*Trigger Warning*
This isn’t for the faint of heart. I talk about pregnancy loss and I talk about medical termination of one of my pregnancies (abortion because of medical reasons). I also talk about depression and dark thoughts similar to suicide. That might be triggering to some.
If you decide to read do so at your own risk and if you have anything to share feel free. However, I will ban comments that are deemed inappropriate. Thank you for understanding.
Alright, it’s been real everyone. This might be longer than I want it to be. I don’t mind sharing my experiences. It’s tough to even put it in words sometimes. So I’ll do my best and share what I can.
In honor of pregnancy and miscarriage awareness month (October 15th is the Remembrance Day) I decided to share my story. I’ve touched on it in the past. But never in depth talked about my emotions. My thoughts. The grieving process I suppose. I find that talking about it and sharing my story can help others going through the same thing or open a perspective for some that may know someone going through it or simply want to know what we go through. There’s no words for people who’ve experienced this. No amount of words can take the pain away. But, if sharing this can open people’s eyes and chip away the stigma around it. I’m more than honored to talk about it.
Over three years ago on May 23rd, 2016 I would wake up like any other day. No symptoms besides one of my cats being all over the days leading up to. I would take another pregnancy test the same way I did all the other days only for it to come up negative. I was sure it would be negative again. It’s been 10 months of trying to conceive how would that day be any different; or so I thought. Through heavy eyelids, I checked my test five minutes later and saw it clear as day. The other line. The line that tells me I was with child. My life was going to change. My husband was going to be a father. My family would welcome this child with love. Oh how this child would be loved.
As the days passed I dealt with stretching pains, an excited family wondering what we would be having. A girl or a boy. Everyone swore up and down it would be a boy. While my husband and I were sure I was having a girl. I have a journal where I kept my thoughts and growing maternal instinct almost every week. The joy we felt when found out we were going to have a baby girl. I still swell with bittersweet emotions from the thought. How tightly my husband held my hand. The way I laughed when they told us it was a girl. Surprising my parents with a chocolate cake that had a pink flower. It’s all there. I cherish those memories. My last memories with her. The last ones I had where I was a first time mother unaware and oblivious to the devastation to come. How I wish I could hug her. Prepare her for what’s to come.
I won’t go into too much detail of that day. I’ll share my thoughts through the whole thing and what actually happened.
August 24th was probably like any other day I suppose. I always bled a bit during my pregnancy with Rosebud. Always had urine infections. That was all normal for 18 weeks. The cramps were surprisingly more painful. As the day carried on my cramps would get worse. Eventually, leading me to call my dad to drop me off to the Emergency Room just in case. I was always told to go to the ER if I experienced bleeding that was out of the ordinary. After a few hours I was out. They checked my Baby girl. She looked great and figured she was sleeping since they prodded her and she moved around. Heartbeat strong as can be. My cervix closed and no signs of anything wrong. My husband had texted me saying maybe I was having first pregnancy jitters. That I was perfect and she was perfectly fine. The cramps never subsided as I went home with my sister in law. We talked about how weird it was that I was still having pain. I was tired. All I wanted was to get to bed and wake up feeling better. Upon arriving home I felt like I was (literally) peeing myself. I chalked it up to the urine infection while baby is on my bladder as I ran to the bathroom to clean up.
“More blood? More water? Why doesn’t my pee stop? It’s as if I have no control over myself anymore. This pain. What are these pains on my right side? My appendix? Great. I’m pregnant and about to perhaps die because my appendix is about to burst.“
Eventually the pain was coming in and out every few minutes and since I couldn’t reach my parents (it was about past 2am at this point) I called 911. I cried because of the pain and fear. At no point did the thought crossed my mind that I was in labor. I actually thought I was dying of something else. This is where things get fuzzy for me the ambulance ride, arriving, getting my vitals checked, my sister in law asking me if I was okay. I was in a lot of pain and all I wanted was for this pain to stop. I didn’t want to die. I just wanted everything to be okay. I remember my sister in law telling me that the sheets I had hugged between my legs were slowly getting soaked in blood. Before it truly could hit me. It happened. I felt a part of me die. I felt my heart slowly crumble. A little light in my soul go out. I barely remember what I said only the tears and no matter how much I cried out. It wasn’t going to make time stand still. I wasn’t going to get my daughter back. Making the dreadful call to my parents. Telling them I had lost my baby. Their first grandchild. My husband would get a text at work saying his daughter was gone and that his wife was probably bleeding. How time passed so slowly at first in that room where they told me not only that I lost my daughter but my placenta wasn’t coming out. I was losing blood. To endure even more pain to save me. The dark thoughts that went through me at first.
“Do I really want to be saved? Was it worth saving someone who was now an empty shell?”
Yes. I was. But I didn’t know it at the time.
I watched the pale look on my husband’s face as he walked into the room. The guilt and despair on his face was haunting. No tears. Only emotions. I was okay, right? I would be. Just not today or the days to come.
Her ashes are with us. A UTI gone bad to the point it weakened her placenta and everything around her. Nothing could of been done. No amount of antibiotics. Nothing. The grief was still in our hearts when I found out I was pregnant again only months later. We were excited yet cautious. Only to find out that our baby was not well. His brain hadn’t developed and his heart was going to give out any day. He never moved or showed any other signs of life besides his slow heartbeat. Unfortunately, I decided to terminate at around 15 weeks with him. Enough to find out what we were having and figure out what was wrong. The devastation I felt was doubled upon. I cried the whole way home not caring who was around me. I had experience the loss of not one but two babies. I felt as though the world hated me. That I wasn’t meant to be a mother. I was overwhelmed with emotions even up to the day of termination. May 30th 2017 I would lose Ulrich; Our first son.
No one prepares for this. Pregnancy is a time of joy and preparing yourself to be a parent whether it be the first time, second or more after. Also, it not only impacts the immediate person but even those around you sometimes. I was in a dark place where I didn’t know how I could go on without my babies. I did therapy, played video games, took walks with my husband. I started to realize that I had to take things a day at a time. My day would come where I would be a mother hopefully one way or another. Thankfully, I was able to. Yet there are days I think about my babies and the tears come running. Nothing can prepare you for grief. We just live with it everyday.
Thank you for reading this far. If you or anyone you know has experienced pregnancy loss or stillbirth, I am so sorry. My condolences are with you and that person. I hope you know that you’re not alone. Much love everyone.
Sirua's Serenity 