Updated: May 28, 2019
I want to start this post by saying that this is a very difficult topic for me to post because it's so personal and the wound is still healing. I've started typing and erased so many times, I'd start a new blog entry to avoid the draft entitled "Miscarriage". I'm very protective of my life and when I'm hurting I build a wall of "protection to "shield" myself from being hurt even more. I'm starting to realize that those walls have turned into a prison in my own mind. For my entire life I've worn a mask of perfection, masquerading as someone who has it all together but now I relinquish the shame of being vulnerable. Vulnerability requires bravery! My scars are not a sign of weakness but a glimpse of strength and hope. So here's one of my scars, I pray that this post brings healing and solidarity amongst women who have lost babies. You are not less of a woman, it wasn't your fault and you are not alone..
December 10th 2017, I woke up with a thought that I couldn't shake. A voice in my head told me, You're pregnant. My husband and I always kept tests under our bathroom sink so I got up from my bed and took the first one. I remember being so anxious waiting for the results. To calm my nerves I hopped in the shower. When I came out I picked up the test to see a positive sign. I said to myself "no way" so I quickly reached for the other digital test that would read either "pregnant” or "not pregnant". Those few minutes of waiting felt like hours but what I already knew was indeed a reality, I was pregnant. I looked at myself in the mirror and breathed in deeply, so many emotions rushing through my head. Prior to knowing that I was pregnant I had a series of dreams over the span of a few months. I would see a charcoal black baby playing and in some dreams me giving birth to him. He was always charcoal black and I interpreted it as him being in his heavenly state. So when I woke up that morning with a voice telling me that I was pregnant I saw it as confirmation that I was and that I would be having a boy. My husband worked very close to our home so he would always come home during his break. When he came home, I handed the test to him and we shared a long embrace. I scheduled my appointment to confirm the pregnancy and everything seemingly was going perfectly.
My husband and I went to my OBGYN to have an ultrasound to see how far along I was and when my estimated due date would be. I laid back in the chair, excited to see my little embryo. The doctor told me based on the tissue in my uterus I was approximately 3 weeks pregnant. She then sat down and told me that there wasn't a fetal pole and they could not detect a heartbeat. My heart dropped as I heard the news but she told me to come back in a week for a follow up appointment and that some babies fetal pole develop a little later. We left with a heavy heart but still hopeful. I was extremely optimistic because of all the dreams I had over that last year and I can admit I was a little arrogant thinking, there's no way I can lose a baby. The idea felt so far fetch and I just knew that God was telling me I was going to have a successful pregnancy. There were just too many signs to believe anything of the contrary.
A week had gone by and we were back at the OBGYN for our follow up. I went in nervous but confident that there would be a fetal pole. We went in for another ultrasound and she move the cold gel over my abdomen in search of a fetal pole. She was not authorized to give us any information so we were told to go into a room and the doctor would be with us shortly to go over the results. Part of me was still very hopeful, I had never been pregnant before so I didn't know what I was looking at on the ultrasound screen so in my mind I was still going to have a successful pregnancy. My doctor entered the room and I felt a energy shift that went up my spine. I waited for her to speak hoping that the words that came from her mouth would be the opposite of what I was feeling. She looked at me and said, "there's still no fetal pole, this is not a normal pregnancy". She went on to say that I should expect bleeding and not to panic. She ensured me that miscarriages are a very common thing and that there wasn't anything I could've done to have a different outcome. While she was going on and on trying to soften the blow, all I could hear was ringing in my ears. I was in complete disbelief, shock and denial. All I could think was "this can't be real, I know that I'm pregnant! I had countless dreams about this beautiful baby boy, theres got to be a light at the end of this tunnel." I refused to believe that a miscarriage was on the horizon. My husband kept a straight face, I knew that we was trying to be strong for me. We left and drove in the car in complete silence. He tried to comfort me but all I could do was look out the car window as tears streamed down my face. I went home and googled forums of women that were told the same thing as me and had successful pregnancies. I held on to the thought of being a mother to a beautiful baby boy.
January 21, 2018 I went to work despite feeling a little off balance. My store manager was aware of the possibility of me losing my baby and was very supportive. She kept a watchful eye and kept her word that she wouldn't share what I was going through with anyone. That particular night it was just her and I on the sales floor. We were resolving an issue a customer was having with her purchase and right in the middle of conversation I felt a rush pour out below. I held my composure until the issue was rectified. I dismissed myself from the sales floor and rushed to the bathroom to confirm that my worst nightmare was indeed a reality. I stared at a pad full of blood, my spirit broken. Feeling dizzy and lightheaded I gripped the sink looking at myself in the mirror. "This can't be real". I cleaned myself up and ran to call my husband. I had the option to wait for him but I knew a break down was eminent. I told him to meet me at home and I'll just call an Uber. The ride home in the Uber was the loneliest ride. I felt empty and although my driver was upbeat and attentive, I had nothing to give. When I got home I broke spiritually and mentally . The empty apartment matched my mood. I hate crying in front of people so I took the chance to get it out before my husband came home. I called my mom and she offered to come over and comfort me but I rejected the help. I felt so dejected and small. So much was going through my mind. I kept telling myself that I was dreaming but I knew that I'd never wake up from this nightmare.
When my husband arrived we went to the nearest hospital to confirm what happened. The nurses were taking my blood and I had to do several test and scans but all I could think of is "why me?" They say everything happens for a reason but I just couldn't understand what good could come from this. Especially being a woman that struggles with depression and anxiety, I asked God why would you do this to me? I told my family that I was pregnant on Christmas. That was one of the hardest pills to swallow, that my family was also experiencing this loss too. I'd just achieved one of my biggest dreams of being in a magazine and now I had to go to the release party suffering a miscarriage. I went back to work and worked while I was still going through my miscarriage. In my mind I couldn't stop and lick my wounds. Stopping meant spiraling into a pit of depression but in retrospect I probably should have taken the time off. I bleed for weeks and weeks and decided to get a DNC to make the process for quicker so I could heal both physically and spiritually. After the DNC I still bleed for weeks, it felt like the pain and shame was never-ending.
I was angry at God because I just couldn't understand why I was teased with dreams of a little baby boy only to have a miscarriage. I still don't understand but I'm not angry anymore. I figure the answer will come when I need it and until then it isn't my business. In the meantime, I know there are millions of women that have experienced losing a child. I hope that my story will inspire more women to be brave and show their scars and open wounds. Together we can share our stories and create a place of safety and solidarity. You are not alone, I feel you and we got this! It wasn't your fault and you shouldn't feel ashamed or less of a woman. If you made it this far know that this is still a journey for me. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about my lost child and what he or she would have been like but one thing I know for sure is that we are all spiritual beings first. Although my child didn't make it's physical entrance into this earth, he/she is still around watching over me and guiding me. I believe your children chose you and it just wasn't time for us to meet yet. Mommy loves you and I know we will meet when the time is right whether in this paradigm or the next. I pray that this post sparks growth and healing. Expand your roots by showing your scars and let's cultivate real healing together!
Advice: If you've experienced child loss of any kind I recommend staying close to friends and family for support. If you're working take the appropriate time off to heal physically and mentally. I made the mistake of staying busy, working and withdrawing from my loved ones. Looking back I needed all the support that was offered to me, don't let shame keep you from getting the help you need. Seek some sort of therapy. Even if you don't go to a physical therapist find healthy outlets to cope with the pain whether it be a hobby or writing your emotions down in a journal. One thing about pain, if you don't find healthy outlets to release it, it will find a way to release itself. You may find yourself lashing out on the people you love or withdrawing and those can be symptoms of not dealing with your pain in a healthy way. I've made that mistake and it only deepens the wound. Take the time to feel the pain, don't sweep it under the rug. Sweeping it under the rug will only make an obstacle that you'll have to climb over eventually. Unpack it, feel it and find your source of therapy. Lastly, be honest with yourself and the people around you. If you don't want to talk about it, it's okay to say so. There's nothing wrong with setting protective boundaries around your wounds. Again I wish anyone that's dealing or has dealt with this a speedy recovery both physically and mentally. The path to healing isn't an easy one but it is not impossible. If you ever need safe spot to vent, my email is always open. firstname.lastname@example.org.
Expand your roots by showing your scars!
**Special thanks to my amazing husband, friends and family that supported me through this tough time.