loss

*** I have written and rewritten this post more times than I can count. I started it back in December of 2013 and hope now to finish it. As a result, it is a jigsaw of multiple posts and I hope that it makes sense. It is also a very long post - I have tried to organize it so you can skip parts you aren't interested in, but it is hard to get these thoughts out and connect them in a logical way.

This is one of those posts, a post where Tati is writing between tears and trying to share something that is personal, but happens more often than we realize. I want to tackle a topic that is hard, that I have, sadly, come to know too well, and one that most women carry on their own.

Miscarriage.

Growing up, I had only heard the word miscarriage a handful of times.I knew my mom had miscarried twice between me and my younger sister, but that was the depth of my knowledge. And because of that, I assumed it didn't happen often and definitely never thought it would be something that would become such a part of my life. Suddenly, that word stings me like no other word ever has and I find myself repeating it over and over as I write this post.

This weekend, I had my third miscarriage. I have been pregnant four times. One of them gave me my greatest, sweetest, most wonderful blessing. The rest of them have left me feeling so many different and mostly negative emotions.

Here are my stories:

In December 2013, I had a good guess that I was pregnant, but my tests kept coming back negative. We were driving from Minnesota to Utah for Christmas break and all we could do was think of baby names. It was so much fun! Planning our family together. Our second night in town, I got really sick (the worst migraine I have ever had) and after a few hours we finally went to the emergency room. I told them I thought I might be pregnant. They said they'd check but since I had taken multiple tests that came back negative, I probably wasn't. Turns out I was really dehydrated --- and pregnant. I was thrilled! We came up with all kinds of clever ways to tell family for Christmas. Then these terrifying thoughts started to come into my mind - it was almost like I knew what was going happen. But after a week or so, I had a dream about our little red headed baby girl and suddenly everything felt alright.

When we made it back to Minnesota I finally had a chance to see a doctor. We went in on January 8th for my first ultrasound. As we got closer to the doctor's office, I could feel my heart begin to pound. I didn't want to scare Ashton, but I was overwhelmed with the feeling that something was wrong. I didn't even see a doctor that day, just the nurse who did my ultrasound. She started and it was obvious - there wasn't a baby there. The tears started. She told me we didn't know if anything was wrong, that maybe my dates were off and I was just a few weeks pregnant vs. 8 weeks pregnant, and wanted to do an internal ultrasound. Still nothing. I was a wreck. She explained that I had a blighted ovum and would miscarry. That was it. She walked out and Ashton and I walked back to the car in shock.

I went in for weekly blood tests to follow my hCG levels all the way back to zero. Those weekly visits were unbelievably hard. I tried to go in without Ashton once and broke down in the lobby. Everyone was there with their families, showing off ultrasound photos. My nurse who did the weekly blood tests was an angel, the tender mercy I needed - she listened to me cry and her words filled me with hope.

In April 2014, it all happened again, on our way home from spring break in Chicago with my best MN friend sitting right behind me. I just started bleeding and it didn't fit with my cycle, so of course I called the doctor. A nurse told me to take a pregnancy test because it sounded like it could be implantation bleeding! Guess what - the test said I was pregnant! Back for more hCG loveliness...that gave the sad results of miscarriage again. We aren't sure how far along I was or what happened, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

They did blood tests and I met with a doctor to see if something was off and causing my miscarriages, but everything came back normal.

Now here we are,  May 16, 2016. I got a positive pregnancy test on April 22nd. Due to my history, I was hesitant to be excited at first, but I couldn't contain myself and instantly told family. I also told a dear friend who had recently told me that she was pregnant as well. I scheduled an appointment for my best guess at 8 weeks - I hadn't had a normal cycle and had only had two maybe cycles since having Rooney.

Not long after I scheduled my appointment, my back began to ache. I turned to the internet and learned back pain was a potential sign of miscarriage. My heart sank and I called my nurse. She told me to stop breastfeeding because it causes your uterine to contract and with my history, they didn't want to take any chances. I sobbed. The poor nurse probably thought I was crazy, but nursing was my favorite time with Rooney. (It still makes me cry thinking about how I can't comfort her like I used to, that I will never look down at her eating, rubbing her hand across my chest, and smiling back at me. I loved and cherish every single one of those moments.) Other than that, the nurse wasn't too worried because I wasn't showing any other symptoms.

May 10th - my ultrasound. I had Ashton ready with his phone to capture the joy, all our excitement, and the happy tears I was sure I would shed. We start the ultrasound. I see something similar to our first ultrasound back in Minnesota and I knew. I didn't cry. Mostly because my doctor was so optimistic. Based on my inconsistent cycle, I could very easily only be 5 weeks along, instead of the 8 we thought. He also commented on how round my gestational sac was and that the yolk was there and everything looked healthy. He wanted me to come back in a few weeks.

We didn't even make it a week before my nightmare came true.

My emotions:

Since this last one just happened, my emotions are very raw.

While you might think a miscarriage is a miscarriage - that isn't true. Each experience has been different. My reactions haven't been the same either.

My first miscarriage was lots of crying and crying for a very very long time. It also turned me into a bitter person. I am so ashamed of that part of me...

After the first one, I thought I wouldn't miscarry again because statistics said I wouldn't.

My second miscarriage was such a shock, it completely caught me off guard and I still hadn't recovered from my first experience. Because of my previous loss, when I saw the positive pregnancy test I didn't know if I should shout for joy or curl up and cry because it could happen again.

My third pregnancy was my success. It was my Rooney Ann. BUT I spent all of my 38 weeks and 1 day of pregnancy on edge. I was paranoid. I was anxious. I couldn't sleep until I felt her kick, I couldn't get out of bed until I felt her kick either. Several times a day, I would take breaks from my kids and run to the bathroom where I would plead with Heavenly Father to feel her kick so I would know she was ok. I spent my entire pregnancy in fear. And in the end, it was sort of a good thing as my paranoid pregnant self ended up saving my baby.

This one. I spent most of Saturday crying. When I initially started to miscarry it was just me and Roo at home. I was crying so hard I could hardly breathe. I was so mad. I am still mad. That is mostly how I feel this round. MAD - mad that I had actually started to think it wouldn't happen again. mad that I had got my hopes up for this baby just the day before. mad that I had sacrificed nursing and it didn't help. mad that my expectations of babies with 2 year gaps was ruined. mad that my bitterness could come back - I hate it and I don't want it to, but when people say things like, "we just had to think about having a baby and there he was..." I can physically feel my heart break into a million little pieces.

What's next:

I have talked to my doctor and we will watch to make sure my levels drop again and then we will be doing some more in depth testing.

I don't know if knowing there is a reason behind my miscarriages would help at all, but I feel like it could. I think it might give me more patience as we try to give Rooney the sibling she deserves (and needs if we ever want to teach her how to share!)

I imagine that this is something I will continue to struggle with as we try to grow our family. Maybe I will get used to it, but the pain will never go away. I will never not cry when I learn of someone else losing their baby. I will never not feel pain as I think of the children I don't have here on earth with me. But, luckily, I know families are eternal and that I will have the chance to raise all of my babies.

What I have learned:

- Trials can be a blessing. Lets be honest though - it can take a long time to see it that way and that is ok.

- I showed up to work many days and couldn't smile. I had lost a piece of me and most of my coworkers had no idea. I realized that I can't judge someone for not always smiling and saying hello to me in the hallway. We don't know what is happening in their life, just like they had no idea what was happening in mine.  - - - Love, no matter what & be slow to judge.

- Compassion. If I see anyone mention loss or struggles with pregnancy - I relate to them and most of the time I say something. I have built some very strong relationships with others going through similar journeys. I love them because they understand what I feel.

- Tender mercies are EVERYWHERE.

- Babies are miracles. They don't call it the "miracle of life" for nothing. The way everything has to work just right to make a perfect tiny human being blows my mind. And then I think about all of the people living right now, all the sweet babies born every day, and I am even more amazed.

- As I have opened up about my miscarriages I have been shocked by how many of my friends have experienced the same thing. There are so many going through the heartbreak of a loss.

- To be happy along the way - I remember talking to my dad in April, after I had miscarried again. He asked me a question that I still think of often. "Can you be happy along the way?" I still had so much to be thankful for and it took me some time, but I began to see that my Heavenly Father had a hand in my life as well as in those around me.

Tender mercies:

- My mom flew out to Minnesota during my first miscarriage and spent a whole week with us. I needed every second of it.  I don't know that I can ever thank her enough for being there when I needed her most.

- Flowers/Cards/Texts from friends and family. Just knowing that others were thinking of me lifted me up and gave me extra strength.

- Don't be afraid to ask for help AND let others actually give you help.

- Friends who are going through it too:

1. My first two losses coincided with a girl I was friends with, but not necessarily close to. She got married three months before me. Had her first miscarriage three months before me. Had her second miscarriage three months before me. And finally had her sweet baby girl three months before I had Rooney. I don't think that she will ever know how much I leaned on her throughout my entire experience. Seeing her finally find success in pregnancy gave me so much hope! And because of the trials we went through together, I will always keep her close to my heart.

2. This last one happened with one of my very best friends since high school. She miscarried before her first, but I didn't know that until I had  opened up about my losses. She now has two kids. Right before I found out I was pregnant again, she had told me that she was just a few weeks along. But, like anyone who has miscarried before, she was hesitant to be excited about it. As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I texted her. We shared our thoughts, fears, and encouragement with each other.

Then we had our first ultrasounds. Her doctor wanted to wait until she was 10 weeks, but she asked them to do it earlier because of her history. Guess what? Our appointments were on the same day! Not only that, they were at the same time!

We both received similar news that day. That things were as far along as we thought, but that ultimately, everything might be ok. But we both knew what was going to happen. And we have told each other how grateful we are to have someone to face this with.

3. A girl I had met through a class in college recently miscarried. I reached out to her and told her Iw as here and she actually took me up on my word. She began texting me when she was sad or discouraged. And then, last week, I was able to go back to her and share my sadness.

- Rooney. How could I forget my greatest blessing, my tender mercy, my miracle, and my rainbow baby. She has made this so much easier. Before her, I thought that maybe I would never get to have a baby. She is here now to snuggle me and shower me with love. She is my motivation to keep going.

Grief is Grief

This is one of the greatest things I experienced as I was journeying through my first miscarriage. Here is my journal entry from that day.
_________________________________
January 24, 2014

I had another blood test appointment yesterday. I was feeling alright until I walked into the OBGYN. There were a lot more people than normal. Lots of couples. Many baby bellies. And a few families gushing over ultrasounds. It broke my heart. That excitement was mine and then it got taken away. I would have almost been 11 weeks by now. I hated it, but I was bitter. I was jealous of their happiness.

The nurse called me back and asked how I was doing. I lost it. I broke down. I am crying now. I lost someone I loved, which seems silly of me to say, maybe even a little dramatic, since a baby never completely "formed". But, I felt like a mother who lost her baby (and now as I look back at this post, I believe that is who I am and I have every right to feel that way). I was nearly inconsolable. The nurse was very kind and said things to make me feel better. She was patient and even got my hCG numbers so I could see if they were dropping.

As I left the appointment, my heart was heavy. I hated being that bitter, especially over someone's happiness!  How cruel of me. I said a little prayer, more like a huge, heartbroken plea for me to find comfort, that someone would let me know that they are thinking of me.

I ran some errands in attempt to hold off the tears, keep me busy. I got home and put on a tv show. Anything so I didn't focus on the hurt. Then I get a call from a dear friend who I look up to.

This friend miscarried a few years ago and then just a year ago had a stillborn.

She wanted to check on me, see how I was doing. I told her how hurt I was and she cried with me. I said something about how I can't even imagine the pain she must have gone though because she carried a baby for 9 months. She got mad at me saying that she wasn't calling to make me feel bad. She said, "Your grief is your grief. My grief is my grief. We all feel pain. Don't talk yours down."  How I needed to hear that! I am allowed to grieve! She said I needed to allow myself to get those emotions (the angry, the sadness) out.

_________________________________

I still struggle with this. I mourn, I grieve, and then I think how selfish can you be!?

I think of my friend who has fought cancer and struggles with infertility because of chemo. I think of my friends who have paid so much money for IVF - some finding success and others who are still trying. I think of my friend who lost her baby at 30 weeks. I think of those who are just finding out that their road to being parents will be long and hard.

Then I think of me and my family. I realize what I do have (Rooney, the ability to get pregnant so easily) and I get made at myself for complaining so much.

BUT I shouldn't be mad with myself. My feeling are completely allowed. This sadness is all I know. And I have to let myself mourn, cry, be angry, and feel all the emotions.

And you need to let yourself feel those things too. While feeling empathy for others is a good thing, comparing ourselves to them and their situations are not.

Articles, Posts, & Talks that got me through:

They have all said it better than me. If I could, I probably would've just copied everything they said and made that my post. If you see anything from this post - it should be these.

• Even though you miscarried, at least you know you can get pregnant - What not to say. I hope most of these are no brainers...but as someone who is struggling with fertility, I agree with them. Also, being able to get pregnant is great. But miscarrying over and over makes the thought of getting pregnant and going through all those emotions again...terrifying.
• Interesting statistics on what people with no medical background believe can cause a miscarriage.
• "It would be the last time that we would say, 'We are pregnant' without the quiet little fear that whispers, 'but what if it happens again.'" 
• "When the pathway of life takes a cruel turn, there is the temptation to ask the question, 'Why me?'"
• A mother's love
• "Actually, when I realized the simple fact that God can- and will- give us more than we can possibly bear, it got easier." 
• I have mixed feelings about this one (ONLY because when you know you are prone to losing the baby, telling the world you are pregnant might not be a good option), but I have to say, having people to support you through a miscarriage is so much easier, and way less lonely, than doing it all by yourself. So, lean on the support of friends and family.
• "Miscarriage changed how I saw pregnancy."
• "The bad feelings don't go away just because the event is over. You can't all of a sudden turn the switch on for happiness and well-being because you were in such a dark and scary place for so long...Happy! I want to be happy."
• These cards. She also has an instagram: ihadamiscarriage. I only recently stumbled across her stuff and she gets it. If you are looking for a card to get someone who is going through pregnancy loss, this is a great place to start!

I want to end with this.

"Infertility sucks for everybody it touches. But it's also it's own kind of wonderful, I think. Especially once the baby you've fought for is won. Those babies are spectacular; those babies are worth it. And in the meantime, you get to experience a depth of emotion that is pretty rare, and really very valuable. And hard and crappy. But kind of amazing, too. You get to tear up at perfect strangers when they do something kind for you in the middle of a really tough day. You get to sob uncontrollably through Johnson's commercials and the ending of About Time and any time you think about that one scene in Up. You get to ugly-cry while lip-synching Chandelier. You get to get really, really mad when you get even slightly mad--mad enough that you literally see red, over something as dumb as string cheese wrappers--and it's okay, because you're freaking hormonal and you're allowed to flip out, and this is hard, and blowing off that steam, that feels good. This last little bit has been ultimately, really and truly, very good for me. Grief can be cleansing. It can also rip you to shreds.

Sometimes it does both.

And isn't that kind of neat?"  --- Hey Natalie Jean

Everything she says resonates with me and I wish I could just give her the biggest hug for getting it. But her last part hit me hard. It is perfect. It is me. It is all that I feel and all that I wish everyone would understand. 

I hope Rooney knows how much I love her, how much I prayed for her, and how much happiness she brings me. The love I feel for her is so intense that sometimes I think it could make my heart stop. I feel so blessed to be her mom. I look at her in awe. All of that pain, hard work, and fear was absolutely worth it. And that is how I know what I am going through right now is worth it.

For all of you who have sweet babes - give them extra hugs and kisses because you made them and they are miracles.

For all you who get it, I am here for you.