mama story: Jessica


Jessica is a sweet friend of mine from back in North Carolina.

She talks about how society has the habit of telling early miscarriage sufferers that they are "barely" pregnant (I had the same thing said to me during an ultrasound). Oh how I wish everyone would just recognize that a baby, no matter how small, is a BABY! 

Jessica has a beautiful story, give it a read and show your support. I'm sure you will find at least one aspect of her story that you can relate to, it hit home on so many levels for me.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I'm not sure how to start my story. It's taken me sometime to really sit down and put into words exactly what went on. I've never been the type of person that is good at remembering every little detail especially when it comes to dates and times. Honestly if it weren't for the hospital papers I wouldn't know exactly what day it was. I know that sounds terrible when it comes to recalling a miscarriage but the whole experience seems like such a blur at times; just a bad dream. What I can promise you is that I do remember the emotional and physical aspect of it all. Those memories stick and honestly I don't think will ever go away. Here is my story. 

I still think about that day like it was just yesterday. It happened March 5, 2015. I was 5 weeks along with my first baby. The only ones who knew I was expecting was of course my husband and 2 close work friends who knew we were trying to conceive. I knew about the risk of miscarriage but I never thought I would become a statistic. We knew of the probability that it could happen so we hadn't told our families yet. I never thought when we did tell them it would be for different reasons.

I was about to lay down for bed and went to the bathroom as usual. I was spotting. It wasn't a heavy bleeding but of course I started freaking out. Google gave me all sorts of reasons why I may be bleeding this early on, including miscarriage. I told my husband with tears in my eyes that I was bleeding all while trying to not have a panic attack. We both tried reassuring ourselves that it was ok, it was only light and if I was still bleeding in the morning I would go to the doctor. I knew that if I was having a miscarriage that going in at that moment wasn't going to make a difference. Nature was going to take its course.

I hardly slept at all that night. I got up the next morning and the bleeding was still very light and hardly there anymore. I had just a small slither of hope. I wasn't cramping or hurting. I decided to go on in to the doctor anyway. Not trying to worry my husband, I told him it was okay, he could go on in to work and I would just go to the doctor by myself. I haven't even had a chance to schedule my first appointment yet with the ob/gyn so I had to go to my primary care doctor. I was an anxious, nervous wreck. My mind was racing and I knew I didn't really want to hear what the doctor was going to tell me. My primary doctor did a vaginal exam. There was still blood so she wanted me to go and have blood work done and an ultrasound just to check things out. I think she knew then I was miscarrying and so did I. My heart dropped at that moment. She did her best to make it seem like it was nothing and that it could be old blood from my previous period but I knew that wasn't it.

I got back in my car and called my husband. All I wanted was him there. Trying to be brave and strong by myself was not happening at this moment. Reality was setting in. I couldn't face having to go to the hospital for the ultrasound by myself. I was scared and heart broken. He finally met me at the hospital. I think he knew when he saw me what was going on but I honestly don't think he believed it was really happening or at least didn't want it to be happening. By the time we were waiting for the tech, my bleeding had finally increased and I started having stomach pains. We were finally called back. Because I wasn't but 5 weeks an internal ultrasound was done. I couldn't see the screen and the tech never said anything to us. All I remember is laying there so vulnerable and so uncomfortable with tears in my eyes, knowing that at that moment my baby was no longer with us. I long now for an ultrasound of our first little miracle to look back on.

Every jab to my uterus felt like a stab to the heart. I remember there being so much blood after changing back into my clothes and knowing that was the end of my baby's life. When we walked out the hospital I just remember holding my husband and crying. When we got back home I just laid in bed and cried. We had to go back in 3 days (Sunday) for bloodwork to check my levels. I kept waiting for at least one of the doctors from the primary care office to call with results but they never did by the end of the day on Friday.

Over the weekend, we decided to tell our families what was going on. When we told my in laws, my heart sunk again because they were so excited that we were pregnant but in the same breath I had to tell them I was having a miscarriage. They were all supportive and encouraging but it was still all so devastating. My mother in law even told me she had a miscarriage before having my husband but no matter what anyone said, I never felt better. By the time I went back in for bloodwork I was so over being poked and prodded and just wanted it to all be over. Crazy me thought I could actually go to work Monday. As soon as I pull in to work I get the call from my primary doctor. And just like I knew, we had miscarried. My levels were already negative so my sweet little one was officially gone. I went in long enough to tell my supervisor what was going on, barely getting the words out and went back home.

The days and weeks to follow were even harder than I ever thought they would be. I had so many emotions between guilt, sadness, and anger. I kept thinking it was something I did wrong. Did I over exert myself? Did I eat something I shouldn't have? Why me? Why God? Was I not a faithful enough Christian so God is punishing me? I couldn't even be around babies or anyone pregnant. A women came in to work with her newborn baby months after the miscarriage and I couldn't even look at her or hold the baby. I felt so bad but I was dying all over again inside. After she left I completely lost it, tears flooding out.

And my poor husband. This didn't just effect me. I had to remember he was going through a loss too. Although his wasn't as physical as mine, he also lost his first child. We never really talked about it too much but I know it tore him up inside as well.

There are so many aspects of this miscarriage that I can't explain and unless you've been there, you just can't grasp what it all does to you. I remember in the months that followed when I had a good day I would immediately feel guilty cause I felt like it meant I was forgetting what I lost.

It's been so hard to sit down and write this story not only because it was so tragic and upsetting but because I didn't feel like it was significant enough. Society told me I was "barely" pregnant. I wasn't that far along so it's not that big of a deal and it doesn't count. I didn't have a picture or anything for a memorial of my loss. When people asked when it happened I had to always think so hard to remember the exact date and that made me feel even worse. I must be such a terrible person for not remembering the date of such a horrible event. All I dwelled on was how I felt and what it did to me emotionally and physically. I had almost convinced myself that I hadn't lost anything. But how great is my God that He tells me otherwise. It doesn't matter how far along I was. It doesn't matter if I remember the date and time without hospital papers to remind me. I was pregnant. I was carrying a life inside me. A life God gave me and He took away. For whatever His reasons are, I may never know, but He blessed me with my first little miracle even if it was for a little while. We have since been blessed with our rainbow baby boy born in August 2016 sharing his daddy's birthday. He has brought so much joy and healing to our family. I can't wait for the day I'm able to tell him about his sibling in heaven, his forever guardian angel and he understand what that means. In the meantime his dad and I will continue to raise him with God's guidance and forever hold dear to the memory of when God first made us Mommy and Daddy.