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.