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Every year on October 15th the world recognizes Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. This is my second year having a heavy heart on this date. May 17th of 2019 is a day that I’ll never forget. That’s the day that my first baby went to Heaven.

A large number of pregnancies end in miscarriage… I didn’t know this before I had mine. Unfortunately most women don’t. Instead we think there’s something wrong with us, that we’re the reason that fetus didn’t make it. Was there something I could have done differently? At least that was my first reaction. But sadly, in most cases, the answer is no. For some unexplainable reason it just wasn’t a viable pregnancy, and the reason being will probably stay a mystery.

I remember the day it happened SO vividly…

It was a Thursday, and I was 5 weeks. We hadn’t told anyone yet, I wanted to wait until we had an ultrasound. I was at my desk, and I started to feel crampy, “Hmmm, that’s not normal. I don’t think I should be cramping like this, let me go to the bathroom and check to see if everything is ok”, I thought to myself as I sat at my desk. When I got into the stall I looked down my heart dropped… spots of blood. I tried not to panic, some spotting can be normal in early pregnancy, I told myself, so I returned to my desk with my heart pounding for the rest of the day.

Once Jordon and I were both home I told him that I had been spotting all afternoon and feeling a bit crampy. He tried to reassure me that everything is ok, and I should go lay down. So I listened. Going to bed early wasn’t an issue, in early pregnancy you’re exhausted and sleep is very welcomed. It was about 11:40 p.m. when I felt something trickling down my leg. I quickly shot up, pulled the covers off and my heart sank. Blood, there was a trail of blood from my pajama shorts all the way down to my ankle. “Jordon, Jordon, wake up!! Something’s not right!” I shouted as he woke up in a panic rubbing his eyes, asking “WHAT’S WRONG?!”. I showed him my leg, and we agreed to call my OB.

After going through a phone tree of people I finally got the OB on call, he suggested I go to the ER, so off we went. Four hours, FOUR hours we sat in the ER before someone came to take my vitals. Now I get it, they’re busy, but sitting in that chair, bleeding through every pad and tissue I brought was a new kind of torture. Clearly I was an emotional mess, so everyone in the ER was staring at my face drenched in tears and snot. And for anyone that knows me, knows that having all eyes on me while I’m that vulnerable is pretty much my worst nightmare. Jordon tried so hard to comfort me, but I just was a shell of a person sitting in that chair, waiting for someone to come and tell me that I had lost my baby.

After hours went by we finally were called into the back where an ER Doctor did a pelvic exam on me. It wasn’t long after that my vitals came back and he told me, “You’re most liking having a spontaneous abortion, you probably wouldn’t have even noticed had you not taken a pregnancy test, and thought it was just a normal period. I’ll have my nurse make you a follow up appointment with a GYN tomorrow”. Yes, fun fact – if you didn’t know, in the medical world a miscarriage is called a, Spontaneous Abortion. How delightful.

My heart fell out of my butt, I swear you could have picked my jaw up off the ground. The family I had always dreamed was no longer. On top of that, Jordon was also devastated, seeing his face was just as upsetting. He was obviously upset about the situation we were now in, but I think he hurt more seeing how much of a mess I was… he really is a great husband.

We went home and I tried my best to get some sleep before my appointment with the GYN later that morning. When we got to the new Doctor’s office I tried my best to stay positive. The bleeding had slowed down a little bit, and of course I did a Google deep dive of every story including early spotting and bleeding in early pregnancy. Nothing was that comforting, but I was trying to keep in a good head space. Yet another pelvic exam, and more vitals were taken (that happens a lot during pregnancy I learned later on). This Doctor had way better bedside manners than our last, and she tried to encourage me to stay positive, but to prepare for the worst. Let the weekend pass, relax and take it easy and retake a test on Monday to see if it’s a positive or negative, depending on the results we’d go from there.

That gave the term “long weekend” a whole new meaning. Each day that passed felt like 30 hours long. Saturday my parents came up. Excited to hear that I was pregnant, but devastated to hear the news about what was happening. It was difficult to see how hard it was on them too, but I’m grateful for parents that dropped everything to come and be with us during such a tumultuous weekend.

Saturday was dreadful, I felt like I was having the worst period of my life. And come Sunday, I knew. Call it a Mother’s gut, but I knew I had lost the pregnancy, and now it was just time for my body to take care of the rest. The next day I went in and got even more vitals done. My Dad and Jordon tried so hard to stay positive, but I had already started to accept the facts. Hours past and we finally got the phone call confirming the worst. In the almost nine years Jordon and I have been together, I’ve seen him cry maybe a handful of times… this was one of those times.

The nurses were so nice in trying to reassure me that this doesn’t mean I could never get pregnant again, and nothing was wrong just sometimes “these kinds of things happen”. They asked if I needed to come in to talk to someone, but I denied. Sadly I know a few other women this has happened too, so I was lucky enough to be able to confide in them about it. As I get older I realize the best way to get past something is to get it off your chest. Say what you mean in the moment, because harboring those feeling does no one justice, especially yourself.

I don’t write this for sympathy, or to try and make people feel some type of way about myself or Jordon. Don’t feel bad for me, because two (long) months later our beautiful daughter was conceived and my dream became a reality again. I write this in hopes that it’ll help someone else feel at peace. Hearing other women’s stories gave me this sense of comfort. Not comfort that they too had also lost their babies, but that together we weren’t alone. Together we could uplift each other and remind ourselves that in time great things will come. If this VERY long story gave you any kind of peace or comfort, then that’s all I wanted. Don’t be afraid to tell your story, because chances are you know a person or maybe even two, who has had to walk the same path.