Miscarriage

We were supposed to welcome our fourth baby this month. Today, June 21st, was our due date. I should have a tiny newborn in my arms today, savoring that sweet baby smell, planting kisses, taking him or her to my breast…Today I should be posting photos of our growing family, sharing and celebrating our fourth baby with family and friends. Instead, all I have to share is a broken heart.

Ryan and I found out we were pregnant last October. While it was a bit of a surprise, we were thrilled about adding on to our family and the possibility of a baby girl. I started thinking of names, would the baby look like his brothers, will I finally become a girl mom? There was a little panic thinking about having four children, but with each day I could not be more excited about the baby growing in my belly.

My first prenatal appointment was scheduled at 10 weeks. Right around 7 weeks, I started noticing something was off. I did not “feel” pregnant, no symptoms at all. Then the bleeding started…

I called my OB and they had me come in for an ultrasound. Ryan joined me. I was feeling very anxious but holding on to hope that everything was fine. I climbed up in the chair and my doctor prepared for the ultrasound. She found baby and we waited to hear that longed for sound of a pitter-patter heartbeat. Static. My doctor tried moving the wand around, but more static. My uneasiness and anxiety skyrocketed as I prayed hard to myself. Still nothing. My doctor said it was still early but did give me the hard truth this could be a miscarriage. I would return in 10 days for another ultrasound.

Those ten days happened to land right around Thanksgiving when we traveled back to Ohio. In a way it was a good thing because I could distract myself with family time and holiday festivities. I was physically feeling okay, but mentally struggling if the baby I was carrying was growing or not. I pushed through with the support and love of my husband and family, continued to pray hard, and remained hopeful.

The day arrived when we would know for sure. My stomach was in knots because I think deep down, I knew God took this little one home. I laid back on the crinkly paper preparing myself for the worst news. And it came.

“I am so sorry.” My doctor explained about the lack of a heartbeat and that baby’s growth ceased weeks ago. Tears immediately filled my eyes, and I began to think about what I did wrong. My doctor assured me it was nothing I did, and that 25 percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage. The odds were literally against me. I felt angry, confused, and devastated over losing the baby I never had a chance to meet.

We discussed options and I decided to have a D&C procedure. It was the best decision for me physically and emotionally at the time. It was scheduled on December 1, 2022. I have never had anesthesia before so experienced high anxiety about this procedure. I was also still grieving my lost child knowing I would no longer be physically connected to my baby.

The procedure was over and done rather quickly, and I went straight home to rest. I felt empty and sad. Knowing I was no longer pregnant was a terrible feeling. Baby announcements on social media were tough. That was supposed to be me…

As time went on, I began to find some peace. I knew in my heart this was God’s plan for us and He is keeping our little one happy and safe in heaven. We have three incredible boys whom light up our lives each day. I found joy again.

Now that my due date is here, the peace has shifted, and I find myself grieving again. I was supposed to be 40 weeks pregnant today. Tiny baby clothes neatly folded in a drawer. The name picked out. The crib assembled. Anticipating the moment that the boys meet their little brother or sister for the first time…I knew today would be painful. My heart aches to hold my newborn in my arms. I can’t help but feel sad over what “should be” today.

I also think this journey has been especially difficult because it is very likely that our family is complete. I thank God every day for how lucky I am to have my three beautiful boys and this gratitude has grown deeper since going through this.

No matter how many children you have, miscarriage is horrible. My heart breaks for all the women who have experienced this pain. Like I said above, it makes me all the more thankful for the healthy children I do have, and the family God blessed me with. I remain faithful in His plan for us.

I never thought I would share this with anyone besides close family and friends let alone on a public blog for everyone to read. Please know I am not sharing for sympathy but simply honesty. I think writing about it is a way of releasing my feelings and working through them. Maybe somebody reading this can resonate, feel some sort of connection, and know they are not alone. While I share many joyful moments on this blog, that is simply not the way of life all the time. Life gets hard, messy, and sad.

So, if you have made it this far, thank you so much for reading and taking the time to listen to my heart today. It truly means a lot.

Rest in peace, little one. I love you, always and forever.