I had a miscarriage

This is the hardest post I have ever written. And I’m not entirely sure where to start, so I will just start from the beginning. 

On Friday morning, when I was 8.5 weeks pregnant, I had went to the bathroom and found a tiny amount of brown blood. I tired not to panic. With Leonie I bled a bit as well. I prayed it would stop soon.

As the day went on, it kept showing up whenever I wiped. But I still tried to remain positive. We attempted to call the doctor but weren’t able to get through before they closed so I was prepared to wait it out over the weekend because I didn’t want to have to go to the hospital. 

On Saturday, we had a big trip to Augsburg planned. We were finally getting out after being on lockdown since December. I had been looking forward to the trip all week. But when I woke up, I was still spotting. It hadn’t increased but it also hadn’t stopped. Manuel and I debated not going. But I really wanted to. And I knew that sitting at home all day would just leave me to search every little twinge on Google. Which is never good for my mental health. 

We tried to put it out of our minds as we set off on a family adventure. When we got to IKEA, I went to the bathroom and the spotting had stopped. I was so relieved. I thought that maybe it was just a subchorionic hematoma like with Leonie and all was good with the baby. So I was able to relax and enjoy shopping. Then we had a “picnic” lunch in our car and seeing Leonie’s joy and excitement was everything I needed to put the spotting completely out of my mind. 

Next up, we headed to the zoo – Leonie’s first trip to the zoo. And even though the weather was cold and windy, we still had such a wonderful time. I know I will cherish that memory forever. 

After getting back home, I went the bathroom again only to see that the spotting had returned. At this point I knew I couldn’t hold out until Monday and I knew I needed to be seen. Manuel was able to call the after hours line and got me an appointment with an OBGYN within the hour. 

Because of COVID, I had to go alone. And driving there, I was having some pretty intense cramping. My body knew what was happening but my mind was still holding out hope that maybe this was normal. 

When I arrived at the doctors office, he was ready for me. It didn’t seem like we were going to determine the fate of this baby as he tried to joke and laugh with me. I laid down on the cold bed so he could preform an ultrasound. I prayed to God that everything would be ok. 

As the ultrasound began I was surprised to see how much the baby had grown since our last ultrasound two weeks ago, when we first saw the heartbeat. The baby was currently measuring at 8 weeks. It now looked like a real baby and not just a small dot. But my excitement was short lived.

I couldn’t see the flickering of a heartbeat on the screen. The doctor was silent for awhile as he moved the wand around. It seemed like he was desperately trying to make a heartbeat appear as I clutched my hands together and tears started streaming down my face. 

Even though we had been speaking in German he said “I’m so sorry” and I knew that this was the end. He kept trying to comfort me and I tried to hold it together because what do you even say to someone in that situation? I’m sure he had seen it many many times before. 

Then we talked about what the next steps were. He said I could go home and just relax. Call the hospital on Monday and schedule a time to be seen. Unless I started bleeding heavily then I would need to go to the hospital immediately. But since my cervix was still closed and I was only spotting – he thought nothing would happen over the weekend.  

I know he was trying to be helpful with using a bit of English mixed in with the German. But he kept saying the word “abortion” in English. And each time it made me cringe. What an ugly word. I wasn’t choosing to abort this baby that was already so very loved. So while he meant well, it made a hard situation even harder. 

After leaving the appointment, I just couldn’t call and tell Manuel the news over the phone. I made the drive home and I think as soon as I walked in the door, he knew. We held on tight to each other and Leonie. I was so thankful for our perfect little girl in that moment. But now I know what it feels like to be holding your first child tight, while losing your second. 

We got Leonie put down to bed and I was adamant that I just wanted to take a shower and relax in bed. I went to get undressed when I realized I had starting bleeding really heavily. And ultimately I knew that I needed to go be seen at the hospital when the intense cramping started. 

Driving to the hospital alone, again because of COVID, it was pouring down rain and dark. It felt like God was crying with me. I made my way to labor and delivery – a much different experience than when I was there the last time giving birth to Leonie. 

I was checked in by a nurse but told the wait would be awhile because of shift change. I took a seat in the waiting room and waited for about an hour. During that time, the cramping was intense. It felt like I was going into labor again, which I guess I sort of was. 

By the time the doctor got to me, I knew I was bleeding badly. I was asked to take off my pants so they could do an ultrasound and immediately blood went everywhere. Clots were all over the floor and I couldn’t get myself to even look at them. 

I put my legs in the stirrups and the ultrasound confirmed what I already knew – the baby was already out of my body. But there were other pieces still left. 

The next bit was a bit of a blur. The nurse tried to put an IV in my hand but wasn’t able to get it in the vein. The pain from the digging of the needle was almost a relief to the pain that my heart was feeling. She moved on to the other arm to try again and I knew I was going to pass out. I quickly threw myself across the room onto the bed to lay down which certainly shocked the nurse a bit. It is moments like this that my German knowledge seems to always fail me. And that makes a tough situation even harder. 

After I was able to take some deep breaths laying down, they got the IV placed, drew blood, started a drip, and a new doctor came into the room. 

He said they were going to prep me for surgery and they would have to put me under. He said that normally, they can just give a local anesthetic so I could be awake but I had lost too much blood. He didn’t feel comfortable giving me just a local. And he needed to put me all the way down in case something happened and they needed to do more. 

Between him telling me this, and arriving in the surgical room, it was about 10 minutes. I had just a quick second to text Manuel “they are putting me under. I will be here awhile”. Poor Manuel probably was confused and had no idea what was going on. 

An hour later I was awake and being wheeled to recovery. All I wanted to do was call Manuel but my brain wasn’t quite working right and I couldn’t remember his phone number.

I tried to just relax and close my eyes until they were able to take me to a room. At this point it was past 11pm and everything was dark and quiet, which gave me time to think. 

I was taken to the same style of room I was taken to after I gave birth to Leonie. Just one floor above. I had the same diaper and mesh underwear I was given with Leonie. And my body was physically and emotionally exhausted, just like with Leonie. But this time I was alone. No sweet baby next to me. No joyful post-birth bliss. Just a lot of feelings and emotions that threatened to swallow me whole. 

We had just announced the pregnancy last week and we were so excited to share our happy news.  Should we have waited to announce? Should we have kept our pregnancy a secret? As I laid in the hospital bed, I was thinking about that. 

And you know what? I’m glad we announced. I’m glad we got to share the joy with everyone for the short time that baby was with us. And even if I don’t understand it now, I know God has a plan. And having the support of our friends and family is what will help get us through this. Women shouldn’t feel shamed or pressured into waiting to announce a pregnancy in order to spare the difficult feelings of others in case of a loss. 

Miscarriage is a hard topic but it isn’t one that should be ignored or kept quiet. So many women have shared their own stories with me recently and maybe you have a story to share too. 1 in 4 women do. 

Not only did we lose a baby but we lost the future dreams and plans that we had for you. Would you have been a boy or a girl? Would you be sweet and fearless like your sister? Would you be smart and funny like your Papa? We will always wonder who you could have been.

My story is sad, but knowing that I had a beautifully perfect little girl to go home to after my surgery kept me going. I know not all mamas are so lucky. So today, don’t feel sorry for us. Because while it might feel and look like I am broken now, I know there is a rainbow after the darkest storms.