My First Miscarriage

As I sit here, tears rolling down my face, I'm not sure where to start.  I feel called to write some of this out so it feels less stuck, but I don't know how to write about this kind of pain.  I will say that I wish this on not a single soul ever.  

I guess I'll start at the beginning.  In summer of 2020, Jesse and I decided to talk about having one more baby.  We both felt like we were supposed to have 3 kids, but the state of the world was completely fucked, and we were about to start homeschooling our kids in hopes of keeping us all safe in an insane pandemic.  We were also hesitant because of how challenging the postpartum period has been for me both times, and therefore, challenging on our relationship; which was (and is) feeling the best it has ever been in over a decade. 

We talked about this for about 9 months; and decided in March 2021 to start trying and see what happens.  With our other two kids, we got pregnant right away so we didn't want to start trying before we were possibly willing to conceive right away.  Month after month went by and we werent getting pregnant.  I visited with my midwife and she gave me some tips.  I took some of the tips and we kept trying.  After 6 months of nothing, I went to see her again.  She strongly suggested using the ovulation predictor kit, so I did.

And we got pregnant in October, found out Nov 2, 2021.  To say I was overjoyed was the understatement of the year.  I was shaking for 3 days with pure joy and excitement that it FINALLY worked.  We were going to complete our family.  I contacted my favorite home birth midwife RIGHT away and asked if she would work with me and my family.  I told everyone we were pregnant because my joy and excitement could not be contained.  I also knew that if something bad were to happen, I'd need to lean on A LOT of people to help me through, so I didn't really hold back in the sharing department.  I'm a firm believer that joy should be shared: especially these days of covid life.

On the 9th week of pregnancy I had a little bit of brown spotting, and wasn't really concerned because I know that's pretty normal.  I had it for a few days, let my midwife know and she wasnt too concerned either.  On the 3rd day I had a little more than usual so I asked her what I should do.  She got me in for an early ultrasound on Friday December 10 at 2pm.  Jesse came with me.

In the ultrasound I knew right away something was wrong.  I could feel it.  The technician asked me 3 times if I was sure of the dates of my last period.  She asked me if I usually had heavy periods.  And she had to do the intravaginal ultrasound instead of the one on my belly.

The energy in the room shifted to very somber and quiet as I put my pants back on and got ready to depart.  Jesse held my hand to the car and I just didn't have a good feeling.  I texted my midwife to let her know we were done.  In 2 minutes she called me back. "She couldn't find a heartbeat; I am SO sorry."  The moment I hung up the phone, animalistic noises poured out of my body.  Guttural screams of pain and sadness just came out uncontrollably.  I couldn't breathe.  I couldn't see.  My baby stopped growing 3 weeks before.  How had I not known?  How had I not felt it?  Why was this happening?

My perfect husband pulled us over to a park so we could get out and walk around before going home.  He held my hand, and he held me and validated all of my tears and screams.

How could I have JUST made my 12 and 20 week ultrasounds literally the day before finding out my baby has no heartbeat and will not be a baby on this earth?  How did things just change so instantly?  

So I sent a generic "Found out baby has no heartbeat today.  Cant talk about it-just please check in on me" text to many many people to update them.  I couldn't imagine saying it out loud.  The writing it out, copying it and pasting it was easier.

So now.  Now I feel stuck; uncomfortable; and the deepest sadness I have ever felt in my entire life.  I would never want anyone to feel this.  And I know people experience this ALL OF THE TIME.  I'm paralyised by my sadness and feel so anxious for the physical miscarriage to get on the way.  We have a plan for that, but need to wait until Monday.  These 2.5 days have been the longest of my life.

But what makes me cry the hardest?  The unwavering, unbelievable amount of love and support just POURING in from all angles.  I am deeply deeply humbled by how held and loved I feel from my family, friends and general community.  Food is being dropped off every day.  Texts are pouring in.  I had 23 check ins yesterday.  TWENTY THREE DIFFERENT PEOPLE CHECKED IN ON ME IN ONE DAY.  It makes me cry so hard and then I don't know if I am crying from gratitude, or from sadness.

It's all so surreal and so incredibly heartbreaking.  I am not ashamed, and I am not to blame.  I don't know why this is happening but I'm trying so hard to trust that it will make me stronger.  Maybe it will make me a better doula.  

A spark of a soul is passing through my body as a vessel.  This humbles me, makes me grateful this vessel was chosen, and it makes me angry and uncomfortable that it's happening because it's SO MANY feelings to process that it is paralyzing and feels like just too much.

I'm sure I will have more to share after I experience the physicality of a miscarriage.  But for now, this had to be written down for my own sanity so I can hopefully pause the replay in my head for a little while.

Thank you for reading.  And thank you for all of your love and support.  In the deepest sadness from the depths of my soul that I have ever felt, I feel so incredibly loved and that will be what gets me through and keeps me getting out of bed every day.

Love,
Sarah