Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month: A Mother's Story

When you look at the statistics of pregnancy and infant loss it can be surprising. Most people do not know that 1 in 4 women will experience pregnancy and/or infant loss in their childbearing years. I know that until I experienced it I was unaware of the statistics. The reason why most people don't know is because it is a sensitive subject that often is not talked about, or at least it wasn't until recent years. Due to the lack of discussion a lot of families feel alone in their grief. I know I did.
In November of 2012 I experienced my first pregnancy loss. I had, I thought, made it safely into my second trimester and so we decided to announce the news of a new addition to our families. We were so excited to have a new addition and news quickly spread. Not too long after that I had experienced a little spotting and thankfully was scheduled for my next appointment the following day. My husband normally didn't make it to appointments because of his schedule but said if his surgery case finished early he would drive over for it. As soon as I went to check in I notified the front desk that I did have some spotting the night before but hadn't had any since. They notified the doctor and she requested that they take me back to preform an ultrasound before my appointment. The ultrasound tech called me to the back and we began the scan. I requested that she turn the screen so I could see as well, and she reluctantly did so. As she placed the wand on my belly my eyes were already on the screen and I watched as she found the baby's heart and silent tears began to fill my eyes as I lay there alone looking at my precious little one laying so still with it's little heart just as quiet. The tech grabbed my hand because she knew that I knew and she started to talk but I didn't hear a word she was saying. The questions began in my head. The baby was fine on the last ultrasound, how did this happen? Why is this happening to me? What's next? The tech was gracious enough to let me sit in the ultrasound room until my husband arrived. As soon as he did I didn't even have to tell him as he saw my red tear stained face and hugged me and said it will be ok. We went next for my appointment. Because I was starting to get a low grade fever the doctor was concerned that I shouldn't wait too for my body to do things naturally but because I had eaten that day I wasn't able to get booked on her afternoon surgery schedule. And so she sent me home and I was scheduled for two days later. Those two days were some very emotionally difficult days. The next day I woke up in normal form of morning sickness with a quick run to the bathroom. As I sat there on the floor thoughts of why kept circling my brain. I decided we needed to get out of the house, so my son and I went to Target. As we were getting in the check out line the lady in front of me was giddy with excitement about the upcoming birth of her baby as she was buying some last minute items. I stood there, still pregnant myself, with my baby that was no longer alive and it became too much. I moved lines, quickly paid for our items and back home we went. Why were these constant reminders still there of me being pregnant when my baby would never get to come home with me? Those two days were two of the longest days of my life.
After my surgery I had to return to work after a week off. I thought I would be ok, however, working in the maternal child area of the hospital proved to be a struggle as well. Constantly surrounded by babies, mother's having babies, and taking care of them proved to be a difficult reminder of what I had just gone through.
We lost another baby in April of 2013 right before we moved to Seattle. Again I had to have another surgery. The grief and the darkness were very difficult. I found myself not wanting to talk to people, withdrawing more more. It was a very challenging time in my life. I had to move on, push forward for our son and our family but there were the days when my heart felt heavy.
We decided we were ready to try again and we were blessed with our daughter in November 2014. Every single day of that pregnancy it was in the back of my mind, would this one survive,  would we get to bring this baby home, will our son finally getting the sibling he so desperately asked for? Finally she arrived and it was the second best day of my life.
We lost one more baby in February of this year. It was a very different experience. Since we lived so close to my family at that time, my mom left work early the day I found out our little one's heart had stopped beating and though I had already miscarried the baby by the time she got to our apartment nothing felt better than a hug from her. It was a hard thing to deal with being home by myself with our two kids but the beautiful thing about that was that I did in fact still have them.
People say funny things when they find out you are miscarrying. Trying to be supportive and find something to say they pick words that unfortunately can still be hurtful. It used to make me so sad when after our first pregnancy loss someone would say well at least you have your son be thankful for that. As if I was in fact not aware how blessed I was to have him. I would get angry because it was as if the baby I carried for four months didn't matter. Another difficult thing is being pregnant with people at the same time and losing your baby. I was pregnant with one of my oldest friends one time with just a week separating our due dates. Two days after I lost my baby she had texted that she had her appointment and baby had a good strong heart beat and was doing well. I was so happy for her but a part of me felt like I had been stabbed in the heart. It's never easy being the one who loses the baby. It has made me more sensitive about sharing my own pregnancies when they are successful because I know what it's like to be on the other end.
I did a lot better after the third baby we lost. I clung to my faith and my family leaning on both for support. I know that though we cannot always understand the things that happen to us and the trials we face in this life, there is a bigger plan. I still think about those babies we lost. I remember the exact day I found out each of them had died and their due dates. Those dates pass every year and though no one else remembers, I do. I say a quiet prayer for them and keep them in my heart. They were real. They existed. They are a part of my story. And they always will be.