1 in 4

1 in 4, thats equivalent to 25%. 25% doesn’t seem very large until you’re effected by it. This past month I became one of the 25%.

On February 8th, Chance and I found out we were going to be welcoming another little one into our arms. We had decided that we would try only in January to fulfill my lifelong wish of an October baby. Similar to my first two pregnancies, I got pregnant immediately. There was barely any trying on our parts. Chance was over the moon to finally have a baby that we planned. 

For the first few weeks my pregnancy went great. I had very minor morning sickness and overall I didn’t feel pregnant at all. I requested that Chance didn’t break the news to family or on social media until we were 100% sure our baby would be fine. The entire time I had a bad feeling. I felt this overwhelming need to be cautious and keep the news close. We spent the next 20 days after finding out impatiently waiting for the appointment. 

At our appointment Chance and I thought I was dating at 8 weeks. My LMP was December 29th, and even though they were extremely irregular, we assumed my ovulation date was January 14th. I had taken a few ovulation test that seemed to show a positive on January 14th. When we did our ultrasound the tech had to switch from abdominal to transvaginal. This wasn’t uncommon to me and didn’t alarm me much. The most alarming part of the ultrasound was the fact that I was dating at 6 weeks. Baby wasn’t showing a heartbeat, but again this wasn’t that uncommon at 6 weeks. We spoke with our OB in his office and he remained optimistic. We rescheduled an appointment for the following Friday in hopes that we would see a healthy growing baby. Upon leaving the appointment I started stressing out. I could feel something wasn’t right and I couldn’t make myself have hope.

Unfortunately we didn’t make it to that Friday. March 4th will always be in my mind. I had just came off a three shift weekend and was so exhausted. I spent the morning in a huge fight with my Dad and brother, and was feeling generally unwell. I had bawled my eyes out most of the day and just felt overall stressed and unhappy. Around 7:30 we started the kids bedtime routine. I went to pee before laying down and noticed that I had began bleeding. I immediately knew something was wrong. 

I told Chance with tears in my eyes. We finished getting the boys in bed and left for the ER. My bleeding wasn’t a mass amount, but the bright red color and the constant flow really unnerved me. I didn’t speak a word the entire ride t the hospital. Once we got in I was asked multiple times what was wrong and each time it hurt a little more to explain my situation. I felt embarrassed and ashamed. They took blood and shortly after escorted us to a room. We spent the first hour and a half completely alone. The first person we saw was a med student who seemed to lack confidence and the basic questions to be dealing with such a fragile topic. She inquired about receiving an ultrasound and we informed her nothing had been done thus far. Shortly after she returned with our nurse and a bed pan to do a pap smear on me. It was the most painful pap I’ve ever endured. I was awkwardly throw on a bed pan and made to spread my legs in the most uncomfortable position. The medical student poked and prodded in my vagina in search of my cervix. I told her multiple times that my cervix liked to misbehave. After some intense pain she finally found it an informed us that it was closed and she didn’t notice any active bleeding. This game me a tiny bit of hope, but I still knew it was the end for us.

Immediately after they took me for an ultrasound. I wasn’t permitted to see the images at all. I came back with no answers for my husband of myself. We sat together worrying and wondering until the ER doctor finally came in. He coldly informed us the baby had consistent growth, but still had no heart beat. He told me I was likely to miscarriage and would need to follow up with my OB in the next 48 hours. When the nurse came to discharge us she was extremely chipper and bouncy. She happily asked if we were ready to go home as if she hadn’t heard the news. That hurt so bad. I wanted to bawl my eyes out and at the same time I was left wondering how this nurse could lack compassion on that level. 

The next morning I immediately called my OB and let him know what was going on. We decided to keep my appointment for Friday and discuss our options in detail then. I spent the next few days with a constant reminder that I was losing my baby. My body was physically bleeding my baby out and I couldn’t escape it. I cried off and on every day. On Thursday I committed to going to work. It was such a mistake… I dealt with pain throughout the day and was generally uncomfortable. I had longtime patients asking about my baby and it hurt so bad to tell them that I was currently miscarrying it. 

I wish I could end this on a happy note. I wish I could say that we went Friday and baby miraculously had a heartbeat and was perfect. We spent the first 30 minutes of our appointment in the waiting room listening to happy moms on the phone describing their babies and deciding who’s features they had. When we finally went back I was told that we would be doing a transvaginal ultrasound. I couldn’t allow myself to look at the tech. I tried to keep my eyes everywhere but her face. I could see the look on Chance’s face and I knew it was done. His eyes showed no emotion at all. There was no offer of pictures or inkling of happiness in the room. It was like reliving everything all over again.

Chance and I made the decision to have a D&C done. We both knew that I couldn’t endure what could possibly come with a natural miscarriage, and I had heard horror stories about cytotec. It was an easy decision for us and my OB was immediately on board. He did everything in his power to make us feel comfortable and help with our decision. 

We are currently one day post D&C and nothing is easy. I still don’t have the words to say when people apologize for whats happening. I still get angry inside when people say God has a plan, or there was something wrong with the baby. No matter how good the intentions are, those comments are still very hurtful. I still cry off and on throughout the day. I still find myself worrying about ever conceiving again. These are things I’ll live with for there rest of my life. I wish I could say this is something I can push out of my mind and move on from… I wish things didn’t impact me so hard. I’ll spend the next few months constantly thinking about our angel baby. I hope too channel all this pain into something good. I hope that my story and openness can assist someone else in healing. 

We will forever love our little baby. A friend at work had referred to baby as Franklin so that is his name. We will always be the parents of three children, even if you can only see two of them. We will always remember him and know that he was too perfect to be on Earth. 

         I never imagined we'd be at this point. I want to be very public about this because I know so many others are holding it all in. It's ok to be open about your struggles. It's great to be able to spread awareness and find a support group to help you through your storm. It's also ok to be private and mourn your own way. Everyone handles things differently, just know you're not alone. Theres millions of other women and their families going through the same thing. They're all praying, hoping, wishing for a blessing... and one day everyone's blessing will come.