PREFACE: I’ve shared everything about my life and my past for the last 5 years. I always know how I feel, what to say, and find transparency very comforting in my journey.
This post although is the hardest thing I’ve ever shared in my life.
I knew that If I was gong to share this extremely painful chapter of my life, I had to share everything.With that being said, I left nothing from my story and apologize that parts may be detailed and hard to read. Understand this is just my story, but it may connect to something within you as well and know that I hope this provides a safe and understanding place for us all to possibly heal. I love you all. Thank you for allowing me to share my story. -Alysha
1 out of 4.
I’m now; 1 of 4.
A statistic says, 1 in every 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage.
So for every 3 pregnancy announcements you see in those tiny squares on your instagram, there’s 1 you don’t
Miscarriage is not always a 1 time occurrence.
1% of women experience 2 or more miscarry pregnancies in their lifetime.
These were the words that were given to me as a laid on my doctor’s table, tears streaming down my face, realizing that I wasn’t just hearing these statistics, I was now one of them.
I knew how common miscarry was. I had consoled friends. I had offered words of encouragement as best I could, but the truth is, the pain of loosing a child is just unimaginable until it happens to you…..
I had my son 2 and a half years ago. This beautiful little boy came as a surprise to us, and although we were scared, nervous, and I didn’t know anything about being a mother; my son changed my entire life for the better.
He came to me at a time in my life when I was honestly lost within myself. He gave me a purpose and happiness only a child can bring into your life. He saved me from myself in so many ways. I love being a mother…..
So when my husband and I decided to try for another child, it was the first time we ever experienced the excitement of “trying” and when I saw those 2 pink lines; I literally felt my heart jump out of my chest!
I had never had any complications with my first pregnancy and although I knew miscarry can always happen; I was just so confident- that wasn’t going to be our story.
I found out about my pregnancy extremely early, around the 3 week mark. I was so excited, my husband would tease me how many pregnancy tests we were buying.
A week later after finding out I was pregnant, one night while giving my son a bath, I started bleeding abnormally. 1, 6 hour ER trip later, they said my hormone levels were sufficient for a 4 week pregnancy but we would have to test them every week until the baby was big enough to be seen on an ultra sound.
Those 2 weeks were hell on my mind.
Every test I would wait impatiently, waiting for my doctor to call me with the results.
My levels kept increasing and around the 5 week mark, I started getting sick.
I was sick everyday with my son until the 7th month mark and no matter how uncomfortable I was, inside this was so comforting to me. This was “pregnancy” for me and I knew as long as I was sick, that baby was growing.
At 6 weeks, I had my first ultrasound. My ultrasound tech was so sweet, and knowing what happened weeks ago, she warned me what this outcome may be.
That didn’t matter to me.
Negativity doesn’t exist well in my life. When I believe in something; that’s it. I’m relentless in what I believe in and this baby wasn’t any different.
I WILL NEVER FORGET THAT MOMENT.
This small flutter appeared on the screen and I knew that was my baby’s heart, beating strong.
This baby was a fighter just like it’s mama and I smiled and thought to myself as I placed my hand on my belly; “see I told you we were going to be ok.”
My doctor seemed very confident with my pregnancy and said let’s check back in 2 weeks.
I called my husband smiling ear to ear and finally felt confident to let this baby be our new reality; our new chapter.
My family was going to grow. My son would have a sibling to be just as perfect as him. I was going to be a mama again….
I asked my husband to join me on our next appointment. He hadn’t seen the baby yet and I was just so excited for him too see.
We were laughing, teasing one another like always, and because I was still so nauseous, my doctor was reminding me it’s all worth it, as she prepped the ultra sound machine.
As soon as the ultra sound started, I instantly knew something was off.
My doctor’s expression changed. She became quiet and turned the screen.
It was like I froze on that table. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t breathe. I just stared at the ceiling and kept repeating in my mind, “Please don’t let this happen to us.”I later felt so bad, because in that split second of me realizing the disappointment and pain, I was too shocked to notice what was going on around me, let alone notice my husband had no inclination what was happening…
My husband said, “Wait, what is happening? Is the baby ok?”
He didn’t realize there was no heartbeat….
My doctor turned to us and said how sorry she was, but our baby was gone.That next 24 hours was a feeling you can’t describe, you just feel with your entire body and heart.
I knew it wasn’t my fault.
I knew it was common.
I knew I was lucky and had a beautiful, perfectly healthy child already.
I knew time would heal….
I just felt like screaming at the top of my lunges, ‘I KNOW DAMN IT! I KNOW ALL THIS BULLSHIT!”
I know all of this, but it doesn’t do anything to help you cope with the fact that the child that was once there, heart beating strong- is now gone.
There are many options for women dealing with miscarriage: allowing the fetus to pass through the body naturally, taking an oral pill that induces labor to pass the baby, and an option of a surgery called dilation and curettage, or a D&C.
I didn’t want to spend days or weeks waiting for my body to pass the baby, knowing that mentally that would kill me.
I also could not bear the thought of inducing a labor and waiting on my baby to pass into a toilet; I didn’t want that memory for us.
I choose to have the D&C and scheduled the surgery 2 days after we found out.
The surgery was a total of 45 minutes and I was put under complete sedation via anesthesia. The fetus was disposed in a medically responsible way and the first 24 hours I was very sore and had some moderate bleeding.
Leading into the surgery, I was very torn with my thoughts. I couldn’t help but think, how morbid; that my child was not living inside of me, just there…. As much as I hated that thought, I was very emotional to the reality that this surgery was going to separate us.
Until the end, as a mother you want to protect your baby. I just desperately wanted a way for us to always feel connected and I couldn’t find it.
Every mother knows what is best for her and her baby, even in cases as hard as these. This was just the option that I felt most peace with.The days post surgery I found myself, well not knowing what to really do with myself.
I went hour to hour, trying to occupy my mind with anything but the grief, but I found little to do so.
My job is social media and felt like all I saw were pictures of beautiful babies, pregnancy posts and announcements.
It was so extremely painful too see in that moment, but I also didn’t want to take the joy from those women, I just couldn’t deal with those images and my pain at the same time. So I decided to take a break from work and social media.
My husband was nothing short of incredible during this time.
He cried with me. He held me. He picked up the slack at home, and he even tried to make some jokes to make me smile. I wrote a previous blog about how much becoming a parent made me respect and fall even more in love with my husband, and just how becoming a parent makes you bond with your partner, loosing the chance to be a parent does the same. I cannot put into words how much I appreciate and love him for what he’s been to me.
During those days I became extremely clingy to my son. I hated even not being in the same room as him, but as much as I felt the need to be next to him, it was also hard because I found myself wondering if this baby would have looked like him? If it would be a sister or brother for him to play with? I couldn’t help but thinking how many memories I could have had with them both….
One afternoon while snuggling on the couch, he pointed at my belly and said, “baby?”
I broke down.
I cried for him. I cried for that baby I wanted so badly. I cried for us.
It took me a long time to break the news to our friends and family. I hate sympathy. It makes me uncomfortable and even more I hated the burden it puts on everyone, who are trying to offer comfort and condolences, when truly there is nothing that can be said to give that.
I’ve had a lot of obstacles in my life and one of my best qualifies is I have the ability to be so fucking resilient.
I don’t get knocked down. I push forward. I deal…..
The most haunting thing was that this was the first thing in my life I just couldn’t get over right away.
I was so disappointed in myself for being so overly confident. I’m not naive enough to try to make sense of it all, but I still couldn’t help but offer scenarios in my head why this happened to us.
I felt it wasn’t fair for me to have grief. I mean, I already had a beautiful baby and some women didn’t.
This was my first experience; some women had suffered so much more pain than me. I just felt like this was something so painful it was better to not talk about. Suffering in silence was the best way…..
The truth is, I still have no idea how we get through it.
But what I can say is that as time goes on, I’m finding ways that even though I wasn’t given a life with this baby; this baby still continues to give me very beautiful things in my life.
I’ve spent the last 10 years of my life on a nonstop work train. I’ve been in a constant struggle to fit it all in: career, mother, wife, friend, etc.
My miscarriage was the first thing in my life that stopped me dead in my tracks. Made me look at the life I’m currently in, and see some areas I really needed to be more present in.
I started to realize that the woman I’d been in my past, didn’t want to be the same woman in my future.
I had changed and in some way, this baby helped me re-introduce myself to the person I really wanted and needed to be.
I’m not sure how I’ll heal. I’m not sure how anyone woman does…
I realized the way I stay connected, the way I honor the gift this baby was, even for a short time, is to live my present life with the most love I can give.
I started reading blogs of other brave women that shared their experience with loosing a child and with each sentence read, I felt more comfort than I’d ever felt before.
It just felt good to not be alone. It felt freeing to know that it’s safe and ok to grieve. It gave me hope too see some of these stories eventually have happier endings.
I didn’t write this post to drag out my grief.
I didn’t write this because I know how to get through it.
I wrote this as a big step to my own healing and I pray maybe give that to another woman.
I still hurt that I can’t hold this baby in my arms, but I find so much peace that I get to hold this baby in my heart forever.
Yes, I’m 1 out of 4 now. But I’m also a human and a mother capable of amazing things even I can’t understand yet.
Statistics don’t tell our story.
They don’t know our strengths.
Statistics don’t know us as the amazing mothers we are and can be.