Two months ago I had a miscarriage. I was 11 weeks along, just days from telling you, when I started bleeding. It was very light spotting at first—the slightest tint of pink. I was scared, but then again I’d heard that spotting can be a part of normal, healthy pregnancy, so I tried not to panic. I called my doctor and went to an appointment that day. The NP didn’t seem concerned and said light spotting in the first trimester isn’t too unusual. She wanted to give me a shot of RhoGam (crucial when you have a negative blood type like I do) and do an ultrasound to make sure, but they weren’t sure if they could fit me in and since it was Friday, I’d have to wait until Monday. The spotting seemed to stop after the appointment so I was feeling less worried. But on Sunday, it returned and was a bit heavier, more like light bleeding. On Monday, I had the ultrasound and right away the woman said the fetus looks smaller than 11 weeks and then confirmed there was no heartbeat. I was devastated. Lying there on the table as she finished the exam I just kept thinking about the future I had imagined. I loved the idea of having another baby, and so soon. I pictured James growing up with such a close sibling. I loved how it gave us some flexibility in thinking about whether we wanted to have more than two children. I was excited to do the baby stage again even though I knew it’d be tough. I was grieving for my sweet baby but also trying to make peace with a future that wouldn’t happen as I planned.
We talked about the options. The doctor felt like I probably didn’t need surgery and prescribed cytotec and sent us home. On the way out of the office, I went to the bathroom and was bleeding worse. Daniel said that it was like my body was holding onto the baby until I knew for sure it wasn’t alive. Over the next few hours the bleeding became so severe that I had to go to the emergency room. I bled through three pairs of underwear, three pairs of pants, a dozen pads, all over the stairs and the bathroom. The bathroom in our bedroom is all white—white tile, white walls—and by the time Daniel came upstairs to check on me it was like a crime scene. I was faint. We drove to the emergency room. I was bleeding constantly, through the thickest, doubled-up pads, down my legs as we checked in, releasing these massive, grapefruit-sized clots that made me woozy. As it turns out, I was hemorrhaging, so badly that I lost consciousness. The on-call OB was able to give me something through my IV that slowed the bleeding. A nurse, the kindest, most gentle angel, washed me down, changed my johnny, put a diaper on me, and I remember lying there, unable to help her at all, thanking her over and over, turning my head while I tried stifling a sob at all her grace when I had none.
Hours later, I was able to go home, with meds to finish the process.
All of it left me heartbroken, in a darker place than I ever could have imagined. I’ve had depression for decades and yet this wave of it hit me like something new, and worse. As much as I could recognize that yes, of course, it made sense that I was feeling sad—I lost my baby—I have to believe that a lot of the darkness was hormonal because it wasn’t just grief. It was joylessness and anxiety and intense fear that I’d never feel any different than I did then. I tried, over and over every day that followed, to “let myself be sad” like everyone in my life rightly told me to, but inside I was screaming, I can’t! I can’t be here with this feeling for even a second longer! It felt impossible to sit with my pain because that pain felt like fire all around me, urging me to get up, get out.
I talked to Daniel about how bad I was feeling, probably a hundred times a day. I talked to my mom, my sister-in-law, my best friend. It helped in the moment, but it’s always very hard for me to reveal whatever pain I’m in. I wish it wasn’t, but I guess to me it feels like I’m laying this massive problem before my loved one. The codependent in me can’t just leave them with it, unsolved and somehow burdened, so I work overtime trying to show them—prove to them—that I’ll be fine, that I see all the logical, rational ways I could reason my way out of it. I don’t feel this with Daniel, but with everyone else I do. And I guess the reason is, I just don’t believe that anyone can fix me when I’m broken down (a flawed belief, but still).
Maybe during the first week after my miscarriage it was easier for me to be kind to myself, understanding that I was processing a loss, but that justifiable understanding was quick to leave. I hated that I couldn’t pull myself out of this pit of despair I’d fallen into. I thought often about all the thousands—millions!—of women who’d suffered far, far more traumatic and heart-shattering losses, which was less a way of shaming myself and more an attempt to find peace in perspective.
I should mention—I don’t have a way to button up this post. I haven’t felt right since, even though there have been many, many moments of joy and fun and excitement. I still feel as though I’ve lost that baseline contentment I had before miscarrying. The only thing that has helped or healed is…time. Of course. Time is so good like that, isn’t it, buffing all the sharp sides of pain to softer nubs that you can at least hold in your hands without cutting yourself.
I don’t have a lesson or a point, really, just more compassion, understanding, and space in my heart for all the women who wish their babies were here.
Time wounds all heals. Grief is exhausting, and complicated. It’s cliche but true that it comes in waves. There will be a new normal, I’m so sorry for your loss.
Oh Andie, I am so sorry for your loss and what you have been through. Sending nothing but love and positivity your way and praying for your pain to lesson a little bit each day. Hugs.
I’m so sorry. I’ve had two miscarriages, between my 2 children, and I was completely caught off guard by the depth of depression I felt. Having no history of depression, I was way out of my element. I too, had many hopes for age spacing between kids that had to shift. Thank you for sharing. I will pray for healing for you ❤️
I am so sorry to hear about the loss of your baby. You have every right to feel deeply sad and even angry at the situation. I thank you for sharing your very personal story as miscarriages affect a lot of women and I think there is often some solace in knowing that you are not alone, even though each situation can be different. I lost my second baby, my first daughter at 18 weeks, after I went into early labour. It is also classified as a miscarriage and the bleeding you describe, I also experienced with spotting from 12 weeks and then severe bleeding afterwards and then again after a D&C. Please ask your doctor to monitor your iron levels. I suffered from anaemia afterwards and found it very difficult to look after my 1 year old son.
My condolences to you and Daniel. Take this time to be gentle and kind to yourself and let Daniel be the person who cares for you while you recover physically and eventually some emotional healing will come to you both. xxx
This happened to me 9 years ago. I drove myself home from work squeezing my legs together. My mom eventually had to bring me to the hospital and it was discovered I was hemorrhaging. They took me in for an emergency d&c. I always think about the baby that could have been. It took years to heal that loss.
Andie, I’m so sorry for your loss. Thinking of you guys!
Oh friend..in addition to a miscarriage you had trauma and A life threatening scare. I chose to have a D&C when I miscarried at 12 weeks (also when my first was a baby). I can’t imagine how hard it would be to go through extended period of time letting the “process complete itself”. I’m so very sorry.
Also I remember my sister who had multiple miscarriages reminding me that I was pregnant and had the same post partum and pregnancy hormones in my body that I had after having a baby…I just didn’t get the baby with it. Something to definitely remember.
So please…take time to heal and be gentle with yourself. I’m so sorry for the loss of your baby. Much love to you ❤️
I’m so sorry for your loss. I had a miscarriage after my first child was born and it hit me like a ton of bricks. For months I was jealous of other women who were pregnant and just felt like I was suffering in silence since no one else knew except my husband. It took a good five months for my mind to let go of the grief and we got pregnant after that. Be kind to yourself and your body and take as long as it takes to process the loss. <3
Time will ease the grief of what was lost, but you’ll never forget. I had An early miscarriage at around 9 weeks, and I still think about what might have been whenever the would be birthday gets close, even though I’ve had 2 healthy daughters since. You describe depression in the closest way I’ve ever seen it described. Be proud of yourself for talking about it. You’re doing the right thing. And if meds end up being what you need, my feisty bright youngest daughter was born healthy despite being on 100mg Zoloft from ppd with my first. Everyone’s experience is so different, and no one can really say they know how someone else feels. You’ll be ok, mama. You have a great support system. Keep asking for help when you need it.
Oh Andie, I am so very, very sorry for your loss. There are no words for the pain and anguish. And the depression you are feeling is beyond words. If at all possible, KNOW that you have come through depression before and that there IS a light at the end of this seemingly endless tunnel. Sending you lots of love and positive, healing energy. <3
I’m so sorry you had to go through this and for your loss <3
Sending you so much love. I know that pain. And thank God for sweet nurses who try and help us feel human in the worst times. Thinking of you as time goes on and I am so sorry you don’t get to bring home this child.
I am so very sorry for your loss. You write so well and have inspired me so much with my weight! My prayers are with you and your sweet family.
You are so brave. I’m so sorry for such a heartbreaking loss. I’ve had two very early losses and it gave me the slightest taste of the pain you and so many women have felt. Wishing you (and Daniel) healing. Thank you for sharing the highs and lowest of lows so we all know we are not alone.
My second pregnancy was also a miscarriage. It was so very hard for me because my husband felt it was a sign to not have more children. Probably the hardest time in my life. I was sad to lose the baby, but the sadness of maybe never having another baby & the fear I couldn’t get pregnant again or that I’d have another miscarriage consumed me. But baby 2 followed pretty soon after. Sending you all the best thoughts and prayers.
Andie, I am so very sorry for both you and Daniel. My first miscarriage was at 12 weeks, and my experience was very similar, minus the hemorrhage. When I finally had my sweet son, I hemorrhaged following his delivery and it really affected my ability to function. I read sometime after that we should never downplay the role trauma plays in our ability to recover. Your loss was absolutely devastating and sad, but the manner in which it happened was traumatic. I can only imagine that must make the grieving process even more complex. I say this to hopefully encourage you as you grieve and heal. These situations are never easy. And there is no set timeline for recovery. However long it takes is really ok. My mantra as I’ve faced years of anxiety has always been, “it won’t always feel this way”. I hope those words might be of help to you too.
I am so sorry to hear this, Andie. What a heartbreaking and scary experience. You’re brave to share with us and I wish you the best as you muddle through. <3
I am one of those women who”wishes my baby was here”. For myself and for my daughter, an only child. My husband died just 3 years after my miscarriage and I never had the chance to have another child. I feel for you so deeply. Give yourself time to grieve, be kind and patient with yourself and cherish the love you give to and receive from Daniel and James. I read your book several years ago and was moved by your story and your strength. I have faith that you will feel whole again in time. Much love and prayers to you Andie❤️
Hugs, Maggie.
It doesn’t get better, but it does get different. Sending hugs and love, my friend.
So sorry that you have to go through this Andie. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your sweet family.
Hi Andie, I am so sorry for your loss. I commented on IG, but also wanted to mention that your pain and trauma are not invalidated because someone has suffered worse. If there is ever a time you feel lead, I found Dr. Edith Eger’s book, “The Choice”, to be a beautiful memoir about trauma and healing and how to reframe our losses. Sending love, hugs, and prayers.
I’m so sorry, Andie. I miscarried after my first child, too–very similar experience to yours (almost 12 weeks along, no heartbeat, had to go to the ER because of heavy bleeding)…and then the whole experience dragged on FOREVER because my body was having a hard time releasing all the tissue, so I’d have 2 weeks where I thought the miscarriage was over, then I’d start bleeding again. I finally had a D&C after 10 weeks of on again, off again bleeding. It was a nightmarish experience. I’ve often thought that miscarriage isn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy. Not only is it devastating emotionally, it also wreaks havoc on your body. Be gentle with yourself. Take comfort in the fact that you are not alone. So many women have lost babies, and it is awful every time. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
I have followed your blog for years and years and years, occasionally posting a message. You have no idea how many thousands of us have you in our hearts, thoughts, and care. Please get the care and professional therapy you need, kudos for reaching out. Can I just say, because I mean it, we love you SO much! One day at a time. That’s it. One morning, followed by one afternoon, followed by an evening. Again, please get the professional care you need, and allow yourself to be helped by the people who offer. And ASK for their help. One more time: take it one morning, one afternoon, one evening at a time, with professional help. That’s IT. MUch love.
Thanks for being brave and posting this. Can’t imagine the loss and trauma you went through. Take good care of yourself. We all love you from afar.
I have so much pain inside for different reasons, but your description of the pain you feel is spot on. I wish I could tell those around me that I am not okay and will never be okay again. But instead I smile and mask my pain for the sake of others. Why do we do this? G-d Bless you. Survive and Thrive.
I’ve had one too. It does leave you shattered for a good while…
The only thing I ever managed to take comfort in was reading that little ones choose their Mum’s in heaven, and even though they know their time here will be very short, they still choose you to be their Mum.
Thinking of you and Daniel. Be good to yourselves xx
You may not feel you have a lesson or point with your post but I think you open a door for so many mummies (and daddies) to know they are not alone. Nothing ever compares to your own personal grief, each loss is unique and un-measurable, but by sharing together we learn that we can keep going, never the same again but we do learn to accept what has happened, share love with others and rediscover another happiness. There is no right or wrong way of dealing with it. Keep breathing, your strength is there but never be frightened to ask for help. Love from across the sea x
Dear Andie
How awful that this happened to you. As the other readers say, a miscarriage is indeed a trauma. I have been there too. The grief one then feels is so immense and so painful; but by letting oneself feel it (and not push it away), afterwards you will be able to move on.
You will know in your heart at that moment how to do that. At that time, do whatever it takes to shake off what has happened – even if it means going away for a short, fun break with Daniel. In the meantime, focus on your wonderful son and all those who love you. I wish you much strength.
PS. I remember my midwife [I’m in The Netherlands, where pregnancies are usually managed by midwives] telling me at the time that women are more fertile after a miscarriage. It was true! As soon as my body recovered (and that took several months because I bled for ages afterwards), I got pregnant immediately!
hugs… you need rest. you need hugs. you need to know how Brave you were to share this pain. Time…..yes, time will always soften the pain in your heart. Hopefull that you will feel more like yourself after a normal period… (if not, please talk to your doctor). Relish in the miracle of Daniel and James…lean on your tribe. This is hard….its ok to grieve. Love you!
Tears stream down my face as I read this and truly feel for you and your loss. I am so sorry are experiencing this. Sending positive thoughts and support your way.
Oh precious Andie, praying for your heart today. I am so sorry
Hi Andie,
Thank you for sharing this post, and I’m so sorry this happened. I had two early miscarriages in between my second and third child and it was such a whirlwind of emotion. First, I went through the first trimester craziness and then I sunk into a pretty bad depression that lasted for a while. I would not discount the effect that hormonal changes have on your body. It’s insane. After my second miscarriage, my OB suggested I wait at least 3 months before trying again. I used those months to focus on myself, my family, and to heal. It takes time. Good luck with everything, and know that you are not alone in this!
Andie, I am so sorry for the loss of your baby and your dreams. Miscarriage is so common yet culturally we usually don’t talk about it so we often are alone in our sorrow. Thank you for giving voice to y(our) grief. I know you will be of immense help to others. And, in that spirit, try to summon the courage to allow others to help you. It will be a gift to both them and you. I too read your book and it seems you have felt you had to carry the weight literally and figuratively all your life. Those who share your love also share your loss. Give them the gift of allowing them to comfort you.
Andie and Daniel, I too am so very sorry…I work as an OBGyn NP and almost everyday have to tell ladies their pregnancy is a non viable one. Sadly, it is an all too common occurrence, as almost 1 in 4 pregnancies end this way. This does NOT belittle what women (and partners) deal with emotionally. It is a loss of dreams. I’m so sorry you had a difficult time. It is never easy as a provider to tell women of their loss especially when they are surprised by the test or ultrasound results. Sending many, many hugs.
I am so very sorry for your loss for both you and Daniel. It is a sad and grief-filled time that is necessary to mourn the loss off your baby. I’m hoping your depression has lessoned. I’m sure you have been in contact with your doctor about it. Love and BIG hugs are sent your way.♥️ Time heals. Enjoy sweet James, that ray of sunshine!☀️☀️☀️❌⭕️
Oh Andie, I wish there were magical words to alleviate your grief, and to assuage your pain. Please know that I am holding you in my heart, and in my thoughts.
I’m so sorry for your loss.
Heal. Sorry for your loss of baby. Rest. Feel better soon.
Andie I’m very sorry to hear of your loss. I can relate; I went through the same thing many years ago and I’ll always remember the pain and depression I had to go through. At the time I was totally shattered. It’s a pain that nobody should have to experience. For me the best solution was to get pregnant again as soon as my doctor approved it. I was very scared throughout that pregnancy that the same thing would happen again. I did experience some bleeding early in the pregnancy but the doctor attributed it to a low placenta. For a few weeks I was put on bed rest. After I got through the first trimester it was smooth sailing and my memories of my miscarriage became less relevant as the pregnancy progressed. After nine months I gave birth to our daughter.
The pain from a miscarriage is always there but its relevance soon fades when you are able to move on. I know that you’ll be able to have a successful pregnancy again. Just keep sharing your feelings with your close family and friends; it does promote healing. I wish you nothing but the best and as you heal emotionally you’ll soon be able to move this to the back of your mind.
Dear Andie,
I’m so sorry that this happened to you. I had an early miscarriage about 9 months before conceiving my son. It was such a dark and sad time in my life, and I felt that I was worried for my entire healthy pregnancy. I can’t tell you that it gets better because there is no telling when the darkness ends. The only thing that helped me was to slow down, breathe, and try to focus on the positive. I hope that you find some relief.
Dear Andie, I have been trying to find the words to write since I saw your Instagram post yesterday. First, I am so very sorry. I felt such a connection to you reading your book, as though the words you wrote came straight from my very own heart and now here again I feel a connection, but now in a way that I wish I could erase for both of us. I am ever so fortunate to have a beautiful 5 year old little girl who I had no idea when she was born would become my miracle but I have spent the last 4 years of my life riding the happy high of pregnancy followed by the devastating blow of miscarriage. I have 5 angels now. Looking at this photo of you, I feel it to my core. I see your eyes, your broken heart and all of your pain, you are not alone. As you already know, time will heal your wounds, you will put one foot in front of the other, some days that will be all that you can muster, other days there will be more. The scars fade but they’ll be forever a part of you. Thank you for sharing your heartache and vulnerability, it is not only healing for you but it is important for other women too. We need to keep talking about miscarriage, so many women suffer alone and endure insensitive and hurtful comments because of a lack of education and knowledge on this type of loss. You are brave, you are beautiful, you are strong and you will feel peace again, I promise. My heart is with you. This too shall pass. <3
I believe there is a reason for everything Andie. I went through 3 miscarriages but know it made me realize just how precious children are….how much of a gift they are. I held on to my son a little tighter through it all and we have a bond that is amazing. He is 26 and he was my antidepressant! Your son is the key to getting through. Enjoy each moment with him and know what a miracle it is for a child to make it safely into this world.
By the way….I did eventually have a daughter who is strong, beautiful and my best friend. She is 22 and I can’t imagine life without her. Im not sure she would be here if things went differently. I left it in God’s hands and He seemed to make it all work out. Grieve, as I did but afterwards know the future has so many possibilities and “now” is in your hands! Your post is beautifully written and you are helping others with it. Your pain is oddly making others feel like they are not alone. You are in my prayers!
Dear Andie, Thank you for sharing this. One in four pregnancies end in miscarriage, yet Doctors seem reluctant to discuss the possibility. I miscarried at about 3 months, and it turned my life upside down. I turned into someone I didn’t know, and thought I would never heal from the emotional pain/sadness. Yet, I am a “Mental Health professional.” All I can say, is be gentle to yourself, grieve as long as you need, with no apologies and know that all the feelings you are having are normal. Losing a baby is gut wrenching, even when you have another healthy baby. My thoughts are with you Andie. Be Well. xxx
Andie, I am so sorry for your loss. It brings back lots of memories of my miscarriage 19 years ago…also having to go to the emergency room as the bleeding did not seem it would stop. I have 5 kids: 20, 18, 16, 13 and 10. I kid you not THIS MORNING I was thinking about that miscarriage as my 18 year old went back to college 6 hours away just yesterday. This morning I lay in bed thanking God for that amazing kid, his joy in all he does and how he enhances our family. I thanked God for his wisdom, for that baby we lost that was not growing, and for Seth who came quickly after the miscarriage. You are all in my prayers!
So sorry to hear about your devastating loss. Please be hood to yourself and try to stay strong. I know how strong you are. Sending love, Kathy
I am so sorry you went through this!
The only thing I can do is gently encourage you not to give up. You have one child, thus you have shown yourself that you can have another child again some day if you want to.
Thank you for talking about something so personal and painful. The more women talk about miscarriages, the more the topic is destigmatized and thus women will feel safer in talking about it with others and can heal somewhat more quickly instead of suppressing the emotional pain and suffer in silence.
You rock, Andie! Don’t give up!
Cheers to you and 2020! I can’t wait for you to write a new book as I already have your memoir & cookbook! :)
Take care!!! :)
I’m so sorry Andie. Thank you foe your eloquent sharing. Please don’t hesitate to get help from a trusted and qualified physician. Depression can be chemical and you might need meds in order to recover. Please seek additional help if you need it.
I am so sorry for your loss. Prayers for you.
I am so sorry for you and Daniel. I am sure this post will help others to know they are not alone in heir sorrow. Sending love! God bless you and Daniel.
I came to your blog because I just finished your book and loved it but then I saw your post…. I’m so sorry to hear of your loss and what you went through. I had a miscarriage at 11 weeks also. Healing takes time. I’ll pray for you!
Different personalities respond to situations in life very differently. I think you waited to share because your grief was so deep and you wanted the comfort of those who love you to pray for you. I will pray for healing for your body and your soul. As a Christian, we believe that every little baby that dies goes to heaven which is a perfect, loving place to grow up. May God’s blessings in this New Year come to you and your family.
My heart goes out to you and your family.
Andie and Daniel – I’m so sorry for your loss. Please take good care of yourselves, including seeking medical help for the depression. You will survive and even thrive after this loss. Take the time you need to grieve and heal. Sending hugs.
Hi Andie! Me and you were probably miscarrying around the same time. I too had a miscarriage. The day before Thanksgiving this year. I was 7 weeks pregnant, so not as far along as you, but still painful. I know exactly what you’re going through. Some days it just catches me and I get emotional. Like the day I was going to announce it to my extended family. This too was a second pregnancy for me too. Hope you’re doing ok and if you ever need to talk I’m here.
Sending you the biggest hugs and love.
Time will heal, and you will be ready to try again. I remember being relieved after my miscarriage, because I wasn’t feeling pregnant and my body wasn’t changing as I had been reading about. There was still a time that we grieved, and we were ready to start again once the dr. said it was okay. Be kind to yourself.
I hemorrhaged after having my baby the day after this past Christmas. It was so traumatic I’m still processing it. I’m sorry for everything you lost.
From one Andie to another Andie, I’m thinking of you. My body is also recovering from a miscarriage last week and it was by chance that I saw your post just now. I’m grateful for you sharing this. There’s definitely a solidarity in knowing we’re feeling this together.
There were a few things I didn’t know about miscarriage before now – one was that there’s no way to stop one once it’s started, and the other that it happens to 1 in 4 women. That’s a staggering statistic and it makes me sad that there’s still such a taboo around it. I’m determined not to hide what’s happened. I’m not exactly broadcasting it to my colleagues but there’s a few close ones that I’ve told. But of course when I tell people I usually cry.
I don’t know what recovery looks like and I’m sure it’s different for everyone. Take care of yourself, Andie.
My heart aches for you and with you. My miscarriages devastated me. I felt the future was bleak and joyless. It made me angry when doctors would tell me,”Eighty percent of women (or something like that) who have 2+ miscarriages, go on to have a healthy baby…”
I was so angry with God.
I think you are doing great with talking about it. I don’t know how healing happens…. but love is a major part of it. Talk to a professional if need be. Get placed on medication if that may assist with getting you out of the pit. Name your baby, have a mini-funeral or celebration of life, donate $ to a cause for children in memory of your baby…. those are some ideas. Do what is true to you.
I’m thinking of you and visualizing you held in supportive, soft, loving and protective hands of your guardian angels.
I am so sorry for your lose. I hade an 11 week miscarriage as well. It was my first pregnancy and I worried I would never carry a baby to term. My due date was March 6, 1985. My first son was born In August of 1986 and my second in October of 1989. In the many years that have passed I will sometimes write the date March 6 and remember the little baby I lost but say a prayer of gratitude for the 2 sweet boys I have.
Take care of yourself. Hug your husband. Keep in touch. We are all here for you.
Andie,
I’ve never had a miscarriage, but my first child was born premature. I blamed myself, I sunk into a deep dark depression that ended with me trying to kill myself. Four and a half years later I still wonder what I could have done better, what I should have done instead? What I’ve learned (and try to remind myself of) is that for as much medical science we know, there’s so much more we don’t know. In medicine things don’t necessarily happen, as they say, “for a reason”. So, for as much as you want to, you have to resist the urge to blame yourself. You should mourn, you have to; it’s part of the greiving process. But then, you need accept. That’s the hard part. Even after having two, healthy, on time babies after my first, I still struggle with the acceptance part. I think, though, you and Daniel, can do it: Stare medical science in the face, and if you want a second child, say “f*ck it” (pun intended). You’ll never forget the child you lost or the trauma you experienced. Unfortunately (and maybe fortunately), you’ll probably always carry that with you, but slowly, over time you’ll learn to coexist with it and accept it as part of your story
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Hi Andie,
I can definitely understand and empathize with what you went through, even though I am not someone who has lost a child. My best friend actually lost her second baby during delivery. Her first and following pregnancies went okay. She tried for so long to push that second baby out, but the doctors finally told her she couldn’t wait any longer on a c-section. Sometime during the move to the OR, blood stopped getting to the baby’s brain. When they went in to get him out, my best friend’s uterus ruptured and she hemmoraghed. She made it through, but is scarred physically and emotionally for life. She and the dad decided to take the baby off life support after 3 days of zero brain activity. He was without oxygen for ten minutes. I was at the hospital during all this, and I’ll never forget how panicked the dad looked when they shooed him out of the OR. I was terrified I would lose my best friend. Thank you for sharing your story. My best friend has a stuffed bear that she calls Eddie’s bear, after her son who passed, and the two surviving brothers take turns sleeping with the bear. They always have birthdays for Eddie each year as well, just small private family affairs. I hope that you find comfort in the knowledge that you are not alone in your loss and that you also find a serene joy in your new pregnancy. My friend’s last (3rd) baby was her little miracle that helped her heal, even more so than her first born. I hope your new baby does the same for you.
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Andie, it took me quite some time to read your post, though my heart broke for you the first time I saw it. The only advice I would have given you in the moment, and it still applies. Is don’t minimize your pain because others ‘have it worse’. This is something I’ve had to remind myself of over and over. My husband of 24 years left me (we’ve been together since we were 12 years old) and I used to rationalize the pain by saying other women had it so much worse. Their husbands beat them, or cheated on them. Mine ‘just’ fell out of love with me. But after a lot of therapy I was able to see that my pain is just as valid as anyone else’s and that my pain doesn’t minimize anyone else’s suffering. It is just my experience.
Congratulations on your new coming boy. I wish you all the joy he will bring. xo
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I was nine weeks and found out today I was no longer pregnant and my blood levels dropped and my ultrasound showed an empty gestational sack. I figured Monday my baby was gone but was told officially today… my doctor prescribed me misoprostol, hydrocodone, and haproxen to start my misscarriage since my body hasn’t recognized iv lost my baby ad I have no bleeding or symptoms. I was supposed to start today but I’m not ready. I know the baby is gone I’m just now ready. I’m so sad and hurt. I’m 28 this would be my first baby and my boyfriend was so haply and picked out her name. I try to stay busy but I’m just so sad. I can’t stop crying