Even very early in my marriage I knew I wanted a baby. I did not care if it was a boy or a girl, I just knew I wanted to be a mommy. I never expected I would be one of the women who lost their baby before it ever entered this world. The shock, the fear of not being able to have another chance, the guilt, and loss is hard to express in words.
When I miscarried the first time, I did not know what was happening, I had only known I was pregnant for a few weeks. I was so excited and nervous. I was walking on clouds of happiness just wishing that I could see my proverbial stork stop at my home. Then one day at work, I began feeling pain. I had never looked up the symptoms of a miscarriage so had no clue what was happening. I just knew it felt wrong. When the bleeding started I thought I was “spotting” a commonality I heard of for many women to continue even while pregnant.
Then the pain intensified and terror gripped my heart. For the first time I feared I was losing my baby. I rushed to the emergency room and after much blood drawn and a terrifying wait, was told I had miscarried. But what those words meant to me, was that my baby had died. I felt something inside of me, crushed. It was still very early in my pregnancy. All the joy and anticipation that had built up in me over the past few weeks suddenly died just as the baby had.
I was confused and wondering if I was meant to be a parent at all. Could I do this anyway? Hearing all the “ I’m so sorry for you, don’t worry He always has a plan for our lives…”, only caused me mild comfort and anger. I didn’t want to hear that. I wanted to feel this loss because I felt that the soul who had been lost deserved to be mourned, not just forgotten so cruelly as if he/she didn’t even have a life.
A few months later it happened again. I found out I was pregnant again. I was overjoyed and fearful at the same time. My doctor suggested I take it easier physically. I had seen this child’s heartbeat flickering on the monitor and heard it’s beat. I started to spot and was admitted immediately, the baby was okay but I was to be on bedrest. It was mostly to soothe my mind. I had so much fear of grieving the same way that I quit my job to stay at home on bed rest.
I had a flicker of hope and one day the restlessness of being laid out became unbearable and I decided to do some cleaning. I’ll never to this day forget the guilt that overpowered me when the blood first started. I felt it was my fault. I was shaking in terror that I had hurt our baby. When the bleeding became very heavy, I felt, I mean really felt my heart break. I passed our baby without need for a doctor, only a follow up the next day to confirm.
I will never forget that talk. It was confirmed my baby was gone. The condolences were more than I could handle. When my former boss called me and said she had heard the news, she asked me if I wanted to come back to work. I answered honestly that I was no longer the same person. I couldn’t smile and greet clients or work with the same energy. Thank you for the chance, but I wasn’t her and could not pretend to be the same anymore.
I went through grief as I had never felt before. I stopped taking care of my health, because I felt, what was the point? I wasn’t going to get to be a mom in my mind and decided to just do whatever and however I wanted. I was so heartbroken I wasn’t focusing on anything positive. The people in my life kept trying to make me see it. However every item of baby clothing or stroller passing by brought me intense pain. I would begin to tear up at the mere sight.
After a few months, I came to accept that my babies were not here with me for some reason. I didn’t understand it, or want to understand it. I just came to a point of acceptance. I then began to write, paint, and draw out all my pain in an effort at self healing. I wrote something during one of my darkest periods that brought me the most comfort and had a profound healing effect on me.
I could not name this. There are no words. Loss cannot be described truly. Only felt.
“Even though I never got to know you.
Even though I never saw your beautiful face.
Even though I never got to hold you,
Or pretend to play rocketship in space…
Please know I love you.
We may not meet now
Even though the reasons are unclear…
I loved you anyhow
And in my heart you’ll always be near.
Please know I’ll be waiting for you.
I’ll write you lullaby’s.
I’ll dream sweet dreams of you
Until I can look in your pretty eyes.
Maybe the timing’s not for now
But I’ll see you somehow.
Because I already love you.
(Written by Crystal Stoner)
After writing this piece I began to heal. It was since then that I began truly writing. I found I could express myself better through words on a page than any I could ever say. I found an outlet for my pain, anger, guilt and eventually as you have read; hopes. I have never shared this poem until now. It’s one of the most personal and deepest of my heart I have ever penned. While growing and healing in Boomcast I’ve learned how sharing your story can heal others. So, if maybe, just maybe, it could help heal someone else, I’m sending this to the world now.
As I was healing my heart and my husband’s bit by bit, day by day, he was given an opportunity through his job. So, while on a business trip with my husband I began to feel unwell. I was so tired and emotional. I kept feeling so nauseated. I began to wonder… Could I be pregnant again? We were not trying to get pregnant and had used protection. Knowing we had used protection, I dismissed the idea. Until I kept feeling sick for days. I decided before I make a doctors appointment, to save myself the emotional rollercoaster, I would take an at home pregnancy test. Just to prove it to myself, that it wasn’t possible so don’t worry about it. It probably was just a stomach bug.
Well, the test said one word. Pregnant. I was immediately gripped with disbelief and fear. Not happiness or joy, just absolute terror. I had not been taking any prenatals or planning for this baby and I wasn’t truly healthy. I immediately called the doctor and was seen the next day. They confirmed my pregnancy and labeled me as high risk. I was put on hormonal supplements, like Progesterone. I had a very sick, worried, pregnancy. I was suddenly very superstitious, something I never was before. I was told to keep my activity to a bare minimum and believe me, I stuck to it. I was so afraid and still holding irrational guilt from my previous miscarriage. To make the sitting bearable, let’s just say, I read A LOT of books.
Nine months later, I was blessed with a healthy 8 pound, 5 ounces baby boy.
Five years after that I had another, and we are now blessed with two sons.
Not all miscarriage stories will get the happy ending mine was blessed with. However, in parting I just want to say, sometimes the best things in life appear when you stop trying to make them appear. A wondrous surprise may yet await.