Miscarriage

I have been debating for a few weeks whether or not to write this blog.  I really didn't want to, but at the same time, I really did.  Since the debate has raged within my mind on an almost daily basis, I figured the best way to calm the beast was to memorialize the event.  Now, whether I publish this remains to be seen.  I do know that when I was going through it, other's accounts were helpful.

Thomas left for his deployment in September.  He was allowed one visit, which he took in November.  It was early, but we had just moved into a new house and he wanted to see it and he missed us.  After that visit, I wasn't expecting to see him again until June.  Then, one Saturday morning he called and said he would be flying in on Tuesday and staying for a week!

A few weeks after that fun visit, I was at Chick-Fil-A with the kids.  All of a sudden, I started noticing cute babies around the restaurant.  Then, we went to Target and I felt the urge to take a stroll down the baby aisle (a place I hadn't visited in at least 2 years).  At that point I knew something strange was happening and started doing some math.  I had a (very old) pregnancy test left over from the Kara days.  It had somehow survived 3 moves and 4.5 years.  I took the positive result in stride and didn't even tell Thomas about it.  I convinced myself that the test was defective.  The next day, I bought some more tests.  They all came back positive.  That night I told Thomas and we began to get excited.

I hadn't been sure I wanted another child.  I felt fortunate to have three healthy children and felt like a fourth might be pushing our luck, particularly since at 35, I was now of "advanced maternal age".  Also, the three we have are so close in age that it's almost like triplets--there are only 16 months between the twins and Kara, while another baby would be close to 5 years behind.  Mostly, I was feeling pretty content with our life.  Diapers were a thing of the past.  Everyone slept all night and we were just over a year from having them all in kindergarten.  We had discussed having another, but hadn't reach a conclusion when this happened.

But, now that "this" had happened, I started thinking of all the positives: how fun would it be to have just one baby to focus on?  We'd never had that before.  And, Anna, Jack and Kara would make great big brother/sisters.  And, we would get to experience all those amazing firsts again!

Shortly after that, I began to feel pregnant.  I was winded climbing just one flight of stairs and my heart rate was at least 10 bpm higher than normal (I wear a heart rate monitor when I exercise).  I even started to feel differently lying on my stomach.  I had frequent headaches and felt nauseous.  Then, suddenly, I didn't feel nauseous.  This was a red flag to me because I have a pretty weak stomach.  I was very sick with my other two pregnancies.  But, I tried to convince myself that I was just lucky and that everything was fine.  Really though, I knew it wasn't.

Right around my 8th week I started spotting.  I will spare you most of the gory details, but I will say that miscarriages are not what I thought.  For some inexplicable reason I thought with an early miscarriage, your body would just absorb the embryo.  Instead, I had several days of severe cramping and more than a week of bleeding (I had decided to let my body handle it naturally as opposed to having a D&C).  It started on a Thursday night and I had a very miserable weekend.  On Tuesday morning, the embryo came out and all of the physical pain dissipated.   Even though I had known I was in the process of a miscarriage, it still caught me by surprise to see what would have been our baby.  I called Thomas in a hysterical manner.  Obviously, this was upsetting to him and he went to tell his Commanding Officer that he needed to leave for a few hours.  His CO saw how distraught Thomas was and Thomas was forced to tell him what was going on.  In a true act of kindness, he insisted that Thomas come home.  He then made all the arrangements for Thomas to get on a plane that afternoon.  It was not something we had even thought to ask for, but I was so grateful to have my supportive husband with me.

After it was over, I was amazed at the range of reactions we received.  Of course, since it was so early in the pregnancy, there were not a lot of people who knew.  One of the reactions was hurtful--suggesting it was not a big deal and that if it weren't for a pregnancy test taken way too early, I probably wouldn't have even known it was happening (missing two periods might have clued me in, even if the nausea didn't).  But, I was also strengthened by the compassion of others, including the immense kindness showed us by Thomas' boss.  I am so thankful for my sister and her empathetic way of listening.  I told another of my friends who was also a sympathetic listener and had been through a miscarriage herself.  It felt good to talk about it and to express my wide range of emotions.  Why is it that we can talk freely of our illnesses but it feels so taboo to talk about a miscarriage?  Certainly, it is more personal than a stomach virus, but I think it also requires more support and understanding, which we can't receive unless we are willing to express the need.

So, here we are three weeks later.   I still feel guilty, like I could have prevented this from happening:  I exercised too hard, I ate raw cookie dough and cold lunch meat.  I will never know if these had any effect on our baby, but I can't help but think about it (please don't leave any reassurances on this, there is nothing anyone can say that will make me feel differently).  Immediately after the miscarriage, Thomas and I  decided that we would try again.  However, now I am not so sure.  I don't want to ever go through this again and things really are nice with the 3 we are blessed to have.  I do wish I was pregnant right now, but if this had to happen, I am glad it did so before my first ultrasound.  Thankfully, I never saw or heard the heartbeat.