To all you mothers, with grown babies, living babies, and angel babies; Happy Mothers day. As I celebrate all the mamas in my life, I can't help but feel a deep sadness in my heart. I never thought it would happen to me. But it did. And I'm finally ready to break the silence and talk about it.
Eager for some good news, we rushed to our appointment. We giggled as we pulled into into the "expectant mother's" parking space. We checked in. Waited. Saw a doctor. Waited more. Hours went by and It wasn't exciting anymore. Now, it was terrifying.
I stared at the ceiling in a dark room filled with a haunting silence and the humming of machines.
The tech squinted at the monitor as it lit up her worried expression. I couldn't see the screen but he could. The tech didn't say a word. He reached for my hand. I looked over and at that moment I knew..... His strong jaw clenching. His glassy eyes blinking in what seemed like slow motion. Looking back at the ceiling, I couldn't bare to ask. My heart raced, my ears filled with tears that fell from the outer corners of my eyes.
His hand squeezed tighter. He knew that I knew. There would be no good news.
I'll never forget those flowers. The ones outside the clinic. Purple something-or-others blowing in the breeze. My heart was so heavy I could hardly breathe. I stopped to snap a photo of them. I wanted something to keep. Anything remember. Anything but the ultrasound photo I didn't ask for because it would only be a painful reminder. A photo full of so much hope but so empty of life.
The sun was setting as we slowly and painfully walked back to the car. I read the words "expectant mother" once more. It even had a stick figure with a baby bump belly, something I may never have. My stomach turned. My eyes filled with oceans, my chest tightened, my throat felt as if I had a lump the size of a grapefruit.
He had never seen me cry so deeply. Even in the midst of all my shock and grief I felt sad for him, like I somehow wasn't being strong enough. I didn't have a strong bone in my body that day. It was all him. And I don't know what I would've done without him. I had never felt a loss so deep, so dark. He felt it too. We were speechless.
We went through the weekend waiting for some kind of cramping or any sign that this would be over soon. We were trapped somewhere between eager for it to be over and unwilling to say goodbye so soon. Quite possibly the longest two days of our lives.
Monday dragged on and we found ourselves right back in that parking lot. We both pretended expectant mother's parking spaces didn't exist.
They said it would be painful but I never imagined it would be that bad. And it was bad. We chose to go through the process naturally. I'll spare the details for several reasons but mostly because I can't bare to re-live one of the hardest nights of my life.
At first I felt I had let everyone down. That it was somehow my fault. I was so humbled by the fact that I am literally thee healthiest person I can be. I don't drink alcohol. Never have been a smoker. I exercise regularly. I nourish my body with proper nutrition. I was 27 years old in a very solid and loving relationship. I have the world to offer. And still.... why? Nothing made sense. Everyone who knew I was pregnant wanted this baby as much as we did. The devastating news broke my heart, but my loved ones kept my spirit alive.
I didn't leave the house for days afterward, and probably wouldn't have for weeks if I didn't have some amazing people in my life. People like my moms sister who came to my house with comfort foods. She me laugh, and took a nap in my bed with me since I refused to leave the house.
My sweet friend Sam who got me out of the house and into the sunshine at our favorite beach. My incredibly wise step daughter who knew exactly what to say to make me smile. My amazing mom, who was one call away the entire time. She sent me a care package filled with the smell of her house, something comfy to wear, and other stress relieving items. Even her handwriting put my heart at ease. My loving in-laws comforted me with hugs, home cookin, and words of encouragement. And my sweet Graham. My rock. The father of our little angel baby. I couldn't not have done this without him. Literally and figuratively. The texts poured in. Our closest friends and loved ones showed us so much support. I was blessed with this support group keeping me afloat. And I am eternally grateful to all of you. Even to you reading my story now. Thank you for being here.
To anyone suffering in silence, please reach out to others. Not everyone will understand your loss or the magnitude of your grief. Not everyone will know what to say or do to comfort you. Some will make remarks in an attempt to lighten the situation but really they will hurt you even more. Things like "you're so young. You can try again. At least you know you can get pregnant. This happens all the time you'll be better before you know it. It's all a part of gods plan. I knew the risk when I had a child. At least you didn't carry full term Etc...." NONE of that justifies the loss you feel. Regardless of what people say, it is a huge loss. And I never understood it until it happened to me. There may not be anything in the world that can ease your pain. There wasn't for me.
And for me, the pain didn't end after it "ended" either. I choked back tears in public when I saw pregnant women or babies. I cried when I received a baby shower invitation in the mail from someone who lives 3,000 miles away. My stomach turned endlessly when my entire Facebook, instagram, Pinterest feed, amazon cart, and email inbox was full of baby stuff.
If you have felt this type loss, this is for you. I'm here to tell you, at the very least, that you are not alone. Did you know 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage? I didn't. I had no idea. This happens more often than anyone talks about. And maybe thats part of the problem. The stigma in our culture is to talk about pregnancy loss. Fuck that, let's talk about what's REAL. It doesn't matter how far along you were, or how or why they say it happens. Nothing is your fault. From my heart to yours, I feel you.
Dr Seuss once said: "a persons a person no matter how small." I couldn't agree more.
So there it is, my story. I was pregnant. Now I'm not. I had a miscarriage. No, I do not know when I will decide to try again, or what will happen if I ever do. All I know is I made it through the darkness by focusing on all of the blessings I still have and am able to live a happy life again. When I was in the thick of it I really didn't think that was possible, but it is. I promise. And no matter what, Happy Mother's Day.
#ihadamiscarriage #1in4 #pregnancyloss #breakthestigma #breakthesilence #notalone #tearsinheaven
My love to you. It takes strength every day. Many days I don’t know where it comes from, but somehow I go on. People are full of platitudes as you said. They said that at least I had 19 years….I say, I only had 19 years. I am anguished every day…all day and always will be. You go on because you are strong. You have already proven that to yourself and everyone around you. You will be alright. You will go on. Live each day to the fullest. You can handle what comes your way. Love and hugs, Mama JACKSON
I miscarried before I had Asa, and again before I had Liam. The first was by far the most painful emotionally. I was almost 3 months along, almost “out of the woods,” but not quite aparently. I was incredably sad, but also I was mad at my body. It took me a while to process the emotion, it wasn’t just depression, or anger, or loss in a vague sense- it was directed. It was directed at myself. I was young, I was heathy, why couldn’t my body do the only thing that I had ever really asked of it? I had always wanted to be a mom. I was never thinking otherwise, it wasn’t “if” kids- but, “how many.” After a bit I realized the anger was based in fear, what if I couldn’t have a baby? The possibility, in my young and naive state, had never crossed my mind. I had a really crappy couple of months. Then, the next time we tried I got pregnant right away, and Asa became the best thing that has ever happened to me. I appreciated him all the more because if it. I’m so sorry you had to go through losing your little ray of sunshine, but know it isn’t necessarily a sign of something huge that’s wrong, or gods will, or the goddess grumpy or anything really. Sometimes something that happens just happens for no good reason, and just letting it go as best you can is the thing to do. Make another baby, the world needs more people like you in it.
This touched my heart in so many millions of ways. I love you and your heart so deeply without even knowing you or being in the same room as you before. I dare to dream what it would be like to be in your presence and to hear you sing in person. Thank you so much for being you
I can’t even imagine . I’m so sorry. I’m crying as I write this, and you’re so strong Victoria . I don’t know how far along you were, but Dr. Suess is up there with your mini reading that very rhyme you spoke of . Souls never disappear. I love you both very very much ❤️
I love you. I know this pain. How brave of you to write about it, so that others will know that they’re not alone. But then, that’s YOU, isn’t Victoria? You are one of the compassionate ones. ?