This site is a work in progress. I have asked several of my friends to share their stories, and I am still waiting to receive them.. However, if you also would like to share your story to encourage others, please send me an email. I pray that many will be encouraged through this blog.
Please see the right column of this blog under "Her Story" for the stories added so far.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Chrissy's Story (Missed Miscarriage-11.5 weeks)
MY STORY (missed miscarriage):
Due to medical problems, I did not know if I would even be able to get pregnant and fully expected it to take a long time if I was able to get pregnant at all. Imagine mine and my husband’s shock when I was pregnant after just a few months of trying! I stayed up all night after taking four or so pregnancy tests just to be sure. I was so excited I couldn’t sleep. From the very beginning though I had problems. I had spotting daily and thought it was due to exercise so I cut that out and just rested as much as possible. We told our parents, but no one else --just because I wanted to wait until we got to the three month mark. I had pretty bad cramping so I called the doctor and we went in to have an ultrasound to be sure everything looked okay. We saw the baby’s heart beat and everything seemed to be fine. I was still scared. I had the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I saw the spotting, but the doctor said it was fine, so I tried not to worry so much. I am a bit of a worrier anyway, so that was hard to do! I had a checkup at about eight weeks and had another ultrasound performed which again showed that everything looked great. The heart beat was there and the doctor told me that it was rare for anything to happen after a heart beat was seen (and we had seen it twice). I finally began to breathe a little easier. We were getting close to the 12 week mark and I thought if I could just hold in there, everything would be okay. I prayed so much that God would take care of my baby, but I just could not let go of the worry and trust solely in Him to take care of me and the baby. I had not been sick one time and thought, well this is great! What a piece of cake this is going to be! Then on Sunday, just a few days before my 12 week appointment, I went to the bathroom at church because I had this crampy feeling and there was blood--bright red blood. I was terrified. I decided to rest the next two days because that is what the doctor had said to do previously. On the third day, the bleeding got worse, so I called the doctor and they said I had better come in and have an ultrasound done again to see what the problem was. I was crying so hard. I was so scared. On top of this, it was my birthday. Surely nothing bad would happen on my birthday. Birthdays are happy days, right? Matt and I went to the radiologist’s office and the technician did the ultrasound and didn’t say a word. I felt sick. I know they are not supposed to say anything, but something would have been nice--anything comforting; silence is terrible. I asked at the end if she saw a heartbeat and she said, no, she didn’t, but she would have someone else review it. When she came back, she said the doctor would want to see me upstairs. My world fell apart. This didn’t happen in real life. You just hear about these things, but it doesn’t happen. I think I was crying so hard I was hyperventilating. We saw the doctor and she said that the baby was no long alive. It had only lived to around the nine week mark. It was a missed miscarriage which meant that my body still thought that I was pregnant the next two weeks and the only sign that something was wrong was the spotting. I felt sick. I had thought I was pregnant for two weeks when I was not. I thought I only had a few days to go until the 12 week mark, but had lost the baby weeks earlier. It was heart breaking. She said that it happened quite often really and the next pregnancy would probably be fine. Just another day, another patient. It was not very comforting. I felt like we were supposed to just move on and forget this baby and get started again. We had to plan a DNC and then went home. That was horrible. My body still had the baby that was no longer alive and it broke my heart. It seemed so very cruel. I did not understand why God had let such a thing happen to us. We had wanted this baby so bad. Now, to pass the time until the DNC. The day before the procedure was scheduled, I started having horrible cramps. I ended up having the miscarriage at home instead of having the procedure. I had to go to the emergency room and there was this wonderful nurse who was so sweet and understanding and her kindness meant the world to me. After that, everything was flat. I was depressed and I couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t want Matt to tell anyone because I did not want them to look at me with pity in their eyes and know they didn’t know what to say to us. I didn’t want them talking about me to their family or friends. I just wanted to hide out and try to understand why God had let this happen. Why were we even able to get pregnant just to lose the baby? I made it out of all the sadness. I started a devotional entitled, The One Year Book of Hope, by Nancy Guthrie. The author had two babies born with the same rare metabolic disorder and they both died. I can’t imagine the pain. Having a child die not just once, but twice. The book really did help me feel that maybe there was a reason for this. God has a plan and we don’t know what it is and though it breaks my heart, we will just have to wait and see. Maybe we will never know, or maybe 10 or 20 years later we will find out that we were used in some way through this that we couldn’t even imagine. So, at that point we did tell a few more people about the miscarriage and decided that we would try to be there for others if they needed to talk. I didn’t have anyone to talk to at the time who could understand my pain, but I hope that I can be there for someone else. Matt and I decided we would wait awhile before trying again to get over the emotional pain. Well, we were shocked when we learned we were pregnant two months later. This time it was so different. We weren’t all excited and bouncing all over the place. We knew too much this time. I was a nervous wreck. I refused to look forward. I still could not give my fears over to God completely. I felt like I would lose any control if I did that—although I was not in control anyway. I knew that wasn’t even logical thinking (to feel like I would lose control)! Those first 12 weeks were the scariest weeks! Our doctor had me do an ultrasound every 2 weeks for peace of mind more than anything else. We didn’t tell anyone this time until after the 12 weeks which was hard. Looking back, I needed the prayers of family and friends, so I should have asked. I tried to trust God more. I wondered if perhaps this was to teach me to trust in Him more, but I won’t lie--I was still terrified at times. Sometimes it would just overwhelm me and I was so scared. I didn’t decorate the nursery until I think …7 months. To plan was so hard. I worried about her movement as she got bigger. Here she is now, almost five months old! I still find things to worry about. SIDS, colds, et cetera. It will always be something and I know I have to work daily on being able to put my fear in God’s hands. If not, it will consume me. I do not know why God gave us Addison, but took our first baby home to be with Him. I thank Him every morning for another day with her. We are blessed beyond what we could have ever imagined. I hope that this story will be of some encouragement to someone. I hope you know that you are not the only one who is hurting so much that you don’t know if you can cry any more tears. Or that you are scared to death at times while pregnant after a miscarriage. I know the next time I am pregnant the fears will try to consume me again. I pray that I will be stronger and will be able to give my fear and worry to God and trust in Him more. Through this, I have learned to be thankful for each day with Addison. To not complain over sleeplessness and leg cramps and feeling like a whale while pregnant-just to be thankful that I was given the opportunity to feel that! When we are up 17 times a night checking on her and can’t figure out why in the world she is crying and won’t nap-I try to remember to be thankful. There was pain, but there is also joy now. I hope I am more sympathetic for others who have been in the same situation. He has shown me that He is always there. We might not understand the situation, but He is still in control. It’s hard to trust Him with everything, but I am trying. Bad things happen to everyone. God does not play favorites. I do know this; God is good…all the time. I try to remember that every day and know that He has a plan far beyond what we are able to see. I hope that someone will be encouraged through our stories here.
Due to medical problems, I did not know if I would even be able to get pregnant and fully expected it to take a long time if I was able to get pregnant at all. Imagine mine and my husband’s shock when I was pregnant after just a few months of trying! I stayed up all night after taking four or so pregnancy tests just to be sure. I was so excited I couldn’t sleep. From the very beginning though I had problems. I had spotting daily and thought it was due to exercise so I cut that out and just rested as much as possible. We told our parents, but no one else --just because I wanted to wait until we got to the three month mark. I had pretty bad cramping so I called the doctor and we went in to have an ultrasound to be sure everything looked okay. We saw the baby’s heart beat and everything seemed to be fine. I was still scared. I had the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach every time I saw the spotting, but the doctor said it was fine, so I tried not to worry so much. I am a bit of a worrier anyway, so that was hard to do! I had a checkup at about eight weeks and had another ultrasound performed which again showed that everything looked great. The heart beat was there and the doctor told me that it was rare for anything to happen after a heart beat was seen (and we had seen it twice). I finally began to breathe a little easier. We were getting close to the 12 week mark and I thought if I could just hold in there, everything would be okay. I prayed so much that God would take care of my baby, but I just could not let go of the worry and trust solely in Him to take care of me and the baby. I had not been sick one time and thought, well this is great! What a piece of cake this is going to be! Then on Sunday, just a few days before my 12 week appointment, I went to the bathroom at church because I had this crampy feeling and there was blood--bright red blood. I was terrified. I decided to rest the next two days because that is what the doctor had said to do previously. On the third day, the bleeding got worse, so I called the doctor and they said I had better come in and have an ultrasound done again to see what the problem was. I was crying so hard. I was so scared. On top of this, it was my birthday. Surely nothing bad would happen on my birthday. Birthdays are happy days, right? Matt and I went to the radiologist’s office and the technician did the ultrasound and didn’t say a word. I felt sick. I know they are not supposed to say anything, but something would have been nice--anything comforting; silence is terrible. I asked at the end if she saw a heartbeat and she said, no, she didn’t, but she would have someone else review it. When she came back, she said the doctor would want to see me upstairs. My world fell apart. This didn’t happen in real life. You just hear about these things, but it doesn’t happen. I think I was crying so hard I was hyperventilating. We saw the doctor and she said that the baby was no long alive. It had only lived to around the nine week mark. It was a missed miscarriage which meant that my body still thought that I was pregnant the next two weeks and the only sign that something was wrong was the spotting. I felt sick. I had thought I was pregnant for two weeks when I was not. I thought I only had a few days to go until the 12 week mark, but had lost the baby weeks earlier. It was heart breaking. She said that it happened quite often really and the next pregnancy would probably be fine. Just another day, another patient. It was not very comforting. I felt like we were supposed to just move on and forget this baby and get started again. We had to plan a DNC and then went home. That was horrible. My body still had the baby that was no longer alive and it broke my heart. It seemed so very cruel. I did not understand why God had let such a thing happen to us. We had wanted this baby so bad. Now, to pass the time until the DNC. The day before the procedure was scheduled, I started having horrible cramps. I ended up having the miscarriage at home instead of having the procedure. I had to go to the emergency room and there was this wonderful nurse who was so sweet and understanding and her kindness meant the world to me. After that, everything was flat. I was depressed and I couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t want Matt to tell anyone because I did not want them to look at me with pity in their eyes and know they didn’t know what to say to us. I didn’t want them talking about me to their family or friends. I just wanted to hide out and try to understand why God had let this happen. Why were we even able to get pregnant just to lose the baby? I made it out of all the sadness. I started a devotional entitled, The One Year Book of Hope, by Nancy Guthrie. The author had two babies born with the same rare metabolic disorder and they both died. I can’t imagine the pain. Having a child die not just once, but twice. The book really did help me feel that maybe there was a reason for this. God has a plan and we don’t know what it is and though it breaks my heart, we will just have to wait and see. Maybe we will never know, or maybe 10 or 20 years later we will find out that we were used in some way through this that we couldn’t even imagine. So, at that point we did tell a few more people about the miscarriage and decided that we would try to be there for others if they needed to talk. I didn’t have anyone to talk to at the time who could understand my pain, but I hope that I can be there for someone else. Matt and I decided we would wait awhile before trying again to get over the emotional pain. Well, we were shocked when we learned we were pregnant two months later. This time it was so different. We weren’t all excited and bouncing all over the place. We knew too much this time. I was a nervous wreck. I refused to look forward. I still could not give my fears over to God completely. I felt like I would lose any control if I did that—although I was not in control anyway. I knew that wasn’t even logical thinking (to feel like I would lose control)! Those first 12 weeks were the scariest weeks! Our doctor had me do an ultrasound every 2 weeks for peace of mind more than anything else. We didn’t tell anyone this time until after the 12 weeks which was hard. Looking back, I needed the prayers of family and friends, so I should have asked. I tried to trust God more. I wondered if perhaps this was to teach me to trust in Him more, but I won’t lie--I was still terrified at times. Sometimes it would just overwhelm me and I was so scared. I didn’t decorate the nursery until I think …7 months. To plan was so hard. I worried about her movement as she got bigger. Here she is now, almost five months old! I still find things to worry about. SIDS, colds, et cetera. It will always be something and I know I have to work daily on being able to put my fear in God’s hands. If not, it will consume me. I do not know why God gave us Addison, but took our first baby home to be with Him. I thank Him every morning for another day with her. We are blessed beyond what we could have ever imagined. I hope that this story will be of some encouragement to someone. I hope you know that you are not the only one who is hurting so much that you don’t know if you can cry any more tears. Or that you are scared to death at times while pregnant after a miscarriage. I know the next time I am pregnant the fears will try to consume me again. I pray that I will be stronger and will be able to give my fear and worry to God and trust in Him more. Through this, I have learned to be thankful for each day with Addison. To not complain over sleeplessness and leg cramps and feeling like a whale while pregnant-just to be thankful that I was given the opportunity to feel that! When we are up 17 times a night checking on her and can’t figure out why in the world she is crying and won’t nap-I try to remember to be thankful. There was pain, but there is also joy now. I hope I am more sympathetic for others who have been in the same situation. He has shown me that He is always there. We might not understand the situation, but He is still in control. It’s hard to trust Him with everything, but I am trying. Bad things happen to everyone. God does not play favorites. I do know this; God is good…all the time. I try to remember that every day and know that He has a plan far beyond what we are able to see. I hope that someone will be encouraged through our stories here.
Sarah's Story (Miscarriage-7 weeks)
My husband came home from a 15 month deployment to Iraq, shortly after I got pregnant. It wasn’t a huge surprise. We weren’t doing anything to stop it. We were so excited! We were hoping for a boy since we already had 2 girls. Since I wasn’t on any short of birth control, I was tracking everything. I knew when I would start my period and when I was ovulating. I knew when this baby was conceived and when my due date was. I knew for sure how far along I was.
I wasn’t in a hurry to get to the doctor, since I wouldn’t get an appointment for several more weeks. It is just the way it works in the military sometimes. And since I found out at 4 weeks, I was fine waiting a few more. It wasn’t my first and I had never had any problems before, so why would this be different?
I had reached 7 weeks. I had plans on calling the doctor for an appointment, but I had to first go to the clinic and take a urine test before they would let me make an appointment. I started spotting. I knew something was wrong.
Let me rewind a bit. Before I got pregnant, I had a feeling that the next baby I conceived, I would not get to hold. I knew that something would happen. I kept trying to brush it off, but I knew. Why I knew, I will never know.
When I started spotting, I told my husband that I thought I was losing the baby. He told me to stop thinking that something was wrong. It wasn’t that he was trying to be insensitive; he was just as scared as I was, and he didn’t want to go there in his mind.
We were at Fort Stewart for the day and since the spotting was increasing, we decided to just go to the ER on post. We waited around for awhile, called our parents, played games with the girls and then my husband went to get something to eat. I was told several times that many women bleed during their pregnancies and it was probably nothing. I knew all that. I finally got my ultrasound; it said I was 5 weeks and 6 days. My stomach sunk. I knew that was not right, I was 7 weeks. Why was it reading wrong?
The next day, I drove back out to Fort Stewart to meet with an OB. They did another ultrasound; it said I was 5 weeks and 2 days. The doctor then turned on the Doppler so she could hear the heart beat. It was weak, slower than mine. Babies have rapid heartbeats. I looked at her hoping for her to tell me what was going on. She just told me, “Well, there is a heartbeat and that means your miscarriage rate it only 80% at this point.” She grabbed the images and rushed out of the room. My heart sank. I am not stupid. I knew what was going on. I wished so badly that she would have just said, “Your baby has a weak heart rate and it probably will not survive.” To get my hopes up seemed so cruel. But still, I tried to remain positive.
The next day, I began gushing blood. I yelled for my husband who just happened to be home early from work. I told him I had to go to the ER. We got the girls to the neighbors, and I put in a clean pad. I could feel the blood coming out. I knew what was going on.
When we got here, I told the receptionist what was going on and they got me back to a room immediately. I told the doctor that I was losing my baby. I had gone over what had happened the last few days and he was trying to remain optimistic until he got blood test and the ultrasound back. When we went back for the ultrasound I told my husband what to look for on the screen because I knew the technician was not allowed to say anything. She was so sweet. My husband looked down at me and shook his head. I knew that meant there was no heartbeat (it has been a year and a half since this has happened and writing this is not easy). The tech listened to my heartbeat and said, “That is your heartbeat.” Then she listened to the babies and said, “That is not your heartbeat.” It was nothing, no sound. It was her way of letting me know what was going on and I am very thankful to her for that. It made the several hours of waiting afterwards not so tense. My husband has a good sense of humor and when we are in serious circumstances, he likes to crack jokes. He did during this time. Most people may have not wanted that, but I needed that. He did too. It helped us cope.
The doctor came in to tell us what we thought. He told me was to expect over the next few days. More blood and clots, I may feel intense pressure and then relief. My husband and I walked out hand in hand not saying much to each other. What do you say? There isn’t much. I felt I was ok and while I was sad, I thought I was getting through this ok. I hugged my girls tight that night with so much more appreciation for their life. I took the pain meds the doctor gave me and went to bed. I was probably the only one who got a good night sleep that night.
My bleeding had let up a good bit and I thought I had passed much of the baby. On the day I would have been 8 week, we went to the store. I began to feel a lot of pressure and told my husband we needed to get home. I thought I was going to pass most clots and I didn’t want to bleed through my pad. I ran up the stairs when we got home almost doubled over from the pressure and the contractions. Not realizing it, I was in labor. All of a sudden I heard a plop in the toilet and a huge relief from pain. I got up and saw my child in the toilet and scooped it out and placed it on my counter top. I called my husband in there to let him know what happened. That is when all the emotions came rushing to me. I was looking at my dead child. I didn’t think I would see it. I thought it would be smaller and I wouldn’t know I had passed it when I did. I didn’t know what to do with it so I placed it in a plastic bag. I couldn’t go into my bathroom. All I wanted to do was take my baby and curl up in my bed and hold it, let it know how much I loved it. I didn’t want to let go.
The next morning, I told my husband I didn’t want to be sad anymore. So, we skipped church. I found a small wooden box and placed the baby in there along with a Bible verse. We loaded up the girls and drove to the beach. I had to explain to them that the baby had died and gone to heaven to be with Jesus. My oldest, who was 4 at the time, asked a lot of questions and cried. Once we got the beach, we walked into the sand dunes (which you are not supposed to do) and had a small burial for our baby. We said a little prayer and laid our baby’s body to rest.
I wasn’t prepared for all the emotions I would have with losing a baby. It hurt and I didn’t understand why God had done this to me. Why did he take my baby from me? Did he not think I could handle another one? Was I not a good mother? I just didn’t understand. Many people tried to offer words of encouragement, but it didn’t help. I knew they were trying to be supportive, but it didn’t feel that way to me. “50 % of all pregnancies end in miscarriage.”, “At least, you weren’t further along.” “A friend of my sister’s cousin had a miscarriage.” “Maybe God took the baby because something was wrong with it.” Nothing helped. Unless you have been there, you just don’t understand. You can try to imagine, but you just can’t…I couldn’t have before this happened.
I quickly tried to “get over it”. Thanksgiving was around the corner and I had dinner to plan. My family was coming into town. They had asked if I was up to it and I insisted they still come. I needed them to be around. It made that time easier. My husband and I had made the decision not to have any more kids, we didn’t want to take the chance of having that happen to us again. I didn’t think I could handle the emotions. But God had other plans. Little did I know that dealing with my miscarriage would be harder once I was pregnant again.
I tried to keep myself very distant from my child. I didn’t want to fall in love with my child just to have it ripped from my hands again. I braced myself before every appointment, because I knew something would be wrong. I hated the question, “What number pregnancy is this and how many live births?” I had to relive the loss all over again.
I wish I had drawn close to God during that time in my life, but I didn’t. But that didn’t keep Him from holding me. I always thought that something tragic would draw me even closer to God, because I knew he had a plan. I didn’t push Him away, I just didn’t rely on Him to get me through it all.
September 25, 2009, I gave birth to a very healthy baby girl. As much as I tried to stay detached from her the whole time, the moment I saw her, I loved her. She taught me how precious life really is. What a wonder! I still look at her and tell her I am sorry. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her, I was just still hurting. I wanted her very much, but I was trying to protect myself.
It has been a year and a half since I lost my baby. It is still hard and I still think of my child in heaven, especially when I see children that are about the same age as my child would be. Then I look at my youngest and it is bitter sweet. When people ask me how many children I have, I want so bad to say that I have 4, but I don’t. Most people don’t want to hear my story. But these stories are important to tell. Women need to know they are not alone in their feelings. I heard a Hallmark commercial writer say that she was writing a card for someone who had lost a baby. This is what it said…Miscarriages are hard, because you have already fallen in love.
I wasn’t in a hurry to get to the doctor, since I wouldn’t get an appointment for several more weeks. It is just the way it works in the military sometimes. And since I found out at 4 weeks, I was fine waiting a few more. It wasn’t my first and I had never had any problems before, so why would this be different?
I had reached 7 weeks. I had plans on calling the doctor for an appointment, but I had to first go to the clinic and take a urine test before they would let me make an appointment. I started spotting. I knew something was wrong.
Let me rewind a bit. Before I got pregnant, I had a feeling that the next baby I conceived, I would not get to hold. I knew that something would happen. I kept trying to brush it off, but I knew. Why I knew, I will never know.
When I started spotting, I told my husband that I thought I was losing the baby. He told me to stop thinking that something was wrong. It wasn’t that he was trying to be insensitive; he was just as scared as I was, and he didn’t want to go there in his mind.
We were at Fort Stewart for the day and since the spotting was increasing, we decided to just go to the ER on post. We waited around for awhile, called our parents, played games with the girls and then my husband went to get something to eat. I was told several times that many women bleed during their pregnancies and it was probably nothing. I knew all that. I finally got my ultrasound; it said I was 5 weeks and 6 days. My stomach sunk. I knew that was not right, I was 7 weeks. Why was it reading wrong?
The next day, I drove back out to Fort Stewart to meet with an OB. They did another ultrasound; it said I was 5 weeks and 2 days. The doctor then turned on the Doppler so she could hear the heart beat. It was weak, slower than mine. Babies have rapid heartbeats. I looked at her hoping for her to tell me what was going on. She just told me, “Well, there is a heartbeat and that means your miscarriage rate it only 80% at this point.” She grabbed the images and rushed out of the room. My heart sank. I am not stupid. I knew what was going on. I wished so badly that she would have just said, “Your baby has a weak heart rate and it probably will not survive.” To get my hopes up seemed so cruel. But still, I tried to remain positive.
The next day, I began gushing blood. I yelled for my husband who just happened to be home early from work. I told him I had to go to the ER. We got the girls to the neighbors, and I put in a clean pad. I could feel the blood coming out. I knew what was going on.
When we got here, I told the receptionist what was going on and they got me back to a room immediately. I told the doctor that I was losing my baby. I had gone over what had happened the last few days and he was trying to remain optimistic until he got blood test and the ultrasound back. When we went back for the ultrasound I told my husband what to look for on the screen because I knew the technician was not allowed to say anything. She was so sweet. My husband looked down at me and shook his head. I knew that meant there was no heartbeat (it has been a year and a half since this has happened and writing this is not easy). The tech listened to my heartbeat and said, “That is your heartbeat.” Then she listened to the babies and said, “That is not your heartbeat.” It was nothing, no sound. It was her way of letting me know what was going on and I am very thankful to her for that. It made the several hours of waiting afterwards not so tense. My husband has a good sense of humor and when we are in serious circumstances, he likes to crack jokes. He did during this time. Most people may have not wanted that, but I needed that. He did too. It helped us cope.
The doctor came in to tell us what we thought. He told me was to expect over the next few days. More blood and clots, I may feel intense pressure and then relief. My husband and I walked out hand in hand not saying much to each other. What do you say? There isn’t much. I felt I was ok and while I was sad, I thought I was getting through this ok. I hugged my girls tight that night with so much more appreciation for their life. I took the pain meds the doctor gave me and went to bed. I was probably the only one who got a good night sleep that night.
My bleeding had let up a good bit and I thought I had passed much of the baby. On the day I would have been 8 week, we went to the store. I began to feel a lot of pressure and told my husband we needed to get home. I thought I was going to pass most clots and I didn’t want to bleed through my pad. I ran up the stairs when we got home almost doubled over from the pressure and the contractions. Not realizing it, I was in labor. All of a sudden I heard a plop in the toilet and a huge relief from pain. I got up and saw my child in the toilet and scooped it out and placed it on my counter top. I called my husband in there to let him know what happened. That is when all the emotions came rushing to me. I was looking at my dead child. I didn’t think I would see it. I thought it would be smaller and I wouldn’t know I had passed it when I did. I didn’t know what to do with it so I placed it in a plastic bag. I couldn’t go into my bathroom. All I wanted to do was take my baby and curl up in my bed and hold it, let it know how much I loved it. I didn’t want to let go.
The next morning, I told my husband I didn’t want to be sad anymore. So, we skipped church. I found a small wooden box and placed the baby in there along with a Bible verse. We loaded up the girls and drove to the beach. I had to explain to them that the baby had died and gone to heaven to be with Jesus. My oldest, who was 4 at the time, asked a lot of questions and cried. Once we got the beach, we walked into the sand dunes (which you are not supposed to do) and had a small burial for our baby. We said a little prayer and laid our baby’s body to rest.
I wasn’t prepared for all the emotions I would have with losing a baby. It hurt and I didn’t understand why God had done this to me. Why did he take my baby from me? Did he not think I could handle another one? Was I not a good mother? I just didn’t understand. Many people tried to offer words of encouragement, but it didn’t help. I knew they were trying to be supportive, but it didn’t feel that way to me. “50 % of all pregnancies end in miscarriage.”, “At least, you weren’t further along.” “A friend of my sister’s cousin had a miscarriage.” “Maybe God took the baby because something was wrong with it.” Nothing helped. Unless you have been there, you just don’t understand. You can try to imagine, but you just can’t…I couldn’t have before this happened.
I quickly tried to “get over it”. Thanksgiving was around the corner and I had dinner to plan. My family was coming into town. They had asked if I was up to it and I insisted they still come. I needed them to be around. It made that time easier. My husband and I had made the decision not to have any more kids, we didn’t want to take the chance of having that happen to us again. I didn’t think I could handle the emotions. But God had other plans. Little did I know that dealing with my miscarriage would be harder once I was pregnant again.
I tried to keep myself very distant from my child. I didn’t want to fall in love with my child just to have it ripped from my hands again. I braced myself before every appointment, because I knew something would be wrong. I hated the question, “What number pregnancy is this and how many live births?” I had to relive the loss all over again.
I wish I had drawn close to God during that time in my life, but I didn’t. But that didn’t keep Him from holding me. I always thought that something tragic would draw me even closer to God, because I knew he had a plan. I didn’t push Him away, I just didn’t rely on Him to get me through it all.
September 25, 2009, I gave birth to a very healthy baby girl. As much as I tried to stay detached from her the whole time, the moment I saw her, I loved her. She taught me how precious life really is. What a wonder! I still look at her and tell her I am sorry. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her, I was just still hurting. I wanted her very much, but I was trying to protect myself.
It has been a year and a half since I lost my baby. It is still hard and I still think of my child in heaven, especially when I see children that are about the same age as my child would be. Then I look at my youngest and it is bitter sweet. When people ask me how many children I have, I want so bad to say that I have 4, but I don’t. Most people don’t want to hear my story. But these stories are important to tell. Women need to know they are not alone in their feelings. I heard a Hallmark commercial writer say that she was writing a card for someone who had lost a baby. This is what it said…Miscarriages are hard, because you have already fallen in love.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Robin's Story (stillbirth- 22 weeks)
Eleven years ago my future was changed forever. Tim and I had been married for eight years and we were excited to be expecting our first child. The pregnancy brought lots of emotional events. It seemed though that after I entered my second trimester things settled down. We heard the baby’s heartbeat and I began to feel peaceful about the pregnancy.
That all changed suddenly. Just a few drops of blood and my life began to shift in ways I never imagined. I called our midwife and they decided to do a “routine” ultrasound. We scheduled it for the next day and I made arrangements to take off work.
Wednesday afternoon we walked in for the ultrasound. We were excited. We weren’t planning on having an ultrasound or finding out the sex of the baby but decided to find out that day. The first few minutes were normal. Then it went on and on. The ultrasound tech was deathly quiet and we knew something was wrong. Finally after about a half hour she left and called the doctor. I remember clinging to Tim’s hand. She returned and told us that our midwife wanted to see us in her office and we were to go over there.
We drove the few blocks in silence. Wondering… The mind is an incredible thing, without enough information it will create the worst scenarios in the place of information. Ok, there was something wrong with the baby, we would deal with it. Maybe it would involve surgery. We were blessed to have many friends who were in the medical community where we lived so we knew that we could handle medical problems.
Once we reached the midwife’s office, one of the midwives met us at the door and took us into a private office. Julie sat at the desk and said “You know I don’t have good news for you…” Those few little words began the quake that shook our lives. Our baby had died. We would have to go through labor and delivery. We were scheduled to the hospital the next morning. In all our wondering we never imagined that they would tell us that the baby died.
On September 19, 1998 I gave birth to our first baby. Josiah James was stillborn at 22 weeks. We found out on September 16 that JJ didn't have a heart beat and we went to the hospital on the 17th. JJ was born Saturday night. He weighed 8 ozs and was 10 inches long. I easily held him in the palm of one hand. It was a night that forever changed my life.
Those are the memories that I have. I remember what he looked like wrapped in a miniature blanket with a tiny hat. Those are the memories that I dust off today. I never rocked him, or feed him or changed a diaper. I never got to whisper in his ear. I got to hold him for a few short minutes. Today I remember those minutes. I mourn the loss of so much more.
When we drove to the hospital eleven years ago it was raining. We commented that God was weeping with us. Today I know that I am not alone in my grief. I know that God lovingly cares for me. Today I trust that my heavenly Father has a plan for this in my life that I can’t see or understand. I trust that He didn’t forsake me eleven years ago and he will not leave me today.
Long after you think you are done grieving you will feel the tears rush to your eyes and the hand constrict your heart as you remember.
I have posted previously about what I gained and lost when we gave birth to Josiah. This week I was reminded that even 11 years after the fact that my soul still grieves.
In the days, weeks and months that passed after we lost Josiah, grief literally flooded my soul much like a tidal wave. It would wash over me until there was nothing left. Even though my faith in God remained there was little to my spiritual life. I had no emotional energy it was like the grief had washed all the excess out to sea and it left me very raw and even barren.
As time passed the grief would still come but it seemed a little less in a way. Then last year as I dealt with some issues in my life it felt like the tidal wave was back again. It left me raw and emotionally barren. This year I have noticed that the grief still comes but it is a little softer. There is less rawness and more longing. Maybe that isn’t exactly right, I am still raw. I still deal with emotions that ride underneath the surface of my life. It seems I am more sensitive to certain things and more callous to others. But the under current isn’t rawness it is longing.
I long for the day when my family will be complete. I long for the day when I will finally after all these years get to hold and rock my baby. I long to see his face and know him. I long to see him perfected and whole not to erase the memories of his imperfection but to know he is finally complete.
I shared last year that grief books say when you lose your parents you lose your past but when you lose a child you lose your future. You lose the chance for the unknown. Maybe that is why the grief a child seems more poignant. You aren’t grieving the known, the memories you have. You are grieving the memories you could have had, all the things your child could have done and been.
With the loss of a child you don’t dust off memories you can laugh and cry over. You don’t have those memories to dust off. They simply aren’t there. Instead when certain milestones come you remember the loss and mourn the unknown. Our baby would have been born today; this is the first Christmas, first birthday, over and over. You mourn all the unknowns that you can never share with your baby.
I want to spend today remembering what I gained.
By going through the loss of our first born I gained an ever growing empathy for so many women who have suffered that same loss. It made me stop and realize how many times I had shared platitudes with people who were literally knee deep in grief.
By holding JJ I gained an understanding of how gracious and loving our heavenly father is. He willing laid down the life of his son for mankind.
I also gained a new realization of what a blessing it is to have healthy children. God is very generous by loaning us the precious gifts for a time.
I also gained a new understanding of the faithfulness of God. Prior to losing JJ I knew in my head that God was faithful. I knew that the Bible taught about his faithfulness and I really believed it. But when the world collapsed under my feet I learned first hand about God's faithfulness. I learned that even when my circumstances change, my God is still faithful. He still loves me, he cares about me and he never leaves me alone.
In the loss of a child I did lose some of my hope for the future. I grieved the loss of something unknown. But God was so loving and gracious that he opened the doors of heaven and poured out his blessings in my life. He comforted me with his comfort and walked with me during some of the darkest days of my life.
This was the scripture that one of my dear friends shared with me.
Psalms 20:1-5
May the Lord answer you when you are in distress;
may the name of the God of Jacob protect you.
May he send you help from the sanctuary and grant your support from Zion.
May he remember all your sacrifices and accept your burnt offerings.
May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed.
We will shout for joy when you are victorious
and will live up our banners in the name of our God.
May the Lord grant all your requests.
If you know someone who has suffered the loss of a child, I highly recommend the book Mommy, Please Don't Cry. This is written like a children's books with simple text and beautiful illustrations. It will bring many tears but also much comfort in knowing that the children we mourn are in the hands of a loving heavenly Father.
God is good...all the time.
Tim shared with friends that "grief and joy come back to back in life a lot." Eleven years ago I woke up to empty arms and struggled to prepare for a memorial service. Three years ago today I woke up to a 9 lb blessing named William Matthew.
Last year on Josiah's birthday we refused medical induction for our baby that was 2 weeks overdue. I didn't have a problem with Will being born on 9/19 if that was God's plan, but I didn't want it to be at the convenience of the doctor. We left the hospital and came home to spend the day with our boys and wait. I went into labor that afternoon and we arrived at the hospital at 11:00 pm. William Matthew was born at 12:30 am on September 20th.
God chose to give us a visual reminder of his goodness. This morning I woke up next to this reminder. As he rolled over and rubbed his eyes, I was able to thank God for his faithfulness. I was also reminded that he pours out his blessings in our lives when we don't really deserve them.
Many times in life I am reminded of different characteristics of God but I think one that is sometimes overlooked is God's goodness. People will talk about God's love, his faithfulness, kindness, mercy and so on. Those are all a part of who God is. When we struggle with difficult times it is hard to remember that God is good. God by his very nature can not do bad. When I see things happen that I don't understand I have to remind myself that even though I don't understand, the God I serve is bigger than I am. He sees eternity and has a plan. He is good ... all the time.
Job1:21b
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.
That all changed suddenly. Just a few drops of blood and my life began to shift in ways I never imagined. I called our midwife and they decided to do a “routine” ultrasound. We scheduled it for the next day and I made arrangements to take off work.
Wednesday afternoon we walked in for the ultrasound. We were excited. We weren’t planning on having an ultrasound or finding out the sex of the baby but decided to find out that day. The first few minutes were normal. Then it went on and on. The ultrasound tech was deathly quiet and we knew something was wrong. Finally after about a half hour she left and called the doctor. I remember clinging to Tim’s hand. She returned and told us that our midwife wanted to see us in her office and we were to go over there.
We drove the few blocks in silence. Wondering… The mind is an incredible thing, without enough information it will create the worst scenarios in the place of information. Ok, there was something wrong with the baby, we would deal with it. Maybe it would involve surgery. We were blessed to have many friends who were in the medical community where we lived so we knew that we could handle medical problems.
Once we reached the midwife’s office, one of the midwives met us at the door and took us into a private office. Julie sat at the desk and said “You know I don’t have good news for you…” Those few little words began the quake that shook our lives. Our baby had died. We would have to go through labor and delivery. We were scheduled to the hospital the next morning. In all our wondering we never imagined that they would tell us that the baby died.
On September 19, 1998 I gave birth to our first baby. Josiah James was stillborn at 22 weeks. We found out on September 16 that JJ didn't have a heart beat and we went to the hospital on the 17th. JJ was born Saturday night. He weighed 8 ozs and was 10 inches long. I easily held him in the palm of one hand. It was a night that forever changed my life.
Those are the memories that I have. I remember what he looked like wrapped in a miniature blanket with a tiny hat. Those are the memories that I dust off today. I never rocked him, or feed him or changed a diaper. I never got to whisper in his ear. I got to hold him for a few short minutes. Today I remember those minutes. I mourn the loss of so much more.
When we drove to the hospital eleven years ago it was raining. We commented that God was weeping with us. Today I know that I am not alone in my grief. I know that God lovingly cares for me. Today I trust that my heavenly Father has a plan for this in my life that I can’t see or understand. I trust that He didn’t forsake me eleven years ago and he will not leave me today.
Long after you think you are done grieving you will feel the tears rush to your eyes and the hand constrict your heart as you remember.
I have posted previously about what I gained and lost when we gave birth to Josiah. This week I was reminded that even 11 years after the fact that my soul still grieves.
In the days, weeks and months that passed after we lost Josiah, grief literally flooded my soul much like a tidal wave. It would wash over me until there was nothing left. Even though my faith in God remained there was little to my spiritual life. I had no emotional energy it was like the grief had washed all the excess out to sea and it left me very raw and even barren.
As time passed the grief would still come but it seemed a little less in a way. Then last year as I dealt with some issues in my life it felt like the tidal wave was back again. It left me raw and emotionally barren. This year I have noticed that the grief still comes but it is a little softer. There is less rawness and more longing. Maybe that isn’t exactly right, I am still raw. I still deal with emotions that ride underneath the surface of my life. It seems I am more sensitive to certain things and more callous to others. But the under current isn’t rawness it is longing.
I long for the day when my family will be complete. I long for the day when I will finally after all these years get to hold and rock my baby. I long to see his face and know him. I long to see him perfected and whole not to erase the memories of his imperfection but to know he is finally complete.
I shared last year that grief books say when you lose your parents you lose your past but when you lose a child you lose your future. You lose the chance for the unknown. Maybe that is why the grief a child seems more poignant. You aren’t grieving the known, the memories you have. You are grieving the memories you could have had, all the things your child could have done and been.
With the loss of a child you don’t dust off memories you can laugh and cry over. You don’t have those memories to dust off. They simply aren’t there. Instead when certain milestones come you remember the loss and mourn the unknown. Our baby would have been born today; this is the first Christmas, first birthday, over and over. You mourn all the unknowns that you can never share with your baby.
I want to spend today remembering what I gained.
By going through the loss of our first born I gained an ever growing empathy for so many women who have suffered that same loss. It made me stop and realize how many times I had shared platitudes with people who were literally knee deep in grief.
By holding JJ I gained an understanding of how gracious and loving our heavenly father is. He willing laid down the life of his son for mankind.
I also gained a new realization of what a blessing it is to have healthy children. God is very generous by loaning us the precious gifts for a time.
I also gained a new understanding of the faithfulness of God. Prior to losing JJ I knew in my head that God was faithful. I knew that the Bible taught about his faithfulness and I really believed it. But when the world collapsed under my feet I learned first hand about God's faithfulness. I learned that even when my circumstances change, my God is still faithful. He still loves me, he cares about me and he never leaves me alone.
In the loss of a child I did lose some of my hope for the future. I grieved the loss of something unknown. But God was so loving and gracious that he opened the doors of heaven and poured out his blessings in my life. He comforted me with his comfort and walked with me during some of the darkest days of my life.
This was the scripture that one of my dear friends shared with me.
Psalms 20:1-5
May the Lord answer you when you are in distress;
may the name of the God of Jacob protect you.
May he send you help from the sanctuary and grant your support from Zion.
May he remember all your sacrifices and accept your burnt offerings.
May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed.
We will shout for joy when you are victorious
and will live up our banners in the name of our God.
May the Lord grant all your requests.
If you know someone who has suffered the loss of a child, I highly recommend the book Mommy, Please Don't Cry. This is written like a children's books with simple text and beautiful illustrations. It will bring many tears but also much comfort in knowing that the children we mourn are in the hands of a loving heavenly Father.
God is good...all the time.
Tim shared with friends that "grief and joy come back to back in life a lot." Eleven years ago I woke up to empty arms and struggled to prepare for a memorial service. Three years ago today I woke up to a 9 lb blessing named William Matthew.
Last year on Josiah's birthday we refused medical induction for our baby that was 2 weeks overdue. I didn't have a problem with Will being born on 9/19 if that was God's plan, but I didn't want it to be at the convenience of the doctor. We left the hospital and came home to spend the day with our boys and wait. I went into labor that afternoon and we arrived at the hospital at 11:00 pm. William Matthew was born at 12:30 am on September 20th.
God chose to give us a visual reminder of his goodness. This morning I woke up next to this reminder. As he rolled over and rubbed his eyes, I was able to thank God for his faithfulness. I was also reminded that he pours out his blessings in our lives when we don't really deserve them.
Many times in life I am reminded of different characteristics of God but I think one that is sometimes overlooked is God's goodness. People will talk about God's love, his faithfulness, kindness, mercy and so on. Those are all a part of who God is. When we struggle with difficult times it is hard to remember that God is good. God by his very nature can not do bad. When I see things happen that I don't understand I have to remind myself that even though I don't understand, the God I serve is bigger than I am. He sees eternity and has a plan. He is good ... all the time.
Job1:21b
The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised.
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