The sad thing is, that's what ignorance does. THAT is why so many women are speaking up today. Because no one deserves to be judged like that after losing a child, no matter what the circumstance is. Whether she's single, considerably young, considerably old, been told she can't have babies and tried anyway, a recovering addict, in a bad relationship, the list goes on.
There are so many ways to judge someone for their loss, but the fact is that most miscarriages occur because the fetus isn't developing properly - and that's that. There's nothing anyone could have done differently to bring about a different outcome.
So when I was pregnant with my first in 2014, the thought of losing him never once crossed my mind. Who knew that it happens to 1 in 4 pregnancies? Not just 1 in 4 people.. 1 in 4 pregnancies. That's A LOT.
When I showed up to my regular scheduled ultrasound at 20.5 weeks, it was a total gut punch when the ultrasound tech stopped everything and walked out of the room to get the doctor. Right then and there, I had no idea what was happening but it was like I knew it was over. The fear, the overwhelming sadness, the confusion all took over and my tears started pouring out.
Once I was in the hospital room surrounded by family and nurses, I finally started to calm down and feel hope that he could make it. The fight wasn't over.
People from church called my mom and told her stories, their own or a friend's, they said if I stayed on bed rest he could make it. I believed! What hope I had from others sharing stories.
I just wonder how different things might have been if I had heard more stories before even getting pregnant. What if I knew how common miscarriage is? What if I knew what incompetent cervix is? Or knew that skin to skin contact has saved lives?
My son ended up being stillborn at 21 weeks. Read the full story here.
It's taken me years to adjust to this new life. Stillbirth is one of those things that marks a turning point for a mother. There's life before this, and there's life after this. You're not the same person and you're life is not the same. People leave your life who could never understand, and people come into your life who are amazed at your strength and help you when you need it.
In January of this year, my husband and I experienced another form of loss that was also totally new to both of us. We had an early miscarriage at around 6 weeks.
We had been trying to get pregnant for a couple of months and were just waiting for the day that I could take a pregnancy test and see results. Finally that day came. I took the test while he was at work, and cried pure happy tears when I saw the positive results. I was so excited to tell him that I ran to the store and bought a cute onesie and a box to put it in. I set up a whole surprise with cameras and all to capture his reaction, because I knew he would be the cutest. It was such an amazing moment.
That week, we worked out other surprises as ways to tell the family. We took his family dinner and gave them a puzzle to figure out. Their reactions were the best!
It was the best 2 weeks expecting to have his child. Even after what I had been through before, we decided to not let the fear of what could happen get in the way of our joy. It was very early, but we were so ready for this baby.
And then early one morning I woke up while he was at work and saw some spotting. My heart dropped. I got back in bed and hid under the covers praying it was nothing more than just some regular pregnancy spotting. I had friends praying too. As soon as the doctor's office opened, I went.
The first step was for me to take a pregnancy test. I sat and waited with the nurse for the results. We waited. And waited. "It doesn't look like your pregnant," she said.
Again, the tears came rolling down my face. I was so broken hearted again. Not only that, I was angry. She was ready to dismiss me and send me home.
"I took 2 positive pregnancy tests 2 weeks ago." I told her. I showed her pictures of the very visible pink lines. She looked at the pregnancy test again.
"You know what, I do see a very faint line."
I demanded to have an ultrasound. They were going to have to prove to me there was no baby in there. The ultrasound tech pulled it up, and there it was, a tiny little fetus that hadn't grown past the 4 or 5 week mark.
The doctors and nurses were so nonchalant during this. I almost felt like I shouldn't even be crying based on how they treated me. But the fact was that we had just lost our baby.
They called it a chemical pregnancy. Another doctor called it a missed abortion. Whatever that means. I don't care what they call it or how careless they want to act about it, a miscarriage is a woman losing her baby. And in this case, it was my husband too, and his family, and my family. All of us, here again, losing a baby.
I don't think anyone could ever know how incredibly hard that 48 hours was for us.
And even 2 months later, when we did try again and found out we were pregnant again - that loss was with us. We were in fear. Our family couldn't be nearly as excited as they were the first time. It was just so hard to feel like this baby wasn't getting celebrated the way she deserved.
But if there's one truth that my experiences have taught me, it’s that every story matters. Every loss is different. Every story deserves to be shared - not just for the family with the loss, but for the girls who didn't know this could happen or who thought they were alone. We need each other’s stories.
If you experienced a loss and didn't grieve much - there's someone out there feeling guilty for not grieving and needs to know it's okay. If you experienced a loss 10 years ago and still cry every day - there's someone else out there who needs to know they're not alone.
For many women who lose a child, no matter what the situation is, we wonder what is wrong with us. We don't just question what is wrong with our bodies, but what is wrong with our psych, and our womanhood. We question what is normal? What does the future hold?
At least I did.
So I encourage you to share your story this October with the hashtag #ihavefootprintsonmyheart
Share your story in the comments, share it on social media, babycenter or your own blog. Scream it out so that others know your baby existed and someone may find your story their saving grace.