Miscarriage

This post has been a long time coming. Really it's going to be two posts, because there is quite a lot to tell. I've always meant to write down our story with infertility, but it never seemed like quite the right time. I never felt brave enough to go back and relive all of the pain and heartache, so I've put it off. But now that we are expecting, and I sit down to write about this pregnancy, I feel like I need to start at the very beginning.

Also, I feel ready to share this, partly because we finally are getting our miracle, but also because I feel like I've been able to put the other experiences firmly behind me. Moving to Utah has helped with this a lot. It has allowed me to move on in a way that I never found possible while still living in New York City.

I don't want to sound too dramatic about these experiences because I know there are a lot of couples that have experienced far more trying, painful, heartbreaking, and devastating events than us. I suppose you can always say that about any life experience--that someone has gone through worse. But I don't think that discounts the difficulty of your own personal trials. This story is ours, and it's been hard, hard enough at times to make me feel weak, broken, and inadequate, among dozens of other emotions. It's hard to describe all you're feeling when going through a difficult experience that tests you for all your worth. Only those who've experienced similar things can really understand.

We started trying for a baby in the summer of 2009. We were anxious and excited at the same time, hoping that soon we would be expecting a little bundle of joy and wondering if we really were ready to be parents. Month after month went by with no results. It was a bit disappointing, but we weren't too worried about it at the time. Brian was in his last year of school, and I was still working full time. One year later we still had failed to conceive, but by then the possibility of moving to NYC had turned into a reality and that became the focus. If you've read our blog from the beginning, you know all about that story and how that came about. Big life change to put it mildly. We concentrated our efforts on making the move to and daily life in the big apple work. And it did work, although it was hard. When the four month internship turned into a permanent job, that concentrated effort continued and starting a family remained a far second on the list.

In August of 2011, we found out we were expecting. It was a surprise even though we'd been trying the whole time. I remember the weekend we found out. That Saturday we went to a local street concert, and I remember sitting on one of the metal chairs in the street and just feeling so tired. I could barely keep my eyes open. It was fairly early in the day, and I'd only been up for a few hours, and I remember wondering if I was getting sick. We didn't stay very long at the concert before walking back home, where I fell asleep for a few hours. I took a pregnancy test the next day, which happened to be our fifth wedding anniversary, and when it came up positive, I was so shocked. I think we both were in shock. It'd been two years of trying and hoping, and now it had finally happened. Honestly, my first feelings were fearful and anxious. How would we make this work in our one bedroom, 4-floor walk up NYC apartment? It took a few days to wrap my mind around it before I began to let feelings of excitement creep in. We called our parents and siblings to tell them the news, and everyone was so excited for us. I remember sitting on our futon making the calls and feeling so happy to be able to share the news with our family.

I asked the other mothers in our ward for referrals for a good OBGYN, and found a doctor that most everyone liked and went to. I called and scheduled an appointment with her--they wouldn't see me until week 10. After weeks of waiting and starting to feel a bit nauseous, the day arrived and I met Brian in the city for our first appointment. It was now September. After checking in, filling out all the paperwork, and getting my vitals taken, they took us back to the examination room. I recall that our appointment was around noon, and we heard the Dr. make a fuss to one of the nurses in the hall about seeing us during her lunch time. I had scheduled the appointment 6 weeks ago, why did we feel like they were squeezing us in, like we were an annoyance? I brushed all that aside though, because it was finally time for the ultrasound. We were so excited. Brian stood by the table and held my hand as we impatiently waited to see our baby on the little black screen for the first time. Finally, an image of an amniotic sac came up, but it was empty. There was no little peanut, no blinking heart. Just an blank, black void. We were at once in shock and heartbroken. I don't know how it's possible to feel nothing and everything at the same time, but that's how it was.

The doctor left the room so I could get dressed. I remember Brian hugging me, and we just stood there in silence for a bit, not knowing what to say. We met with the doctor briefly in her office. She explained that there had been a fertilized egg that had attached itself to the uterine wall, but something went wrong or the embryo may have been abnormal and it failed to develop. It's called a blighted ovum. I remember sitting there and hearing her words, but nothing was really registering. I was just blank, empty. I didn't like that doctor. Not because of the ultrasound results, but because she was very harried the whole time, and although she expressed her sympathy, it was overshadowed by her brusque manner. She explained that I would miscarry --probably in the next week or two-- and I could let it happen naturally or have a D&C. I decided to just let it happen at home. We left with instructions to call if anything went wrong, and to come in for another examination after the miscarriage occurred.

I vaguely remember leaving the office, and riding down to street level on the elevator. Brian didn't want to go back to work right away, so we just kept walking until we found a little diner and decided to stop and get some lunch. I ordered french toast, Brian ordered lobster and steak. The food wasn't particularly good. We talked and took deep breaths and decided that we would be okay. Brian went back to work and I took the subway home.

About a week later, sometime in September, I miscarried. (TMI warning) I didn't realize just how painful and traumatic it was going to be. Luckily, I had talked to my mother-in-law Kris a few days before about it. She had told me that there would be a lot of blood. There was. I sat in our little bathroom feeling the pain get stronger and stronger. I think I was having a panic attack during the entire process, because I felt short of breath, really hot, and tingly all over. I thought for sure I was going to throw up. I have a phobia of throwing up, so that just made the panic worse. There was one pain that was really intense and then I decided to get into a warm bath. Not sure if that was a good idea or not, but the water helped ease the pain. Everything passed soon after I got in the water, and I drained the bathtub. I refilled the bath and Brian came to sit by the tub. The water started to turn red with all the blood, so I drained the tub again and stood under a hot shower, until the flow started to slow down. I'm glad Kris warned me about the blood, otherwise I would have thought I was bleeding to death. The whole process took maybe an hour. I'm glad it happened so fast. In hindsight, I wish I would have gotten the D&C and saved myself the trauma. I wasn't prepared at all for that experience. Now I know.

A few days later, I was back in the Dr.'s office. I had another ultrasound to ensure that everything had passed as it should. Everything looked fine, and I had the okay to go home and wait a few months before trying again. Everything was physically fine, but I had a hole in my heart.

I went home and life started again. I began my writing work once more, and kept busy in between with laundry, cleaning the apartment, and daily errands. Daily life marched on as it's wont to do, but I was having trouble moving on inside. My mind raced, trying to understand. I began to wonder if it was my fault that we had lost the pregnancy. Maybe the pregnancy ended because I had felt those initial feelings of fear, uncertainty, and not wanting to have a baby in NYC. Had I wished my baby away? I know now that these were irrational thoughts, but I was grieving and trying to make sense of it all. We hadn't lost a baby, but we had lost this dream of a baby. It was a hard time for both of us. We talked a lot, we cried a lot, I received more than one Priesthood blessing.

I didn't feel that I was strong enough to handle this challenge. I felt small and embarrassed because I'd had a panic attack during the miscarriage. I felt bad because I wasn't emotionally or spiritually strong enough either. I yearned to understand why we'd had a miscarriage after conceiving had taken so long. All I've ever wanted to be is a wife and mother. I've always felt so strongly about being a mom--like that was my purpose, what I was made for. So I didn't understand why it hadn't happened yet, and why when we'd had this chance to become parents that it ended so abruptly. I couldn't just be content with trusting God. I felt like my faith was weak. I beat myself up for feeling all of this.

We are fairly private people, and didn't tell a lot of our friends. Only a few knew. My visiting teacher Ann was so great during this time. She'd experienced a miscarriage before, and totally understood what I was going through. It was really good to talk to someone who was so sympathetic and understanding. She helped me to be more patient with myself as I worked through my emotions and began to heal.

As the weeks and months passed, I began to feel better. Although I still didn't understand why, I started to feel like myself again. I started to feel hope and happiness again. We started taking weekend trips out into the city to see the sights again and life returned to normal.