It's not your fault.
Due to the nature of this blog, I will write today, hard and clear about what hurts.
It is story time! In 2016 just a few months after I married, I got pregnant. Timeline wise, it was 1 exact year ago that I excitedly took my first pregnancy test, anxiously awaited the short 2 minutes then instantly overjoyed at the "+" symbol. My husband and I had decided that we were going to have a family and que sera sera. We were living in Logan Utah while my husband attended Utah State University. We were barely surviving. Apart from 6' snow and -25 temperatures, the only real stability we had was each other and a good car. Although unsure of survival, we were excited to welcome a new member into our family. Frantically, we began in depth research into birthing methods and the best hospitals nearby.
Living in snowy Logan we were not surrounded by relatives, it was just us, that was it. Based upon my previous experiences with alternative birth I recalled a Midwife in my hometown of Saint George Utah that was excellent from what I had seen.
Nervously and cautiously we approached the idea of leaving school and moving back home to raise our family. All of these changes conspired within one month. Bear in mind, I was extremely nauseous and my diet was excruciating, all I could keep down was Little Caesars and Burger King. If you know me, I would not willingly eat at those establishments EVER. I lost 15 pounds and was a wreck.
On moving day, my nausea got the best of me 4 times before even leaving the valley. After arriving in Saint George, I began regular check-ups with the midwife I knew. 11 weeks into the pregnancy and all was well, I was put on an anti-nausea and it saved my life. The reality of having a baby was setting in, plus, our families and friends were ecstatic. Telling my grandparents is most memorable, my grandfather a rather stoic and reserved person, lit up looking truly excited.
4 weeks later, our world came caving in. Previous appointments had welcomed a normal struggle to find my baby's heartbeat. At first it was a passing joke that the baby just was being stubborn like his/her parents. Now, in the reality of the moment with no heartbeat I was scheduled for an ultrasound.
Growing up in a more holistic centered home, the sterile smells of the hospital halls and the constant beeping from machinery was an overwhelming experience.
During the ultrasound, I am 100% sure that I wasn't breathing, pending news and a heartbeat. To be honest, I did not understand the screen I was looking at. The time came and the nurse turned his attention towards us. He kindly informed us that the fetus was 8-9 weeks measurements and my mind, jumping as far away from tragedy as possible, considering I was measuring externally 16 weeks, I thought maybe the timing was off. Naive, in a shaking voice I asked, "What does that mean?" blatantly, he answered " it's similar to a miscarriage."
I cannot recall any other moment where my husbands head has hit my shoulder with such weight and force. All those sweet, sweet kisses and words to the baby were now nixed. Jonsi, an Icelandic musician, would bring tears instead of smiles. He was so elated to be a 'daddy.' A doctor was called in for assessment, it was the longest wait of my life.
Alone in that dark room, shattered we laid, tarrying for further steps in the process. Due to the size of the fetus I had a couple of options. I chose a prescription that would induce labor causing my uterus to shed and it would be over. The next day, in our apartment, my husband held me as my body experienced the most intense pain. I remember seeing the fetus and bursting into tears. Then life was supposed to just continue as normal.
Too this day, I can recall 1 thing the doctor told us, "This is not your fault." It wasn't, even though in honest moments of heaving I didn't want the struggle anymore. It wasn't my fault the baby's body didn't work. Its not my fault that my body didn't take too it. I didn't do anything wrong that caused this, "I couldn't have been a better mamma."
I still suffer from depression and the thought of children still puzzle me. I hear the music by wonderful Jonsi, and I lose it. At the darkest moment of the repercussions of this death, I remember the most important part. It wasn't my fault and I couldn't have been a better mamma.
This post is one that I am sure many can relate to because it happens. In the moment, I had not a hint towards the possibility of a miscarriage. Its hard, being pregnant and then mid-flight having the wind knocked out of your sails.
Just remember, "You couldn't have been a better mamma."
It is story time! In 2016 just a few months after I married, I got pregnant. Timeline wise, it was 1 exact year ago that I excitedly took my first pregnancy test, anxiously awaited the short 2 minutes then instantly overjoyed at the "+" symbol. My husband and I had decided that we were going to have a family and que sera sera. We were living in Logan Utah while my husband attended Utah State University. We were barely surviving. Apart from 6' snow and -25 temperatures, the only real stability we had was each other and a good car. Although unsure of survival, we were excited to welcome a new member into our family. Frantically, we began in depth research into birthing methods and the best hospitals nearby.
Living in snowy Logan we were not surrounded by relatives, it was just us, that was it. Based upon my previous experiences with alternative birth I recalled a Midwife in my hometown of Saint George Utah that was excellent from what I had seen.
Nervously and cautiously we approached the idea of leaving school and moving back home to raise our family. All of these changes conspired within one month. Bear in mind, I was extremely nauseous and my diet was excruciating, all I could keep down was Little Caesars and Burger King. If you know me, I would not willingly eat at those establishments EVER. I lost 15 pounds and was a wreck.
On moving day, my nausea got the best of me 4 times before even leaving the valley. After arriving in Saint George, I began regular check-ups with the midwife I knew. 11 weeks into the pregnancy and all was well, I was put on an anti-nausea and it saved my life. The reality of having a baby was setting in, plus, our families and friends were ecstatic. Telling my grandparents is most memorable, my grandfather a rather stoic and reserved person, lit up looking truly excited.
4 weeks later, our world came caving in. Previous appointments had welcomed a normal struggle to find my baby's heartbeat. At first it was a passing joke that the baby just was being stubborn like his/her parents. Now, in the reality of the moment with no heartbeat I was scheduled for an ultrasound.
Growing up in a more holistic centered home, the sterile smells of the hospital halls and the constant beeping from machinery was an overwhelming experience.
During the ultrasound, I am 100% sure that I wasn't breathing, pending news and a heartbeat. To be honest, I did not understand the screen I was looking at. The time came and the nurse turned his attention towards us. He kindly informed us that the fetus was 8-9 weeks measurements and my mind, jumping as far away from tragedy as possible, considering I was measuring externally 16 weeks, I thought maybe the timing was off. Naive, in a shaking voice I asked, "What does that mean?" blatantly, he answered " it's similar to a miscarriage."
I cannot recall any other moment where my husbands head has hit my shoulder with such weight and force. All those sweet, sweet kisses and words to the baby were now nixed. Jonsi, an Icelandic musician, would bring tears instead of smiles. He was so elated to be a 'daddy.' A doctor was called in for assessment, it was the longest wait of my life.
Alone in that dark room, shattered we laid, tarrying for further steps in the process. Due to the size of the fetus I had a couple of options. I chose a prescription that would induce labor causing my uterus to shed and it would be over. The next day, in our apartment, my husband held me as my body experienced the most intense pain. I remember seeing the fetus and bursting into tears. Then life was supposed to just continue as normal.
Too this day, I can recall 1 thing the doctor told us, "This is not your fault." It wasn't, even though in honest moments of heaving I didn't want the struggle anymore. It wasn't my fault the baby's body didn't work. Its not my fault that my body didn't take too it. I didn't do anything wrong that caused this, "I couldn't have been a better mamma."
I still suffer from depression and the thought of children still puzzle me. I hear the music by wonderful Jonsi, and I lose it. At the darkest moment of the repercussions of this death, I remember the most important part. It wasn't my fault and I couldn't have been a better mamma.
This post is one that I am sure many can relate to because it happens. In the moment, I had not a hint towards the possibility of a miscarriage. Its hard, being pregnant and then mid-flight having the wind knocked out of your sails.
Just remember, "You couldn't have been a better mamma."
(Photo taken in the car from the hospital to the clinic for blood tests after the shocking news of a miscarriage.)
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