From the beginning of January to the middle of March I was a permanent resident of my couch, due to awful morning sickness (well, all-day sickness) and fatigue that comes with pregnancy. Although we were super excited to find out we were expecting again, we abstained from telling anyone in light of my last miscarriage. I mainly suffered my sickness secretly--although many found out on their own from the apparent deathly-ill look I carried with me. After the first trimester was completed, we felt it perfect timing to start announcing it to everyone. We had told our kids (who were thrilled), and I was just about to post the exciting news on a blog...but glad I never did. I miscarried the baby at 14 weeks and have spent the last week trying to climb out of the dark hole we were thrown in. Two days after this all happened I thought I'd sit down and write out my experience and all of my feelings. It was very impromptu--I opened up a Word document and typed nonstop until I was done. I did it for therapeutic matters--which actually proved to help a lot--and had no intentions of ever sharing it with anyone. I just wanted to get it all out and let go of some of it. I have given it a lot of thought, and now that I'm recovering emotionally and physically and in a much better place, I feel maybe it might be beneficial to post my thoughts. My blogs are generally fun stories, cute pictures, and happy events. But, sometimes bad things happen. Saddness occurs, dark days come, and life doesn't always produce postive-cheerful attitudes. I don't want to portray things unfairly by just only showing the 'picture perfect' side of my life. Plus, there a few other reasons. I haven't been able to talk to hardly anyone the past 8 days. When I finally talked to my little sister, she said it was so hard for her not knowing how I was feeling, or how I have been thinking. She felt a helpless being left in the dark during this tough time for our family. There are a lot of family and close friends that I'm sure felt similar, and although I know they needed a little comfort and reassurance, I was in no state to give it to them. Maybe this will help them with a little insight of what I was experiencing. I also have a few 'inquisitive' friends and family members that I know will want to hear the story; this prevents me from having to relive it. Another reason is, I have appreciated soo much those who have gone through something similar share with me that my feelings and thoughts are common, and I am not the only one who has felt this. Maybe this will help someone who goes through this in the future. I don't know. This, and other personal reasons, have lead me to the decision to post the details. Don't feel compelled to read it. Like I said, it is really rough around the edges, grammatically faltering, long, and maybe a bit graphic at times. I didn't go back and change little things, knowing that people would now be reading it. I wanted it to be honest and a true glimpse of my life, so it is left as-is. Definitely some may find this to be 'too much information'. But, it's what I was feeling at that exact moment, so it is what I wrote.
Like I said, that was last Friday. Those aren't my feelings today. I am doing a lot better now. A lot better. Physically I'm not recovered yet, and surely not emotionally. But, there is hope; there is happiness, and there is light in my life again. I definitely still have hard moments (like last night when Laycie prayed that our baby would get feeling better), and plenty more in the future I'm sure, but I am going to be okay. Lastly, I really have to give a big 'hug' to those who did know and stepped in to help. There has been an endless amount of sympathy and support. It has made this bearable.
Now that I’m in a better mindset, I thought it wise to record my experiences the past few days. Tuesday, March 16, 2010 started off normal; actually better than normal. I was a week into my second trimester and it looked promising to be vastly different from the first. I had gone almost 3 days without being sick, and I was hopeful my life would actually start getting some normalcy. Maybe laundry could be done, bathrooms could be cleaned, dinners could be prepared, and health could return. I laid down for a nap late in the afternoon with the kids watching a cartoon. It was spring break, so all the kids were at home for the week. Upon waking up, I realized that all my hopes for being healthy were not so sure. My stomach wasn’t nauseous, just in a bit of pain. By the time Lance came home I was definitely not feeling well and told him of my concerns from cramping. He told me he remembered this happening in other pregnancies and we always worried then too. He had me look online to see what it would say. It said pretty much what he said. Cramping is common and normal—as long as it wasn’t severe or associated with bleeding. I wasn’t bleeding, so my thoughts were at ease. We put the kids down and I began doing laundry. Lance went to play basketball at the church and I began watching a conference talk as I folded clothes. Soon they cramping got so bad that I couldn’t even pay attention to the speaker. I thought I’d get in a hot shower to ease the pain. But first, I went to the bathroom. Just the few drops of blood brought a flood of horror of disbelief—No, this can’t be happening. Not much blood, but definitely dripping from me. I called Lance. No answer. I called a few minutes later and he picked up. I told him I was bleeding. There was immediate panic and concern on his end of the phone. We both cried, and I agreed to call the doctor after I hung up. I paged doctor morris and waited. He soon came home, and she soon called. She said that if it were her she’d go to the hospital. Not that they could change the course of fate, but just to have some answers. Lance gave me a blessing. It was comforting, but I could tell I was not in for a happy ending. I knew he could tell too. We debated waking up the kids so he could come, I opted to go alone. I grabbed the keys and we hugged and cried as I began to leave. But then, I couldn’t. Instead I was forced to run to the bathroom as the once minute drips turned to full-on gushing. I sobbed in the bathroom as I was reassured of my biggest fear. I was in fact losing this baby. I put a pad on and left. I tried to call my mom on the way to the hospital. I needed someone to tell me there was another reason for all the pain and blood. Something that had a rational happy ending. But, it was Tuesday; she’s at the temple. So, I called Cristeen. I knew I wasn’t making a whole lot of sense as I was trying to talk through my sobs, and I knew she was struggling to understand what was going on. Eventually she caught on and she was at a loss for words like I. I tried to compose myself before I entered the ER; pleading that the Lord help me through this. They were packed in the ER that night. I arrived just before 11p.m. She said there’d be a wait, but I’d get in before midnight. I sat and waited. Softly crying at times, but holding it together. I went to the bathroom frequently; there was just so much blood and now clots. Cristeen apparently got a hold of my mom and she was quickly on the phone after she got home. She offered vague hope and other explanations, but I already knew the outcome. At about 12:05 am the nurse said it would be any minute now. 12:20….12:35….12:50….I had to tie my jacket around my waist to hide the blood that was soaking my clothes. It was running down my legs and I was drenched. Also, I was beginning to feel dizzy and light-headed from the loss of blood. How much longer would they make me wait? Finally at 12:55 I told them I needed new clothes, mine were soaked. They realized my plight and told me they were just about to call my name anyways. Sure. I was brought back and asked to change into a gown. They said I could just get blood on the sheets. They underestimated me. Within minutes I was sitting in a pool of blood and clots, and they changed their plan. They piled pads under and around me and set me up with a much needed IV. As she put it in I knew that the pain of an IV was just going to be the beginning of a long, painful night. I was given fluids, anti-nausea meds, and pain meds. The next 7 hours in the hospital were long. Pain, loneliness, crying, wait, disbelief, and numbness all filled the time. I was given a foley and catheter. This I remember well from my last miscarriage. I remember it being the worst and most painful part of the whole ordeal. It didn't prove to the be the worst for what I was in for this time, but still miserable. They pumped my bladder full of fluid and then began the painful ultra-sound. After too long, the nurse turned the screen to me and showed my my uterus. It was empty. She said this is where the baby should be. She then scrolled down a few inches and there he was (I will say ‘he’ just for ease sake). She said that in preparation to miscarry he had dropped directly on top of my cervix. She said I was going through actual labor. I’ve been through labor, this wasn’t labor. Well, not yet. She said he looked like he stopped growing a few weeks ago. Even though I was 14 weeks along, she said it looked like he was only 12 weeks along, and that my uterus actually looked further along then 14. She did say that he looked like he had just passed away that day. He was still fully intact and actually looked like a perfect fetus. With no heartbeat. She let my foley drain as we talked—and for that she was my hero. Within minutes of getting back to my room , the labor she discussed finally kicked in. I began having the awful cramps turn into actual contractions. Two minutes apart. One minute long. It was awful. Blood gushing out with each one. They seemed to never end and the pain meds they kept redosing didn’t seem to match their strength. Eventually the ER doc came in to do a pelvic exam. I heard them whispering the they were just going to take the baby out. They got all the needed instruments and I was actually quite calm. That soon stopped. Everything looked too familiar. The stirrups, my position, the contractions, her telling me to push when I felt the pressure. Some things weren’t familiar, the lack of my husband, the crank she was using to open up my cervix, the unbearable sobbing, the heartbreaking emotional pain as I felt the baby deliver. It was awful. Where was Lance? I knew where he was; not only had I been the one to force him to stay home, but the constant ringing cell phone during delivery was a reminder he wasn’t physically here. This was actually better though, he was struggling and I don’t know if he could have handled seeing me go through everything. The doctor asked me if I wanted to see the baby. I did. I really did. He was so small. She said he looked more like 10 weeks old—but a very perfect looking fetus. Two arms, two legs, 10 fingers, 10 toes, two eyes, a nose and a mouth. What went wrong? I have to admit I was really hoping to see a grotesquely deformed fetus. Something that was so apparent that is shouldn’t have lived. Something that would suggest, yes this is better it ended. But instead he was so small and perfect. He could have been fine it seemed. He was sent to pathology where hopefully more answers will come. This is were the numbness began to set in. I don’t know if I cried the 3 or 4 hours that followed. I was past feeling. I finally called Lance back and I could see we were in very different states. He was feeling. Feeling more than I think I’ve ever seen him feel. He was alone. He didn’t have nurses in and out and people constantly expressing sorrow for me. He was sitting alone at home. Not knowing outcomes, not being able to help. Our conversation allowed him calmness to be able to sleep afterwards, and I was hoping to do the same. No luck. The contractions weren’t stopping. My body knew there was more to dispose of and it was frantically trying to push it out. I was exhausted. It was almost 5 am and I hadn’t slept a second. There would be no sleep for me though. I was in pain, uncomfortable, and actually had awful congestion that prevented any relaxing. As the time crept into morning I knew that the logistics of life needed to be addressed. Did Lance need to find a sitter for the kids? Did he need to call in sick to work? Was I going to be released soon? Could I drive home? We waited for the OB doc to make an appearance. Everything was so slow that night. Everyone was so slow. I was in my own little world and was frustrated everyone in the hospital didn’t reside there. I knew ‘I’ll be right back’ meant 30 mins, and ‘anytime now’ meant don’t hold your breath. Finally the OB doctor arrived and checked me out. He said that the clots were getting worse, and there were still things inside of me that needed to come out. He recommended surgery, but said they would also consider putting me on meds that would make me cramp even more and pass things on my own. It said it would be painful and messy, and not always effective. I called Lance for advice. He really is anti-surgery—as ironic as that seems. He wanted to avoid it at all costs. I told him when the doctor got back—whenever that was—that I’d have him talk to him. He knew doctor Olhousen well, they had done many surgeries together. It was nice having a connection. He talked to Lance and I could tell I’d be going into surgery. Before they even got off the phone Trent was in my doorway, ready for preop. As good as it was to see a familiar face, I couldn’t help but reflect on the disgusting state I was in. I hadn’t slept in 24 hours, my eyes were practically swollen shut from tears, I was bloody, pale and visibly miserable. I really didn’t want to see friends. He was so sweet-as all the other staff had been. He assured me VIP treatment, and the whole anesthesia staff was true to his word. Even doctor Patten cracked a smile for me. I was in a much better spot by this time in the morning (6:45ish). I hope they didn’t think me indifferent for not being sadder or emotional. I was just done. Done being miserable, done crying, and just done feeling. Once they realized Lance wasn’t going to make it to the hospital in a few minutes, they wheeled me back to surgery. That was an obvious blur and when I came to they said I just kept apologizing for my appearance. (I knew this was Lance’s territory of the hospital and I felt bad the first time most of his coworkers had to see me I looked like death). My sweet husband and kids were in recovery waiting for me. It was good to see them. They all looked cute, and Lance even did Laycie’s hair. Soon I was discharged and on my way home. Now the real saddnes begins. I have been home for 2 days now. Yesterday was worse than Wednesday. Both physical and emotional pains seemed to grow in intensity. Now it becomes real. Now I see where things won’t be the same. I don’t get to have a baby in September. I don’t get to look at baby names with the kids again tonight. The 14lbs I’ve gained has no purpose now but to make me hate what I see in the mirror. How am I going to survive another first trimester? I went through ALL that bad for NOTHING good. Is that fair? I have been sooo sick! How can I jump into being so sick for so long again? The only way women get pregnant again and have more kids is first, they have a year or two or three to forget how miserable it was to be sick. Second, they get to look at their sweet baby and say ‘yes it was worth it’. I don’t have the luxury of time to forget how sick I’ve been, and heaven knows I don’t have a sweet baby that made it all worth it. I have scars. Emotionally and physically. All to show me that it wasn’t worth it. Plus, how will I mentally and emotionally handle any small cramp or discomfort that will come next time? What if there isn’t a next time? What if I don’t get pregnant? What if this happens again? Where is my ‘safe zone’? I had heard a healthy heartbeat. There would have been a healthy sonogram. What more would ease my mind? Will anything ease me mind? I just switched out all of my regular clothes for maternity clothes. I just hung them up the day before. How can I switch them out now? Not just emotionally –but literally, I don’t fit into my normal clothes. But can I bear to wear maternity when I know it’s a lie? Why did 4 other girls in the ward have to get pregnant right at the same time as me? Why do I have to watch them progress, knowing I was the furthest along in the group? We had just announced it to all our friends and family. Everyone at church was giving me the ‘congratulations’ the past 2 weeks at church. How will I deal with that one person who doesn’t get this memo and asks me how my pregnancy’s going, or tells me how happy they are for me? And my poor kids. I haven’t been much of a mom the past 9 weeks. They have been so patient through my sickness and now they have to deal with all my irrational emotions. They were so excited too. They wanted a baby too. They are not quite understanding. They still ask how many more days until the baby comes. When will mom get a new baby. And laycie even asked when do we get to go to the hospital to see the baby that came out of mom. Yesterday was such a low point. I had Emily come over and babysit in the morning. I sat in my room in the dark for hours. I was in a lot of physical pain; but I refused myself pain meds. I didn’t eat. I didn’t drink. All day almost. I had no desire to nourish my body. For the past 3 months no matter how sick I’ve been I’ve eaten. I had something to keep alive,I had something to eat for. Now, there is no purpose. I have nothing inside of me worth nourishing. Feeling the pain seems to make sense right now. The sun finally came out yesterday for the first time this spring. I kept my blinds shut. I didn’t want to feel happy. I want to be miserable right now. That was yesterday. Today, still hard, but in a better direction. Where do I go from here though? There has been peace through all of this. I will not deny that. It has been very real and very noticed. There has been support. Everyone’s been great. My family and friends have stepped in . Lance has been incredible. I have honestly felt more gratitude the past few days then I thought was possible at a time like this. Things could be worse—a lot worse. I’m mourning the loss of my 14 week old fetus, not my 5 year old son or my 4 year old daughter or my 1 year old son. I’m not grieving and worrying about medical bills. We have good insurance. I hadn’t felt the baby kick. I didn’t know the sex. We hadn’t named it. It hadn’t responded to Lance’s voice. The kids hadn’t seen it move. This didn’t happen when Lance’s family was here (they’re coming in 2 weeks), this didn’t come next month and ruin our cruise, this didn’t happen in 3 weeks when Lance will be away at the AAAA in GA. Things could be worse. I’m okay. My life wasn’t threatened and I will, eventually, recover. I have such gratitude. I have never been able to physically feel others’ prayers in my behalf, like I have through this. The Lord was with me the moment I stepped into that ER room alone and has been close by me ever since.
12 comments:
Caetie, I am truly sorry for what you had to go through but thank you for sharing your story. we love you!!!
This post made me cry and cry . . . for you and for all of my other sweet friends who have had to go through this. I never knew how awful it could be. I've been blessed with healthy pregnancies and no fertility problems, but my friends have had serious issues with these things--and it kills me that I just never know what to say to them to help them understand that I care. I'm so glad you posted this, because it really helps me understand what they're going through and how blessed I really am. I'm so glad that you're starting to feel better. We send lots of love and prayers.
Oh, Caetie... I'm so sorry... please know that you're in our thoughts and prayers. And you're really, really not alone, as much as it feels that way. Thank you for sharing something so deeply personal; I know it will bless you and others. I didn't realize how many people have gone through miscarriages until I started opening up about our second one... this is a time for us to truly, most tenderly, help bear one another's burdens. Words can't adequately carry the understanding, but please know it's there. *Warm hugs* and prayers for peace and healing to you and your family.
Caetie, I know that we have not been close for many many years but I want you to know that I understand everything that you are feeling and going through. Omar and I have been married for 3.5yrs and this whole time we have been trying to start our family. I have had 3 miscarriages.All of them have been in the 1st trimester. Each time I have been on pins and needles about every little spotting/cramping. Stay close to the Lord. He will give you the comfort and strength to move on. I made the mistake with being angry with the Lord and it took me alot of time to get over the bitter hateful feelings that I had towards the Lord and other women with children or who were pregnant. Let yourself grieve but remember that you have 3 beautiful children that want to be with and love their mommy. My prayers are with you
Michelle
Oh Caetie!! How I wish I lived closer to you!! How I wish I could have known and at least sent flowers or called. My heart breaks for your poor sweet family. I'm so thankful for your honesty. A girl I visit teach just had a miscarriage and I feel like this gives me more insight as to how to help her. I will be sure to include you and your family in my prayers and pray that each day will be better than the last. Please know that I l love and hope for the best for you!!
You don't know me, but I am married to Matt Richmond and stumbled upon your blog today from Krista's during a quiet minute. I just wanted you to know that I and my family will be praying for you and your family, and I want to thank you for sharing something so difficult. Your intense suffering helps me to put my own little troubles into perspective today, and I am grateful for the lessons I have learned from reading your thoughts. My prayers are with you tonight,
Ann
Caetie, you are such a spiecal child of your father in heaven.I know he will bless you and comfort you during your time of healing.Our prayers are with you always.
We love you so much.
Caetie-I am so sorry that you have had to go through this! Your story was tearful. I cried as I read it. I have had 3 miscarriages, and one was at 13 weeks (very similar to your story!!). It is so hard, so depressing, and so overwhelming when you feel like no one understands. And when you feel like you have spent the past 3+ months preparing for the arrrival of your little one. But the one thing that helped me, was knowing that my Father in Heaven loved me. I didn't have to understand the 'why' of it, I just had to take comfort in knowing that He loves me, and that I had a great family support that loved me too. You are so blessed to have a husband that loves you eternally! And you are so blessed to have 3 beautiful healthy children who clearly adore their mother. We all love you, and you have been in our prayers since we heard. Please call if you need anything, and thanks again for sharing your story. I love that you were so 'real.' I am glad that you are doing better, but please let me now if I can do anything to help you or your family!! *HUGS*
Caetie, i am glad that you decided to post about this past week. I have gained such an appreciation for what a strong women you are. It has been a growing experience for me to be able to call and talk to you about what you are going through. I hope you know how much we love you and am here when ever you need someone to talk to!
Caetie...my heart aches for you. However, I can see that the growth you've felt is all part of the Plan. Adversity is inevitable, and usually not welcome, but we are stronger for it. You and your family are in my prayers. Love you to pieces.
Thank you for posting that. I can only imagine how hard it is to put your feelings out there in the open, but I think you are completely right when you said it could help others. In so many ways is has helped me just by reading it. I've gained so much understanding and appreciation for all the things in life that are often taken for granted. You are amazing and you and Lance make an incredible team together. I'm glad you have a fun vacation to look forward to together. I'm so sorry for this difficult time, but I know there will be happy days again for you soon. You have such a beautiful family and outlook on life. Keep doing what you're doing. Take care
Caetie, I am so sorry to hear and read about your loss. I too have had a very similar experience at 13 weeks sickness and all. Long before we ever met you quys. Know that you are definitely not alone, and that it is okay to have all the different emotions that you do. Life will get easier to handle but it is never completely the same. Which I can say now has been a good thing. Every time you hear of a close friend miscarrying you will feel that pain again. I now consider it a blessing however. We have been commanded to mourn with those that mourn and comfort those that stand in need of comfort and you will find that a hug from you to some other women experiencing this will be all that it will take for the both of you to feel a bond to one another. The fears, the anger, and all the other emotions you will have and are having are normal. Don't feel you are any less of a person, woman, or mother for feeling that way. I love you and will be forever grateful for the friendship we were able to have in Cleveland. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on give me a call. 760-740-8763.
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