Where My Story Begins

Miscarriage. We avoid the topic like the plague, sweeping it under the rug and pretending that it doesn't exist. But, for women that have been through it, there is absolutely no denying that ugly word's existence.

Some people try to brush aside miscarriage like it's no big deal... the loss of a pregnancy. But, ask just about any woman who has experienced one, and we can tell you that it is, indeed, a big deal. It's not just the loss of a pregnancy. It's the loss of a child whom we had already began to dream about, to plan for, and to love. 

January 9, 2016, I had one of the happiest days of my life: I found out I was pregnant for the first time! I spent the next few weeks on cloud nine, reading up on every piece of pregnancy literature I could get my hands on, seeing my baby's precious little heartbeat for the first time, browsing through aisles of baby items at the store, and planning my new life as a family of three with my husband. I had absolutely no idea that this happy time in my life would turn into one of the most heartbreaking moments of my life only a month later. 

February 9, I had one of the worst days of my life: I found out that my baby's heart had stopped beating. Nothing in the world can prepare you for that moment. I think I will always remember very vividly lying on the ultrasound room table, staring at the screen, and knowing that something wasn't quite right. That little flutter that I had seen on the previous ultrasounds was gone, the ultrasound tech's face went white, and all I heard was, "I'm so sorry." I was in disbelief. The words I heard come out of my own mouth were, "It's OK. It happens, I guess." And then I lost it as the ultrasound tech walked out of the room to give my husband and I some space. 

I was booked the next day for a D&C because the doctors were concerned about the amount of blood I had already lost. I woke up that morning feeling numb, and in my mind, everything until I woke up from the surgery is a bit of a blur. I do know, though, that I woke up with the realization that my baby was really gone and I was no longer pregnant, and I could not stop crying. Thank goodness for the recovery nurse... she sat with me, hugging me, rubbing my back, and telling me that it was OK to cry. 

Each morning for the next month was the same: Wake Up. Cry. Muster up the strength to finally get out of bed. Get in the shower. Cry some more. Plaster on a smile to make it seem like I was OK. Go to work or wherever it was I was going that day. Come home. Eat dinner. Go to bed. Cry. Sleep. 

My life basically revolved around crying and trying to make sure that everyone else was convinced that I was OK and moving on with life. Then, one day, I realized I wasn't pretending anymore; the sadness was still there, but I was finally able to take steps forward. 

At the beginning of April, I found out I was pregnant again. And, again, I was ecstatic! However, only three days after finding out, the dreaded bleeding returned. And, again, another baby was lost. 

Then, at the end of May, I was once again pregnant. And, once again, a week later, the bleeding started. My HCG numbers dropped quickly, and I lost yet another baby. 

2016 was not kind to me. It took three babies from me, and left me with a plethora of heartache and unanswered questions. I ended the year uncertain of what my next step should be in this journey. 

What does one do after three losses? Do you give up and walk away from all the hopes and dreams you've had for your life? Do you fight for answers to why this keeps happening? Do you just keep forging forward in hopes that your luck will miraculously change? 

I made a decision at the beginning of this year that I needed to search for answers and a solution. I decided that I'm not ready to give up on this journey yet, and that I'm prepared to keep fighting. And, thankfully, that persistence has finally gotten me what I hope is an answer. Now, I can only hope that the answer I found will help me as I begin to move forward yet again. 

This blog is about my journey through miscarriage and infertility. It's insanely personal, a bit uncomfortable, downright strange at times, humorous at others, and honest always.