ultimate low. But God was holding
me. No matter what happened at my appointment. It was God’s plan all along. And
that comforted me. It kept me calm during the biggest storm in my life.
We got in quick. They put us in the ultrasound room. And there
I sat, next to the ultrasound machine. Hoping. Praying. This was not how I had
envisioned my first ever ultrasound going. The doctor came in. Said some
comforting words. And then he checked me. I saw his face. And in that moment I
knew. I had lost my baby. I looked at my mom. I looked at the doctor. And
that’s when he said the words I had been dreading all night long…
“It’s passing. Your baby is right here. You’re miscarrying”
And I wept. Tears knowing I was no longer going to be a mom.
Tears knowing my baby that I had already fallen in love with in just these few
short weeks was gone. Tears because I’d never be able to meet him/her. See
their face. Kiss their cheeks. I felt numb. Empty.
At the same time though, I felt relief. I had an answer. It
was finished. All night long I had wondered what was happening. And now I knew.
My doctor still did an ultrasound to check to see if there
was anything left of the baby inside me. There was not. My womb was empty. And
so was my heart.
Those next few days were very
rough, to say the least. Some of the roughest of my life. I laid there, on my
parents couch. Still in physical pain, but even more so emotional. I had no
desire to move. I was depressed. I was at my ultimate low. Nothing mattered.
The shock was still too new. I was still grasping the fact that I was no longer
going to be a mom.
Why me? Why my baby? We had just
finally gotten over the shock that we were actually having a baby. We were
excited. And just like that our baby was taken away.
The emotion came in waves.
Sometimes I was okay. And other times I felt like my heart had just been ripped
out of my chest. And I’d cry. There aren’t too many times in my life where I
can say I truly cried. Of course I shed tears often, but I mean really cry. The
kind of cry where you feel it deep in your soul. Where your heart just aches.
This cry physically hurts. And you can’t control it at all. Nothing and no one
can comfort you. It’s the most awful feeling in the world.
We spent that first night at my
parents’ house, because I couldn’t go back home. I couldn’t go back to the
place where I lost my baby. Seeing all the reminders of the night that had just
passed. I couldn’t bear the thought of it. So John graciously let us stay. And
I can remember lying next to him on my parents’ living room floor. The emotions
still so raw and in an instant they swept over me and I cried that true cry.
And he held me. He put his arms around me and we laid there, together. Just the
two of us. And oh how I wished it were three. That was the moment it completely
hit me. It was no longer three of us. It was only two. And I felt empty. A
shell of the person I had been just a day ago. I can still recall that feeling
to this day. And every time I think about it, I have to hold back tears. My
baby was gone. And in that moment, even John’s loving arms could not comfort
me. My soul ached for my child. My child that I would never get to meet.
Still, life went on.
It has a way of doing that, but even weeks after I still did not feel
like myself. I felt empty. It’s a strange thing, pregnancy. At only 7 ½ weeks,
I could not feel my baby move. I had zero belly. But somehow I felt full.
Fuller than I had ever felt before. My little pea-sized baby was growing in my
belly and we already had a connection. A mother-child connection. So beautiful.
A miracle. Truly a gift from God. And of course, I wanted to feel that
connection again. And soon.
That was my first question, after the doctor finished my
ultrasound.
“How soon can I get pregnant again?”
He advised we wait 2 months. Just to make sure my body had
time to clear everything out and heal.
Okay… So the end of June. Which means I could potentially
have another baby next April. There was
no waiting in my mind.. But that thought calmed me. It gave me hope. Hope for
the future. I now wanted to start a family more than ever. My baby fever was officially
at an all-time high..
But we needed time. Yes, that thought comforted me in the
moment, but after multiple (and I mean MULTIPLE) conversations with John, WE
decided it would be best to wait a little longer. We needed time to heal. Our
first 3 months of marriage had been challenging to say the least. First, we got
well, married. That’s hard enough. Living with a new person, in a new place.
Second, we both had just started multiple new jobs. Third, John lost his
mother, my new mother-in-law, a month after we were married. She had been
fighting a tough battle with cancer for a few years and we were just blessed
she was able to attend our wedding. Fourth, we found out we were having a baby
just a couple weeks after her funeral. Fifth, one month later we found out we
lost our baby. Trial, after trial, after trial. We were emotionally drained to
say the least. So we needed time. Time to heal from all we had lost. Time to
actually enjoy all we had gained. Time to enjoy being a couple. Learn about
each other. Learn about marriage. Live a somewhat normal, peaceful life for at
least a little while before adding another person to our family.
And yes I still had my moments (many moments) of tears.
Lying on our bed. Sobbing that I wanted to be a mother and I couldn’t wait a
moment longer. But now that I’ve been through that time I can honestly say I’m
glad we waited. I was not emotionally ready. I needed that time, as hard as it
was. And through it I learned a very valuable lesson.. Wives, listen to your
husbands. God placed them as the head of your relationship for a reason. No
it’s not easy, but you will be blessed by it. My husband is a wise man.
And here we are. Almost three years later and God has
blessed our family so richly, sometimes I cannot even believe it. To think
where we were just a couple years ago and where we are now. It is unbelievable.
I do not deserve this life!
There’s a saying. I don’t know the exact words, but it goes
something like “After every storm, there is new life” Well…
On January 22, 2015 (John’s Birthday!) we found out we were
pregnant with our SECOND child. When that pregnancy test showed up positive I
fell to my knees and wept. God is so good. His timing is perfect. His blessings
are ever flowing! And today I am a mommy to a beautiful boy. My little, Luca
John.
But I truly believe, even before my precious Luca was born,
that I was already a mommy. That little pea-sized baby, who would now be two
years old and running around my house, is still just as much my baby as my son,
who is sleeping peacefully in his crib while I write this now. I don’t care
what people say about whether or not a baby is truly a baby until it takes its
first breath. That little ball of cells was my child. No, I never got to hear
his/her heartbeat, but I know with all my heart it was there. I am just as much
that baby’s mommy as I am Luca’s. The love I felt and still feel for that baby
is the same. How can anyone tell me differently? That baby was my baby the
moment he or she was conceived. And although I only carried him or her for a
short while, I will carry that baby in my heart forever.
So I am writing this first of all as a testimony to God’s
grace. Yes, it would be very easy to look back on this trial in my life and be
mad at God. He is the one who took my baby’s life after all. But he is also the
one who gave that baby life. He gave Luca life. He gave me life. He gives us all
life. Without Him, we would be nothing.
“The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the
name of the Lord.” Job 1:21b
So I choose to thank God in ALL things and bless his holy
name. Not just in the good times, but also in the trials. And I choose to never
take for granted all the blessing he has given me. I need to remind myself of
this more. And I choose to look at my trials in a positive light as best I can
and see them as blessings. Because, if I had carried that baby full term, yes I
would have that baby, but it would not be my Luca John that I hold today. We
need to try to see that there is good in all things. Because He is Good!
So I am writing this to encourage those who may be going
through the same thing right now, who have gone through the same thing in the
past, or who may go through something like this in the future. You are not
alone!
Before I miscarried, I knew that miscarriages happen,
obviously. But what I didn’t know is how common they are. My doctor told me
that close to 80% of all first pregnancies end in miscarriage! 80%! A lot of
women don’t know they are miscarrying because it happens so early in the
pregnancy, but some, like mine, happen later. Also, about 25% of all
pregnancies, no matter what the number, end in a miscarriage! These statistics
blew my mind! They didn’t seem real. And it wasn’t until weeks after my own
miscarriage that I realized why these numbers seemed false. It’s because
miscarriage is not talked about nearly as much as it happens. Why do you think
everyone waits to announce their pregnancy until after the first trimester?
Because their risk for miscarriage drops significantly. What I don’t understand
is why everyone keeps their early pregnancy a secret? If the first trimester is the most fragile and
scariest part of the pregnancy, why do we keep it hidden? This is the point in
pregnancy where the woman and her child need to be lifted up most! Not only
because of the risk of early pregnancy, but if a woman has morning sickness
this is when it’s at its worst! We need to be praying for and encouraging women
at this point in their pregnancy, but how can we do that if it is all a secret.
We can’t.
And if a woman ends up miscarrying her child, why must that
be all hush hush as well? I can say this, because I have gone through both:
miscarriage feels exactly the same as losing a loved one. Because you are
losing a loved one. Yes, a loved one you have only known for a very short
while, but a loved one just the same.
Over the past two years, I’ve had many conversations about
this topic with different women. Every single time I am completely shocked when
I come to find out that they have suffered a miscarriage in their lifetime, if
not multiple miscarriages. And I, as well as the rest of the world never knew. Miscarriage
is much more common than we all realize and my hope and prayer is that someday
it would not be looked at as a trial in our lives that needs to be kept secret,
but rather a trial that was made easier by prayer and encouragement from
others. But this can’t happen unless we open the door and allow ourselves to be
more transparent. Don’t be embarrassed. Use your experiences to help others and
give God the glory for getting you through.
I have noticed recently, the door opening slightly. Women
are being more open about their miscarrying experiences. Again, like I said in
the beginning… Not to get attention, but to show other women that they are not
alone. And this is my hope..
My hope is that this post can reach the eyes of many women
who have experienced this trial or who will experience this trial in the
future. May it open the door just a little further. May it show us that, yes,
God gives us trials, but we can overcome them. We are given every trial for a
reason and God will always be there, holding us and guiding us through.
"Give thanks to the Lord for He is good! For His steadfast love endures forever!” Psalm 118:29
