Pregnancy & Loss

In July, Darren and I found out the best news ever: I was pregnant! We were so excited! I found out just in time to throw together a surprise gift for his birthday, so that's how I told him the news. I bought an itty-bitty pair of adorable baby shoes and wrapped them up, with a note saying it was "part one" of his birthday gift; the rest would be here in March. We just couldn't believe it. It was all so surreal! We are going to be parents! We called our families and told some of our close friends, so they could all share in our excitement too. (Within 3 days of telling my parents the news, we received a package of little baby onesies from Mom. I think she was pretty excited.) 

We made an appointment with the midwives group in Provo, and in early August we got to see our little peanut for the first time. We could see its little heartbeat! It was wonderful and overwhelming and so, so exciting. We figured out my due date -- March 16 (ish) -- which was, go figure, right smack dab in the middle of the Disneyland trip we were planning. So Disney plans changed and we started moving furniture around in our craft room to make room for baby stuff. We posted an announcement on Facebook when I was only about 9 weeks along, because I simply couldn't wait any longer to share our good news -- we were so excited! 

I didn't experience much morning sickness (none, really, just some queasiness that would get pretty intense if I was around the wrong smells or moved too quickly) but I was super duper tired. All. The. Time. Naps on the couches at work quickly became a regular thing. I was surprised how often I had to pee (I always assumed that was due to the baby weighing on your bladder in later pregnancy, but evidently there are other factors involved too.)

Then, when I was about 10.5 weeks along (August 28), I started to have some very light bleeding/spotting; almost nothing, really, but pregnancy sure knows how to make you paranoid. I figured if it didn't go away within a day or so I'd call the midwives and we'd get things sorted out. The bleeding didn't go away; in fact, it got worse. Of course it was over a weekend, so I was at home panicking because I had no idea what was going on. I felt totally fine! There couldn't be anything wrong, right? So first thing Monday morning (Aug 31), I ducked out of the office for a "quick" trip to the doctor's office. Just to check. I was about 95% sure everything was going to be just fine. 

They asked about my symptoms (no pain, little bit nauseous, nothing different than usual) and pulled in the ultrasound machine to check on our little peanut. The nurse couldn't find it at first, so she went and grabbed an ultrasound tech. At this point, I was starting to get a little nervous, but it had taken 3 ultrasound tries to find the baby the first time around, so surely this wasn't unusual. At least, that's what I kept trying to tell myself. When the ultrasound tech (finally) found our little peanut she asked "How far along should you be?" and I knew something was wrong. It should have been "How far along are you" -- not "should." I didn't like "should." I told her I should be about 11 weeks, so she pushed some buttons on the machine and kept looking. She finally turned the screen so Darren and I could see, and she showed us that, usually, there would be color (indicating movement and/or a heartbeat).

But there was no color. No movement. No heartbeat. Our precious little baby didn't look any bigger than in the first sonogram we had gotten a month before. The tech took some measurements. "Oh, honey. Baby's only measuring about 8.5 weeks," I heard the her say. She stopped the ultra sound and put her hand on my knee. "I'm so sorry," she said. Darren and I held each other and cried as it sunk in: I had miscarried. Our baby had died. 


We talked about options with the nurse, and decided that I wanted to try to miscarry naturally, at home. So we went home, and the waiting began. 

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(This is where the details might be a bit much. 

Please feel free to skip this part. I just needed to get it out there.)

For the next week, the bleeding increased and I started having painful cramps. During the days I usually felt fine; I was still able to go to work and basically function like a normal human being. Nights were awful. Netflix was my coping mechanism. Darren kept me company and cried with me. He made me as comfortable as I could be. 

No one told me that miscarriage would be like an early birth. Everyone said that it would be like a heavy period -- they lied. Maybe that's how it is for many women, but not for me. The cramps got worse and turned into contractions. I laid on the couch with Netflix playing something as background noise and I watched the clock and I could time the contractions. I knew when I would get the next round of painful, intense pain, and I braced myself for it. I needed to run to the toilet frequently, but the pain made it hard to move. (At one point, I took the Wii U controller pad into the bathroom with me so I could watch Netflix without having to move from the toilet; the pain was that bad.)

This went on for days. On the worst night, I bled and cramped and hurt so much that I shook uncontrollably. I was in so much pain, and I just wanted it to end. What kind of cruelty was it that I had to lose my baby and go through this hell? I made sure Darren knew where my robe was so, if need be, he could take me to the ER. (Of course, again, this all happened in the middle of the night. Emergencies never happen during normal business hours, do they?) Eventually it was over, though, and almost immediately I could tell I felt better. Tired and weak and so totally, completely drained -- emotionally, mentally, and physically -- but better. I knew it was over, and now I could start healing.

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(Ok, detailed part over. You can resume reading.)

Through the whole process, I had been blessed with an overwhelming sense of peace. I knew that God loved me and that things would be okay. I didn't know the details, but I felt reassured that things would work out as they should. I was reminded of things that had been promised to me in Priesthood blessings I had received, and they gave me great strength. 

For the week of physical miscarriage symptoms, my emotions seemed to be stable. I was sad, of course, and drained and somewhat emotional, but okay. But once my body was back to feeling "normal," my emotions went for a roller coaster ride. I know that we will be okay, and hopefully we'll be able to have kids soon (got the all-clear from the doctor - yay!). So for now we just have to work through the process of grief and healing. The last few weeks have been hard, emotionally and mentally, but we have amazing friends and family that are so loving and supportive, and Darren is just incredible to me.