My Miscarriage Story

These past two weeks have been anxiety-inducing, exciting, and heart wrenching. It all began when the tell-tale signs of pregnancy started creeping in. Nausea. Headaches. Extreme fatigue. Achy boobs. Overly sensitive nipples. I knew I was pregnant before it could ever show up on a pregnancy test.

In my post, Medication Sensitivity, I explained that I had my IUD (birth control device that is placed in the uterus) removed back in May due to making my anxiety and depression considerably worse. I had no intention of getting pregnant, but I knew I wouldn’t be upset if it were to happen so I felt comfortable and safe removing it without being put on another form of birth control right off the bat. Well, like I said, I began feeling pregnant in begin on July – well before I would have enough HCG to test positive on a home pregnancy test (hpt). Being the Anxious Annie I am, I started testing anyways. I took a test when I first started feeling off, negative. I took test a week later, negative. I took a test a week after that, baaaaarely positive. But it still was a positive – yay!

Initially I was so excited! I already have a 2.5 year old and I knew she would be so excited to be a big sister. I knew the rest of my family would also be excited for a new edition and I was definitely ready to experience the newborn stage all over again. I excitedly called my significant other and we gushed over the excitement of a new baby and that’s when he reminded me – it was still very early in the pregnancy and there was a significant risk of losing the baby in the next few months. I brushed it off because even though I knew the risk was very real, I didn’t believe it would happen to me. I’m relatively young, healthy, and had a perfect pregnancy previously – surely my risk of miscarriage was minimal.

After the initial excitement, I sat down on my bed and suddenly a wave of anxiety washed over me. How would I take of two children? How would my relationship with my oldest change? How will my family react? What if I can’t afford a second baby? Where will I put the crib? What am I going to do if it’s a boy? Are boy babies really that much more difficult than girl babies? Am I really ready for a second kid? Am I really ready to give birth again? What if something bad happens during my pregnancy? But thankfully, just as quickly as the anxiety set in, it washed away into the distance and I was back to being excited.

We happily told our families the exciting news and began looking (only looking!) at things we wanted for the new baby. A new crib was a must, along with diapers, outfits, and all the other cute new baby essentials. My morning sickness was a constant reminder of (and connection with) the new life forming inside my body. I was so excited and ready for this baby to be welcomed into the world. During a bout of shopping though, my excitement began shattering piece by piece.

I went to the bathroom (as most pregnant woman frequently do) and saw a small amount of spotting. Seeing the signature mark of an impending period sent my heart down to my feet. I was extremely upset in the few minutes it took me to Google what the heck was going on with me. I chalked it up to just being implantation bleeding and continued planning for the baby’s arrival in nine months.

But the spotting didn’t stop. It continued for several days and although it was never heavy enough to be considered “bleeding and I never had cramps, I had a horrible feeling I had lost the baby. I wasn’t as nauseous as I once was, my headaches weren’t as frequent, and my boobs didn’t ache anymore. As the bleeding continued, I decided it was best to put my mind at ease and see a doctor. Then I could get a definitive answer on whether to accept there would be no baby in March or to continue to prepare to become a mother of two.

After reviewing my symptoms, my doctor didn’t suspect that I had a miscarriage and that the spotting was a normal part of pregnancy. Still, the doctor felt a beta hcg blood test was the best way to see what was truly going on since I was still too early for an ultrasound. As I sat down in the lab chair and the tech stab my vein to draw up my blood, I had the same sinking feeling I had when I first saw the spotting. In the back of my mind, I knew the result wouldn’t be the one I wanted. I knew something was wrong, even though I desperately hoped the sense of doom was all in my head.

The following day, the spotting stopped and I received a phone call from my doctor. I’ll never forget him apologizing and saying my blood was negative for pregnancy. I must have had an early miscarriage and lost the baby. I played it off as if it wasn’t a big deal – I thanked him for his time and told I’d let him know if I needed anything else. I proceeded to tell my family the news, I ate my dinner, then I took a bath and just cried. I cried so hard over a baby who wasn’t even quite a baby yet. My baby who was probably only the size of a poppy seed or a sesame seed and nothing more than a clump of cells. But I had a connection with that clump of cells. I had the symptoms that told me “Hey! There’s life growing in here!” I feel that nausea. Those headaches. Those achy boobs. Those overly sensitive nipples. I was the one who felt the things that come with growing new life. And I’m the one that felt that all slip away from me.

Sure, it was unplanned. Unexpected. But not unwanted. I wanted that baby with everything I have. My significant other wanted that baby. My daughter wanted that baby. My family wanted that baby. But life doesn’t always give us what we want and I truly believe that everything happens for a reason. For whatever reason, that particular baby was never meant to be born. But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever forget that baby or the way it made me feel to know I was growing life inside me.

To anyone who has also had a miscarriage, my heart goes out to you. It hurts no matter how early in pregnancy you lose the baby. ❤️