Just a few days ago, I suffered my first miscarriage. I was 12 weeks along, and everything happened on the same day we planned on telling our friends back home. We were only a few weeks shy of announcing it to the world. Coping with this loss and experience has been the hardest thing I have ever had to do, but I am choosing to share this journey to help others who have or who will go through a similar one. You are not alone.
Below is our story in the form of a letter written by me to our angel baby born into Heaven. I’m not sure when I will be back to post again… but I will.
Thank you for all of the love, prayers, and support. xo
Dear Baby H,
Oh, how you are loved.
I will never forget the day you rocked our world and showed up in the form of a positive pregnancy test. After a year of trying (and several boxes of negative pregnancy tests), no one was more surprised to find out that I was going to become a mother than me. It was Thanksgiving Day, and for whatever reason, I just had to take a test that morning.
I wanted to wait and tell your daddy over a romantic dinner later that weekend, but I couldn’t hold it together. I was just too excited. Together, we spent the holiday with my mom, only the secret of you in my belly was kept between the two of us.
I was so protective of you.
I remember the feeling I had going into my first barre class after we found out. I wanted to stay in shape to have a healthy, active pregnancy, but I was scared to death to do anything to harm you. I researched the dos and don’ts of barre and then working out for hours. Days even. I read articles, revisited bookmarked blog posts, and finally broke down and asked the barre studio owner exactly what I should and shouldn’t be doing while pregnant. She was very helpful and assured me that nothing I was doing would put you in danger.
I continued taking barre classes, and I slowly got back to a somewhat normal routine at the gym when my membership ended. Actually, it wasn’t normal at all. I stopped running outside (mostly in fear of slipping on ice), I put my intense workouts on the back burner, and I checked my heart rate monitor every five seconds to make sure I was still in the safe zone and wasn’t stressing you out.
It was such a relief when we made it to Week 8. Your daddy and I couldn’t wait to go to the doctor’s office and see you for the very first time. I had experienced ultrasounds before (to help track ovulation), but this was the first time I went in knowing I was going to see something there. You.
I will never, ever forget the look on your daddy’s face when we saw you right there on the screen. The tech was so excited to tell me all about you and pointed out your heart just fluttering away. And then, just when we thought the moment couldn’t have gotten any more emotional, we heard your heartbeat. It was strong and the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. I was so in love with you already.
We took the sonogram pictures home with us and could not wait to share them with our families and friends.
We spent our entire Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and the weekend telling our friends in Michigan and families via Skype. We decided to wait and share the news with all of our friends back home until our next doctor’s appointment, since they wouldn’t be the ones noticing that I didn’t have my normal cup of coffee or glass of wine in social settings.
I knew I wanted to journal my pregnancy with you from the very beginning.
I started drafting weekly recaps to later share on this blog, and I enjoyed writing them so, so much. I couldn’t wait for the day that I could look back and show you how much you grew and changed our lives week by week.
Daddy and I prayed with you every morning and every night. There wasn’t an hour that passed by in our days that we didn’t talk about you. Thanks to him and a group of friends, you somehow inherited the nickname “Burl” because we didn’t know if you were going to be a boy or a girl. I wasn’t crazy about it, but the name stuck. Daddy insisted on talking to and even praying for “Baby Burl” to keep growing healthy, happy, and strong.
Your ninth week sure was fun! Mommy and daddy were both in a very special wedding where we eventually ended up telling some of our closest friends up here in Michigan. Once again, I was being questioned about keeping my distance from the champagne and wine during a week of celebrations, so we caved. They were so happy!
We started receiving gifts for you by your tenth week. Everyone was so excited for you to get here, and so were we!
Everything seemed perfect until Week Eleven… that’s when I had my first scare with you. I started spotting (lightly) at work, but I read it was normal during the first trimester, so I calmed myself down and carried on with my day. It didn’t let up the next day, so I took it easy. I let clients handle more of their own weights, and I sat down with my feet up whenever I could.
By the third day of spotting, I really started to worry. I called the doctor and explained what was going on, but at that time, I was still only spotting and our 12 week check up was in the books just two days later. I was put on bed rest until then and instructed to go to the hospital if anything got worse.
I took it extremely easy the next day, and Daddy and I loved on you so much. We prayed and prayed for everything to be okay and tried not to worry too much. Pray as we might, we just knew that something wasn’t right later that night. The spotting turned into bleeding, and we were scared. We chose not to go to the hospital because of the horror stories from friends (and ridiculous medical bills that come with them). Instead, I went to sleep in Daddy’s arms and he propped my legs up to make sure I stayed asleep with my feet up the entire night.
We weren’t sure what the doctor was going to say, but we couldn’t get in that examination room soon enough the next day. When they found out I was bleeding, they rushed us in for an ultrasound… and then it happened. We saw you, but the expression on the tech’s face was a somber one. Your daddy looked at me with tears in his eyes and said that you looked different. He didn’t see a heartbeat, but I didn’t believe him.
The tech left the room to get the doctor and we both started bawling. My worst fear happened. As soon as the doctor walked in, I knew you were gone. They went back and forth taking screenshots of the scans and finally explained what they were looking at. According to them, you only made it between eight and nine weeks.
We’ll never know why you didn’t stay with us, or why it took my body almost three weeks to tell us what was going on, but what I do know is that the twelve weeks we thought we had with you were absolutely magical.
Daddy took this picture of us three days before everything changed, and we will always cherish how much you meant to us… then and forever.
After we heard the news that we’d lost you, the doctor asked us if we wanted to schedule a D&C. Going home to just sit and wait for a miscarriage to happen sounded like a horrible form of torture, so we made an appointment to have the procedure the next morning. She warned us, however, that it could happen naturally before we went in… and it did.
Light cramping turned into heavy cramping, and I experienced contractions, heavy bleeding, and passing tissue for four hours. The doctor explained that my body thought I was going through labor, and that is the only way I can explain it. I like to think that it was your way of prepping me for the arrival of your future brothers/sisters. I spent the night in the bathroom, and eventually, I went to sleep in your daddy’s arms in the fort that he built us on the floor. He was so brave and comforting through it all.
I woke up the next morning feeling empty. I knew our time with you had come to a close, and that we really had to say goodbye to you. I don’t think either of us had ever cried as much as we did in those few private minutes.
After the procedure, I was handed a book that will hopefully answer a lot of our questions. I haven’t read it yet, but I will. I did, however, see the bookmark that was made for you and me.
The tattoo I got over a year and a half ago will now always remind me of you.
It breaks our hearts to know that we will never get the chance to meet you in this world. It will take me a long time to recover from losing you, but we will never, ever stop loving you.
You will always be our incredible baby, and we cannot wait to hug you in Heaven one day.
Until then, Sweet Baby H.
All the love in the world,