Emily's Birth Story: An All Natural Birth

Friday (the 11th) of May, 10 days before Mary's due date, Isaac and I played a fun round of Phase Ten and went to bed.  At 11:30 that night, I woke up because of a contraction.  The contraction felt different to me than any other I had ever felt.  It HURT. Badly.  I woke Isaac up, and waited for two more of those contractions in bed before getting up to put a robe on.  I wanted to walk around and drink water to see if they would go away.  They didn't!  We called the midwife.  I talked to her until I would have a contraction, at which point Isaac would take over and talk.  She said to wait an hour or half an hour to see if they stayed and if they remained consistent.  I decided to blow dry my hair (it was still damp from my shower, earlier), and put my makeup on.  I had a distinct feeling that these were truly labor contractions.  (What I didn't know was that I was in active labor, dilated to a 7 and 100% effaced.)  I was feeling a TON of pressure, but because I had never been in labor before - I thought that the first stages of labor were supposed to feel this way...and I wondered what was in store for the night!

Half an hour came, and my contractions were a minute apart, so painful, and lasting over a minute each.  I need to say here that the pain of labor cannot be described…… only because it is not like getting a cut or a broken arm.  It is something entirely different.  It is all-encompassing, it feels like a lot of pressure, and it is WONDERFUL.  It is wonderful because the pain and the pressure give you strength and love, because you know that your sweet, perfect baby is coming to bring you all of the joy in the world!!

I called my mother, who jumped in the car to drive to Utah.  We began driving to the hospital.  I didn’t like the contractions I had in that seemingly long car ride.  I didn’t know how far along I was in the labor process, but being cramped up in the seat of a car, unable to stretch out was uncomfortable, to put it mildly. Isaac was so wonderful as he drove the car.  I was at peace, even at the ridiculous red lights (although, we only had about two).  We arrived at the emergency room entrance, and had to stop while another contraction came.   The nice old man at the emergency room immediately got a wheelchair for me and quickly wheeled me to the maternity wing.  He told me that we ought to name our baby girl after him (Bruce).  He was nice. 

I requested the birthing room that had the laboring pool.  It was open!  It seemed as if no one was there that night – it was so peaceful at the hospital.  The nurse gave me a gown and Isaac and I tried to put it on, but my contractions were so strong, I couldn’t think clearly, let alone move very much – so we paged the nurse and she helped me into the gown.  Another contraction came, and I leaned against the wooden cabinet and asked Isaac softly, “What if I want an epidural?”  It hurt!  I can’t remember what he said, but he comforted me.  I do remember him saying that it is my choice, whatever I want to do.  Without thinking, as more contractions came, I got into the bed. 

The nurse started taking my vitals and monitoring Mary’s heartbeats.  It made me so happy to hear them.  Suddenly, I felt the need to push.   I did.  The nurse checked me to see how dilated I was.  I was at a 7.  Other nurses came in and introduced themselves to me.  They were all so sweet and nice.  There were four nurses in all, and they stayed with me the whole time.  One of the nurses suggested something for me – for which I will be forever grateful.  She and Isaac would push hard on my bent knees, so as to put pressure on my pelvic bone against the bed.  It seemed to relieve some of the pain.  A nurse called my midwife, who was there in about half an hour, at which point she took over the knee-pushing for the other nurse.  Isaac continued doing it too.  I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had gotten a bruise on his chest from pushing so hard!  At that point, the urges to push were coming with each contraction.  I welcomed them.  They gave me something to focus on, other than the contraction, and it felt better to just bear down and push, rather than go through a contraction, not being able to do anything about it.  Between the contractions, I would just lay silently, gathering the energy I knew I would need for the next contraction.  When I would feel a contraction come, each time I would say quietly, “Okay”, and they would push on my knees and I would bear down until the contraction was over, and then I would lay, silently recovering and saving my energy and focus for the next one.  There was a good spirit in the room.  I had come prepared with my birth plan, and the nurses (and midwife) supported that.  The lights were dimmed, the temperature was comfortable, and the nurses were silent, supportive spectators. 

I didn’t want an IV, so I decided that I would self-hydrate.  Between each contraction, I would take a couple of sips of water, and that seemed to help me quite a bit.  I loved the feeling of the cold ice-water going down my throat, as if it was energy filling me up.  It felt so wonderful.   Each time I pushed, progress was made.

At some point I remember asking if my water had broken yet.  The midwife told me to reach down and feel. As I did, I could feel the amniotic sac coming out of me – still intact and not broken.  What a strange feeling that was!  The next few times of pushing, I felt extreme pressure.  I could feel Mary coming!  She was crowning.  The next few pushes were the most intense, amazing things I have ever felt in my life.  I have never felt so much pressure, nor have I ever focused on one thing so perfectly in my entire life.

Her head was out, and I pushed again, and her shoulders were out.  I could hear her crying – the most beautiful sound to my ears.  I vaguely remember the midwife saying, “Emily, grab your baby!”  I reached down, and pulled little Mary out of me, and held her close.  I can’t describe my feelings.  I felt so happy and my mind was so clear and relieved.  I was holding a perfect baby girl in my arms – our baby girl.  I felt so empowered! I had done this all on my own.  I had always thought I had a low threshold for pain, and I feared giving birth immensely, but I did it!  I would do it again that way too.  I always want to be able to feel childbirth.  Even though it may be painful, the other feelings that come from doing it all on your own and listening to and trusting in your body, powerfully overwhelm and supersede the pain.  I look back and marvel at the fact that (besides that moment of doubt in myself before getting onto the bed) I never once thought to ask for pain medication.  Interventions of any kind never once passed through my head.  This was just something I had to do, and do it I did!

After Isaac cut the cord, we watched our little baby and marveled at her beauty and perfection.  The midwife stitched me up (in two places), and the other nurses in the room congratulated me and told me how well I did and how calm I was.  After feeding her for the first time, which was a very sweet experience in itself, I handed her over to one of the nurses and she measured, weighed, cleaned off, and examined Mary – who was announced to be in perfect condition.  Her head wasn’t even cone shaped nor was she discolored or anything – probably because she wasn’t in the birth canal for very long.  In total, my labor was two hours long – 90 minutes (from start to finish).  From the time I got the hospital and Mary was born, it was an hour and ten minutes.  I think I beat my mom’s record (for her first child’s labor). 

My mom got there about an hour later, and was a happy new grandmother!  After about two hours of (unnecessary, in my opinion) monitoring of the both of us, we were able to go to the room where we would spend the next following day and night.  I don’t think I slept at all the remainder of that night.  All I could do was stare at my little girl.  It’s amazing how quickly the hours went by. 

Morning came, and Isaac went to his EMT class (I made him go.  Hospitals are so boring!), and my mother went to my great aunt’s home to shower and eat and do some grocery shopping for me.  I could barely walk.  I could barely shift in the bed.  I was a little swollen.  I still didn’t sleep. How could I?  There was a tiny angel in the room – and she was ours.  Later, my aunt, great aunt, and grandmother came for a visit.  My aunt brought us a beautiful potted plant and a teddy bear.  It was so fun to sit around and visit with them as they cooed over Mary.  They sang Happy Birthday to her and cried.  It was very sweet.  My mom showed up as well and we took a four generation photo.  Then, Isaac showed up, and ate lunch. 

Holding his little girl

The remainder of the day is a bit of a blur to me now.  I know that Isaac rested a little bit, and I tried to nurse Mary.  For some reason, every time I brought her to me to nurse, she would almost immediately fall asleep.  It was like that all day.  The nurses were very concerned – to the point that it made me nervous as well.  My mother said that it was fine and very normal.  Babies usually sleep a LOT in their first few days, because of all of the chaos and newness of their new life, but having the nurses hovering around concerned, didn’t help me much. 

Later that evening, they took her to the nursery and put a tube down her throat into her stomach to remove the contents of her stomach, in case she accidentally swallowed amniotic fluid while coming through the birth canal.  It was so hard to watch that – I cried.  She was so brave and strong.  (Later, I discovered that it was totally unnecessary.)  After that, we wheeled her back to our room, and she took a long nap, after which, she nursed! For seven minutes!  After that, she did pretty well.  Our last night in the hospital, I didn’t sleep either.  Maybe a wink here and there, but that beautiful baby girl had my complete attention.  I couldn’t stop looking at her, and I looked forward to the moment she would wake up and I could feed her again.

I loved holding her and examining her perfect little features!  On the most perfect Sunday, we were able to take our daughter home.  I became a mother on Mother’s day, and have never looked back.  I cherish the moments I have with my little girl and I am only beginning to recognize my calling as a wife and mother.  This is the greatest adventure of all!

If you have any questions for Emily about her experience, please comment below!

Natalie's Miscarriage- "Because I Trust Him"

I had a miscarriage in February this year. At first this was really hard for me because I have wanted kids since basically we got married. I was that one wife that was always baby hungry! And when we decided to start trying I could not get pregnant soon enough. So, we found out in January we were pregnant and not even a month later after hearing a heart beat and everything the baby was gone. I don't know much to explain about it other than it happened and it was an awful experience on my body, hormones and all, but I have learned so much from it. And I mean spiritually because there's not much I want to learn about miscarriages.

Let me start by saying that from the beginning I was a nervous wreck. And every time we went to the doctor there was something off. I understand that doctors want to put everything out in the open so they don't have to cover their backs later but it was little things like "well you're measuring a week behind so maybe because you were irregular this is why"..."it's possible you ovulated off schedule"..."the baby's heartbeat is low"..."but your hcg is fine, so the baby could be fine"...."We can't know till next week so come back then for another ultrasound and we'll tell you."  How do you just say those things?!?!

Anyways, I get it. I don't blame them. But I went back to that appointment which was the first one I went alone to. Ray and I had a conversation about it that morning and I felt pretty good. I felt like God knew what I wanted and he was going to make sure I was okay and that meant the baby was okay. But I was wrong. That's the thing about God. He doesn't do what we want to happen...unless it's what best for us. And sometimes we forget this.

I laid on that bench and I am happy and excited. We're talking and I'm looking at the screen thinking, "man that thing grew, it looks bigger than last time." The technician hesitated. She searched around on the screen for a while and then she said, " I'm so sorry. I can't find a heartbeat. I'm so sorry."  I can't even breathe. I can't even move or think or talk. She says go ahead and get dressed and the doctor will meet you. She says sorry again and leaves. She has an awkward job. (I feel bad for her looking back at it.) I still don't know what to think so I just start going through the motions. "Okay this lady obviously isn't good at her job because she heard a heartbeat last time. What's different now?" I go in the waiting room. I still can't cry because I'm in denial. Ray isn't even here so I know this can't be happening.

They call my name and put me in a room. They take my blood pressure or something and then leave and act like nothing is wrong. "The doctor will be right with you she says." And I lose it. I can feel it. I know it's real. The baby is gone. I'm crying. No, I'm bawling. I'm embarrassed and I am trying to stop myself so the doctor doesn't feel awkward and just when I could contain myself she is here.

But she can't even look at me. She just jumps right into it. I know she feels bad but she should say something then. Instead she is asking me questions like if I had any bleeding or spotting or anything unusual. No I say, nothing is different. Then she gives me three options for "the removal". I can have a D&C, which is expensive. Wait it out and flush it naturally, or take medicine to make it come out quickly. She tells me it could be unsafe to do it naturally because it could take a while and according to my tests the baby died sometime after my last ultrasound and most likely it was even that same day. This is bad because it can cause a lot of damage on my body not to mention it's already been a week and no sign of a miscarriage...so obviously I'm going to take the medicine.

I call Ray and he takes the day off. We go to get the prescription and they girl is looking at us weird. Do you know what this does? Do you know how it works? We say yes the doctor explained it. So she says to call if we have questions and we leave. I don't wanna take it. I keep having this feeling what if we were wrong? But I know we weren't because I was there and I saw. No blood flow to the baby and no heart beat.

Its time to take the medicine so I read the label. This medicine is prescribed for ABORTIONS. I lose it again. How am I just suppose to take this medicine after that? I feel like a terrible person. Like I am killing my child. But Ray tells me it's not my fault and I'm not hurting the baby and I have to take this medicine or my body can get really messed up. Its not the same thing. The doctor said it was the best option after all. But I don't know if I trust her or not now, she didn't even tell me what kind of medicine this was!!!!! But I trust Ray. So I take it. And it forces me to have contractions. And I'm throwing up and I'm on Oxycodone at the same time for pain so I'm loopy and I don't know what's what. and then after about a week of bleeding my child out it's over.  It feels so insensitive to see that I just flushed my once-child down the toilet. I feel like I should be burying it. But that's crazy. And some people don't even think that at this stage it could even be considered a child. Don't get me started on that. There was a heartbeat. Distinct heartbeat. At 7 weeks, given I didn't get this baby for long enough to bond for long. But I was starting to become a mother. I was forming habits and thinking and preparing for this little being to be mine but now it's gone.

I don't blame God. I'm not even angry. At least not at first. At first I am just numb. I rarely even cry actually, because I am just going through the motions. But a week or two later it sinks in. While I'm back at work and I think about how I still have to work until the end of the year! And when I see people who are in high school and get pregnant without even trying!!! And when people ask me when are you going to have kids?! Why don't you have kids yet?! ARE YOU SERIOUS? DO YOU KNOW WHAT I JUST WENT THROUGH? Stop asking when I am going to have kids.

That phase lasted a few days and then I really started to pray. I am not an angry person and I hated the way I felt. I was angry all the time. I needed closure and to move on. I asked Ray for a blessing and he gave me one. I cried and cried and felt a little better. I decided I needed to study about the Plan of Salvation a little more. And then for the next week it seemed like that's all I ever heard about! A few days later I was visiting teaching and it hit me like a ton of bricks. God knows my desire to be a mother and it will happen but not on my time, it will happen on his time. It was so comforting.

I felt like it all made sense again. Maybe this experience was more of a sign for me to see that Heavenly Father is aware of what I want and what I need. I was always scared that I would not be able to get pregnant. And now I know I can. Maybe that sounds blasphemous but it really helps me to feel better. I know that now I am only an instrument in his hands to teach his children to return to him. This will happen some day, but I needed to learn this principle about the Lords timing and about The Plan of Salvation. I am so grateful. I'm not saying this is the only reason I had a miscarriage, I know I can't fully know what the cause or why it happened to me until we are on the other side, but I learned some awesome things from it.

I know that one of the biggest reasons we go through trials on this earth is to become closer to Christ. When we are close to Christ we utilize the atonement. This experience allowed me to use Him as my crutch. And come to think of it Ray and I have grown as a couple. :) I love that! It feels like I can look back and see the whole time God was aware. He could see that somehow, right now, having a baby at this time was not in our best interests. And that's okay.

Because I trust him.

Ilish's Birth Story: Surprise at 36 Weeks

Saturday the 1st of September was like any normal day, me being very pregnant, grumpy from not sleeping well, and cursing this baby for having a whole month left! Kabe and I laid in bed for the first part of the morning, around 11am we had to be at my little cousin's baptism. The whole thing was so great and I got to hold my little one month old cousin!! He was a little chunker! After the baptism, we went to the park and ate lots of yummy food! My mom and I were talking and she had mentioned that I looked like I was carrying baby boy really low. I laughed and made a joke about how this weekend would be a good weekend to have a baby because Kabe didn't have school. (It was Labor Day on Monday, which meant no school!) I had told her that the night previous I had been having quite a bit of very close together Braxton hicks. She joked about it being a sign and that I would have the baby really soon. I laughed because I had been told so many times that I would probably go a week overdue. Kabe and I went home early because I was exhausted. 

We watched a movie, and took a nap. Three hours later, it was 6pm and I didn't feel very good. So I munched on a few crackers and watched some more TV. Around 9pm is when I told Kabe that my Braxton hicks were getting more frequent. He told me I should time them. So I started writing them down. 

Keeping track of my contractions

They weren't painful, just annoying. I had no idea what was happening. Everyone says, "You will know when it's time." I feel like with your first though that is a bunch of bull! I had NO idea what was going on. The contractions started to become more uncomfortable and even sometimes were hurting! Around 11:30pm, after I had had a couple of really painful ones, Kabe told me to call my midwife. So I did. But of course I got the on-call nurse. She sounded a little annoyed with me for calling her...HELLO! I think I might be in labor! I don't need attitude from you! But anyway, I called her, told her my due date (September 30) and told her that I think I might be in labor. She said, "Oh, it's just your body getting ready. Don't even worry about it. Just go take a bath, drink a quart of water, and go to sleep. You will be fine. It's your body practicing." Okay, first I hate baths. Why would you want to see yourself fat, naked, and preggo? And also why would you want to sit in your own filth? Second, I had already been drinking tons of water. It was like an addiction! Third, there was NO way I was going to be able to sleep when my life could be changing within the next day! I went and laid down while Kabe started to pack a hospital bag. We had no idea what we were doing. 

My midwife only delivered at one hospital up near SLC and we lived in Provo. It was an hour drive to get there. So Kabe and I decided that we should just go to the hospital in Provo and see if anything was happening. If not, then we would drive the five minute drive home, instead of having to drive an hour to Salt Lake and an hour back. We were so excited and also nervous. We hadn't really talked about baby names seriously, or about what we would do if something went wrong. We hadn't thought much about anything at that point. We got to the hospital around 1am and were in a room by about 1:30am, at which point they checked me and I was dilated to a three and 90% effaced. We waited for an hour and I had dilated to a four, and the nurse said she could feel his head. We then decided to stay in Provo, not wanting to get in the car and drive for an hour, possibly having a baby in the car. No thank you! So we stayed. 

Around 3:30am, they broke my water. And the nurses changed. Our first nurse was wonderful! She was so supportive and kind. But our second nurse was so very rude. She was freaking out as to why they would break my water and why I would even be in labor. Hello! I am laying in the bed right next to you! I can hear you! I am having a baby--I'm not deaf! But then again, Kabe and I had no idea what we were doing. It was all a blur and I wish I had known what was going on and that I had understood half the stuff they were asking me. I wish I would have wanted to wait, but I didn't. I was so very impatient. I should have had them stop the labor, but I also didn't want my poor little boy to be stuck in the birth canal for four more weeks! Also, I was throwing up. I threw up about 8 times. I think my body was in shock and unaware of what to do. I had no food to throw up, but somehow stuff was still coming. Since I was only 36 weeks along, I had to be put on a penicillin drip (I never had the strep B test done so they thought it would be better to be safe than sorry). 

Around 4:30am, I got an epidural. It was one of the scariest things ever. He told me not to move, then sprayed this really really cold spray on my back. I remember being so scared, but Kabe was right there holding my hand and telling me how good I was doing! I remember being numb on just one side so they rolled me over and tried to even it out. I could feel most stuff on my right side but I was numb on my left all the way down to my toes. After getting the epidural, we decided we should call our parents and tell them that we were going to have the baby that day. It was so exciting and they all made the hour drive down at four in the morning! They came in and visited for a bit, then they all left and sat in the waiting room. 

When Kabe's family came in, I was so numb. WARNING! This is the most embarrassing moment of my life. I couldn't feel anything. That means I couldn't hold anything in and apparently I was farting up a freaking storm! And the most embarrassing part was I didn't know it was me!!! I totally thought it was someone else! I even asked who was making that sound! AWKWARD. So beware and don't let your in-laws see you when you have an epidural! 

At around 7:30am (the penicillin takes about four hours to get to the baby so they won't get strep B coming out of the birth canal) the nurse came in and said we were going to try a few practice pushes. She told me how to breathe and then push. We did it once, then she said, "We probably should wait until the doctor comes in to push again." I was really proud of myself. So the doctor came in around 7:45am and the first thing he said was, "Let's get this baby out, I'm ready to go home." (Um, rude! I am sitting here trying to have a baby, never mind that this is my first one!) So anyway, then he told me to do a practice push while he was getting everything ready. So I did. Then he said, "Uh, maybe you should wait to push again until I am ready to catch that little guy." I pushed three more times and the doctor told me that I needed an episiotomy. He said I could be pushing for a long time if I didn't get one, and I would probably tear anyway. So I said okay. (I totally regret this by the way!) After, with one more push, out popped my sweet tiny baby boy. 

Our little newborn

He weighed 5lbs, 1oz. and was 18 inches long. He was born at 7:56am on September 2nd. They asked me if I wanted him clean before they gave him to me and I said yes (another regret) so they cleaned him off and handed him to me. I got to hold him for five seconds then the respiratory therapist came in and everyone went up to the NICU, including my sweet husband because they were worried about our baby's lungs not being developed. The doctor finished sewing me up and left. The nurse said she needed to do something and left, too. Then I was alone. No one was in there with me for five minutes. I had just had a baby and I was alone! So I cried. It was weird going from having somebody with me constantly, to completely alone. That was hard.

Kabe watching over Archer in the NICU

The doctors did some tests on our little boy then they fed him some formula to get his blood sugar levels up (low levels can cause brain damage) before I got to see him again. When they gave him to me, I finally got to give him some loves. His hat fell off and I saw his poor little head. It was bruised--almost a black bruise--and he had a severe cone head from being in the birth canal for so long. He also had a massive ridge on his head but it went down after a week or so. Kabe and I decided that we should hurry and name him so we could call him something other than "baby boy." The name we chose was Archer Ray. He was a horrible nurser, but a very sweet spirit. People say that the labor resembles the baby, and in my case it was true. 

Our sweet boy with his daddy

Archer is very stubborn, persistent, and has done everything very early. He is now over a year old and, though we have had some rough patches, we would not trade him for the world!

Archer, Kabe, & Ilish

If you have any comments or questions for Ilish, please leave them below!

Hillary's Miscarriage- "A Part of Our Life"

I had a miscarriage at 6 weeks in July of 2012.  It was the day before my grandpa died and a few days before we lost our car as well.  Needless to say it was an eventful few days.  For the sake of this blog I will only be telling the things that happened with the miscarriage.  I had been having the pains since the beginning of the pregnancy pretty much.  They gradually got worse and worse.  But being the person that I am, I thought that I just needed to deal with it.  I didn’t have an OBGYN yet and my insurance was from California and would only cover ER visits in Utah.  I didn’t know what to do about it so I just kept trying to deal with it.  Over the next few weeks the pains got worse and worse.  I couldn’t walk or talk or even move at all through them.  They came and went.  They seemed to pass through me, and I wondered what kidney stones felt like, because it did feel like a huge rock in my stomach was moving through a tiny tube or something.

The day it was the hardest Andrew and I looked up things about miscarriages and I got very emotional about it.  It wasn’t till later in the day when I had blood on my underwear that I became hysterical.  We looked up on the internet about severe lower abdominal pains and it said that if it was accompanied by blood then it was most likely a miscarriage.  Right when I saw those words, I broke.  I cried and cried and sobbed and we didn’t even know yet that it was for sure.  I was almost inconsolable.  Andrew held me in his arms and he seemed confused and concerned.  He was calculating the situation and trying to figure out what would be best to do.  I had been in touch with my mom constantly when we first started seeing the signs.  She helped us decide that we did need to go to the emergency room.  We went right then, even though it was barely any blood.  We were there for four hours.  I had an ultrasound in a dark, dark room at 2:30 am.  Andrew had to sit far away from me as I laid there on this gurney staring up at the ceiling.  It was there where they saw the flicker of light- and they said it was the heartbeat!  We saw it fluttering and we were so relieved.  They said things looked okay and that the blood could be a few different things.  On that day our baby looked safe and I thought I had overreacted.  They told me to ‘take it easy.’  The pain persisted when we got home, but since the doctors had said everything was fine I took that as a confirmation that, yes, I just needed to bear through it, it wasn’t just me being stubborn anymore. 

My sister Julia and her husband Lester came to stay the night the next day on there way through town.  The pain was still there, getting worse every time and I was still bleeding.  We ate dinner but while we played games afterwards I couldn’t handle the pain anymore and I noticed that I was bleeding more than a normal period for me.  I told them to continue playing and went into the room and called the Kaiser advice nurse.  While I was in there on hold I was so confused.  We saw the heartbeat the day before.  If our baby was healthy why was this happening?  At this point I still didn’t think it could really be a miscarriage.  The nurse on the phone said that it sounded like I was miscarriage-ing and she told me what to look for.  She told me what it would look like if I ‘passed tissue,’ she said it would look like uncooked hamburger for lack of a better description.  She said that it would now just be a waiting game and that I should go into the emergency room again if I could not stand the pain.  But I wanted to endure it.  I don’t know why, maybe it was psychological.  Maybe I believed that if I could get through it the baby would be able to also.  If I could take this pain then the baby would be okay.  That night I couldn’t even sleep through the pain.  I tried lamaze breathing and I tried groaning through it.

The next day my sister and her husband had to get on the road again.  We called my other sister, Mariah, and asked her to come help us with housework and meals, so Andrew could go back to work.  Andrew insisted that I stay in the bed.  He set me up with pillows and snacks, books, movies, journals and a computer.  My sister came that evening, Thursday, with plans to stay through the whole weekend.  She and Andrew went to the library to get me some movies to watch on Saturday.  While they were gone I already was having a hard time taking it easy.  Surprisingly the pain had gone away almost completely so I was up doing a few things that were not too strenuous.  It was then that I felt a different kind of pain all of sudden.  It felt like a snap inside me.  A horribly painful twinge.  It happened a few more times, but I tried again to just bear through it.  I was actually feeling pretty good emotionally.  I wasn’t crying.  I went to the bathroom and was not thinking about it until I was finishing.  And then I saw it.  I had the ‘tissue’ on the toilet paper in my hand. 

I know that this may not be normal to write about every detail of this kind of an experience.  But I’ve decided that personally I want to remember the details.  Because now that this experience is truly a part of me, who I am, I feel like I need to be able to look back at it…all of it if I ever am going to heal from it.  I know myself.  And I know that I don’t want to forget any part of my experience with this baby.

When Mariah and Andrew came home from the library they found me in the bed sobbing once again.  I told them what had happened and we got in the car and went back to the ER.  I could barely talk to the check-in nurse about why I was there, what my emergency was.  We took a seat in the waiting area all of us together.  While Andrew and I sat next to each other he expressed his emotions about it.  It was his turn after all he had done to comfort me. I tried to be there for him for a change.

I had a second ultrasound and a vaginal one as well while Mariah waited in the lobby.  This time in the same dark room as before Andrew asked for, almost demanded, a chair so he could sit right close to me holding my hand during it.  Awhile later when we were back in the normal hospital room the doctor came in and said that they had found nothing.  For a split second I thought he was saying that they had found nothing wrong with the baby and I felt such a wave of relief and amazement.  The whole time I did not believe that it could really be a miscarriage.  Then all at once I realized what he was saying as he kept talking.  When he said they had found nothing he meant that everything had passed and my uterus was completely clean.  Tears instantly filled my eyes but didn’t spill out.  The doctor expressed his sympathy told us briefly about his personal experience with miscarriages in his life.  His words were helpful and kind, but I had no idea how I felt.  It was like I was numb.  Andrew and I were pretty quiet as we packed up and were discharged, both tired and hungry because we hadn’t eaten.  We got Mariah out of the lobby where she had been sadly waiting by herself.  She didn’t know what the outcome was.  And we didn’t tell her until in the parking lot she asked.  As we walked out of the air-conditioned building into the heat I felt it.  The weight of it all.  The extreme sadness I was feeling.  I remember to answer her question I just said, ‘it’s over’ as we walked towards the car and that’s when the emotions began to spill.  Because it was just over.  Everything was over.  The trauma of being in the ER was over.  And the pregnancy was over.  It was just over.  It was the relief of finally knowing and not having to wonder and worry.  But it was first and foremost the devastation of the plain fact that this little life was just gone.  Our baby was just not coming anymore.

Thinking about how quickly everything went with the baby made me feel so incomplete.  I felt like it all went so fast.  One minute I had a baby in me.  The next minute I didn’t.  I remember how excruciating the physical pain was but I don’t remember WHEN it happened.  Because we’ll never know exactly when it happened.  One day we saw the heart beat of our baby.  Two days later there was no sign that I had ever even been pregnant.  Overall it was a very, very hard thing for me to accept and understand.  Even now, a year and a half later sitting here with my 3 month old daughter in my lap, I still don’t fully understand why it had to happen the way it did.  There are a lot of different interpretations and I believe someday we may know why.  I have faith in God’s plan and I have no doubt that He takes care of it all. 

I think most people who knew about the miscarriage at the time just had no idea what to say to us.  Some people would tell us about others who have gone through worse things.  Others would awkwardly say, "Do you um...want a hug?"  Some people told us not to worry because we will have other kids and have a big family someday.  I know people didn't really mean it when they said 'don't worry about it,' but to me those words made it sound like it was something that didn't last long enough to be important.  I saw a quote soon afterwards that summed up how I was feeling: “A baby fills a place in your heart you never knew was empty.”  Well we knew it was empty now and we could feel the hole.  During the miscarriage we started filling that empty space, and afterwards we could feel the emptiness even more.

After it all happened I went through a period of time where I was very bitter about it.  I was seeing so many other girls announcing their pregnancies and I felt like it was so unfair.  I was driving myself crazy.  I feel like the hardest thing about it was how confused I felt.  Sometimes I just wanted to hit something.  Other times I just wanted to sleep forever to get away from it all.  I wrote in my journal a lot.  I actually started typing my journal because I felt like my hand couldn’t write fast enough to keep up with the emotions that poured out.  Writing was very therapeutic for me and it’s something I would suggest to you if you’ve gone through one and don’t know what to do with your feelings.  I look back now and am actually surprised at how angry some of my entries were.  Sometimes I get pretty emotional all over again when I read them.  But I’m glad I did it because I know it helped me heal from the experience little by little.  I felt so much love and support from my parents, siblings, in-laws, friends, and other family.  It meant so much to me.

I believe that there is a purpose for these trials we go through and that this experience was not lost on us or on God.  I know that people have gone through so much worse.  But it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t hard for us.  He knows that it was hard and He will never discount this tragedy.  God’s love is so much more than ours, so who would understand it better?  No one understands it better than He.  He will make the sadness we feel and the growing we do from this experience count towards our salvation.  It is not lost.  It is not in vain.   I’ve found that time really does make all the difference when it comes to healing.  And our life now is living proof that there is hope for the future even after such a hard experience.  It was a part of life that we grew and learned so much from and will always remember.  But that's just it- it was a part of life.  Just one part.  And I know there are a lot of good things to come.

 Ask me any questions about my experience.  I would love to answer them.

Supporting Each Other: Sharing Miscarriage Stories

When Olivia and I first started talking about doing this blog I began thinking about what I would want to write about.  As I sit here holding my sleeping baby, trying to type with one hand, I look around our little apartment and see...DISHES that need to be done.  I try NOT to picture the mountain of laundry that I know is in the other room and I wonder how in the world I’m going to make dinner tonight.  I get discouraged and I think of all the things I miss about not being a mom.  But then a thought hits me with full force.  What I miss about not being a mom is nothing, absolutely nothing, to what I would miss about being one. 

What I’ve decided to write about right now is miscarriage.  My miscarriage made me want to be a mom so badly.  Losing a baby made me ache to be a mother more than ever before.  And now partly due to that experience it’s something I never ever want to give up.

Maybe miscarriage is a strange thing to write about on a blog for moms, but I feel that it is something that is so important to talk about but is rarely discussed.  I went through mine about a year and a half ago and one of the hardest things about it was trying to find support.  I found it in my husband Andrew, of course.  We went through it all together and I don’t think for a minute that his pain of losing the baby was any less than mine.  But we all know ourselves and we all know that sometimes women just need support from other women.  Because obviously there were differences between the way it all felt for me verses the way it felt for Andrew- physically and emotionally.  My mom and sister also were a support to me, but having never experienced miscarriage themselves I think they felt apprehensive about what to say or how exactly to support and comfort me.  I didn’t have any friends who had had one that I knew of and I just wished that there was someone I could talk to that would know how confused and sad I felt. 

After getting pregnant the second time and feeling confident that things were running smoothly, I turned to family, friends, and social media for pregnancy support.  By that I mean advice, sympathy, and basic information.  I found relief in hearing and comparing the experiences of others, and was able to cope with the normal hardships that pregnancy brings simply because I knew I was not alone.  Now having my baby here I do the same thing during this part of life.  Looking back now, I really wish there had been a similar place that I could go when I was dealing with my miscarriage.  Even if it was just something to read from a real person and not a pamphlet telling me that everything I was feeling was normal.  I was having so many emotions and I know now that what I really needed was that emotional support from a girl who knew what I was feeling.  That is the goal of this blog--to provide information and emotional support to mothers who are sometimes looking for something other than just the medical aspect.  I hope that this blog can also be a place where women who have experienced miscarriages can find that emotional support as well.  And I hope that here they can also find hope for the future.

So much came to my mind while trying to write this out that I’ve decided to do it in a few parts.  There will be guest bloggers about this subject to share their different experiences.  

If you or anyone you know has had a miscarriage or any kind of pregnancy complication who would like to have their story told please comment here or contact me or Olivia and we would love to feature it here on the blog.  We hope we can all learn and grow from sharing our experiences with each other.

Look for this series to begin the next few days.