One in Four Pregnancies

I miscarried.

And I waited and waited to write that here, because I wanted to say it right. I wanted to write it well. I wanted to really capture it for myself for later, so it doesn’t get shuffled around and dismantled in my own memory, bumping against board meeting dates and grocery lists until it’s just a few little bits of deja vu and a blip in my medical history. I wanted to write it as I felt it, the realities of it, the physical pain, the emotional process, the concerned friends, the crazy dreams. If I couldn’t give this baby its life, our love, and a closet full of hand-me-downs, I at least wanted to hold some space around the short time it was with us. After all, I was the closest person to it. I at least wanted to give it a decently-written story. But I can’t.

Our baby died, and I didn’t know it, and my body stayed pregnant for weeks. And then my body figured it out and a few hard days later, I wasn’t pregnant anymore.

I started spotting the day before my 12 week midwife appointment, and I knew.
The bleeding got heavier the next day, and I knew.
I laid down on the ultrasound table in the dark and held A’s hand, and I knew.
The technician couldn’t find the heartbeat, had to do an internal ultrasound, and I knew.
She told us the baby had died, and I was surprised anyway.

She left us alone for a minute in the dark, next to a bulletin board full of photos of newborn babies, and then led us out the back door instead of through the waiting room, where other women were waiting for happier news.

We met with my midwife directly after that, agreed that my body could handle losing this baby without a hospital D&C (thank goodness), returned home with a bottle of painkillers and cleared our schedules for the rest of the week. Birdy went to daycare as usual for a few days and we stopped bracing for the worst and started to let it pass slowly through our house.

That Tuesday was hard, and the next day horrible. By Thursday I was feeling stronger but not ready to be alone, so we splurged on take-out, cleaned out closets, mopped floors, and made a Goodwill run. We kept our plans to travel to Atlanta for my cousin’s wedding over the weekend, and it was good to celebrate something, to balance again.

Not the right time to have a baby, not the right baby, not something. I don’t know, and I haven’t spent much time wondering. What I do know is that our plans changed, and I’m newly reminded that my plans don’t really belong to me in the first place. That I don’t control very many things after all, and there is relief and comfort in that knowledge. It wasn’t the right time for us to have another baby. If it was, I’d still be pregnant. It’s that simple. Simple, but not easy.

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11 comments

  1. Anonymous

    I am soooo sorry to hear about this. Again, I read your blog religiously and just love you and your writing. I went through a miscarriage over a year ago and the only thing i could remember thinking is “why”. Through the tears and pain and all that follows, i finally came to the conclusion that the reason for the loss was not my fault and that something would have been wrong with my little bean. I started to become ok with it over time and learned within 4 weeks, i was again pregnant with my now 1 year old son. (**pregnancy happens VERY fast after a miscarriage b/c your body is ready :)..just fyi!! I would not have my son now if it was not for that miscarriage. You and A will get through it and Birdy will have a sibling very soon. Prayers are sent your way during this difficult time. Keep your head up…it happens to 1/2 of all women. No reason sometimes. Its hard, nontheless. Take care of yourself 🙂

  2. Jen

    Oh, Mama Snee. I’m so sorry to hear about your loss. I’m humbled by your strength, courage and honesty in this post. Simple, but not easy sums it up perfectly. My thoughts are with you and A. The right time will come. Hugs to you.

  3. Tami

    I’m so sorry. I also had a miscarriage several years ago. But it took me another year to get pregnant again. Now I have 4 kids but you’ll always remember this one too.

  4. Anonymous

    I am a religious reader of your blog – you don’t know me, but I feel like I know you and your family. I am so very sorry to hear of your loss. You are all in my prayers.

  5. Anne

    You may not remember me, but we went to the same high school. I have been reading your blog for awhile now and felt compelled to post a comment to this entry. I had a miscarriage at 13 weeks this July.Isn’t it amazing how many people tell you that they’ve experienced the same thing? It’s like no one talks to you about it until your in the club. I hope you are feeling stronger each day.

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