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Finding Hope After The Storm

“I want you both to know there isn’t anything you did wrong, but 1 in 3 pregnancies, result in miscarriage.”

This comment, on July 30th, was the nightmare we had never dreamed would happen to us. I just kept repeating it to myself, 1 in 3? How could that be? 

Our Story...

On July 1, I sat in our bathroom after coming home from a weekend with friends at the lake and stared at a pink test strip, as the second line began to form a wave of emotions took over. “Oh my gosh are we pregnant? Is that what that means? Wait, no, let me look at the directions again. Oh my gosh, we’re pregnant! We’re having a baby!” 

My husband walked in shortly after to see what I was up to, when I asked him, do you think this strip looks like this picture? Of course, I already knew it did, but almost just didn’t believe it. 

I took a digital test the next morning to confirm and called the doctors office. As I talked to the nurse, it just didn’t seem real, I made all my appointments over the next month and then we became very familiar with the waiting game.

The next few weeks were so exciting; we talked about what it’s going to be like, how truly blessed we were to get pregnant so quickly, how we were going to tell our parents and families.

I’m awful at keeping secrets; my husband was truly the backbone to making sure I didn’t put it on a billboard downtown. At the time, I just didn’t understand why anyone would want to keep this a secret? 

Our first appointment was on the 15th, we went in, I peed in a cup and they took blood after answering a million questions. We left feeling on top of the world and at the same time incredibly overwhelmed with excitement and full of at least 1000x questions. 

After the initial appointment, we went to Naples, FL with friends that weekend, where we couldn’t hide our big secret for very long. Everyone couldn’t have been more supportive and so incredibly happy for us. I got the club soda, cran with a lime order down and became a professional at ordering dessert. Jacob and I walked on the beach and talked about our first family vacation with our future little one.

Our first ultrasound was July 30th, and that’s where things started to get foggy. We had lunch together before and he tried to make sure my excitement didn’t get the best of me… until we were waiting to see the heartbeat. Hand in hand, squeezing with excitement, that’s when the doctor’s silence lasted for a little too long. 

I honestly can’t tell you what we were feeling or even what I was thinking at that time… I knew the doctor was talking to us and I knew he was making sure that we understood he couldn’t confirm a heartbeat or a miscarriage and we would have to come back in a week, so he could know more about the early twin pregnancy he could see. I was sobbing, I just couldn’t control it. The doctor talked to us, but all I could hear was the “M” word. 

That next week was spent doing a lot of grieving, we just couldn’t believe it. My body honestly just couldn’t recover, I blamed the hormones, but I would just randomly break down. I couldn’t control it. Jacob was wonderful, incredibly supportive, we were in this together. 

Our next appointment we left with the notion that we miscarried and I was given a prescription to manage our miscarriage. A few hours after our appointment my doctor calls and asks me not to take the medication, but to wait another week and come back for another ultrasound.  “Wait, you want us to wait?” I now hated that word, the constant unknown that gave our hearts just that little sliver of hope. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long, my body naturally started the process that weekend and we found out that not all was taken care of and now I was back on the track to take the pills that weekend. 

When nothing happened, of course I thought, I would be the 15% the medication wouldn’t work for. I knew that on that Tuesday at my 4th ultrasound in 4 weeks my doctor would tell me about the surgical procedure that would be required. As I sit here typing our story it is the day after our DNE. Everyone at the outpatient center couldn’t have been more kind, offering condolences and trying to keep it light hearted, but it was just so final. No hope, no more waiting, as much as I hated the waiting, I almost wished we were still waiting. At this point we needed to find closure, to grieve the loss of our first pregnancy but to hold onto the hope that leads us to planning our future family together. 

At the end of all of this, we walk away feeling stronger, I guess, trying to find any sliver of positivity in this experience. This is after, I cussed out all my feelings in the bathroom mirror.  

After doing some research, lots of reading, it breaks my heart that this is so common for so many families out there. My message to these women, grieve, feel whole heartily the sadness and the heartache that comes with this experience. There is no right or wrong way to feel. I coped with red wine and online shopping, but find your cope, find your distraction, find your hope, your strength, and your courage, because baby girl you are strong. Always cherish the memory of your little one who first made you a momma, but hold on to message that God gave you that perfect little babe first to lay the groundwork and watch over your future family.