Losing Everything: My Miscarriage

July 15, 2024

I want to preface this story with acknowledging that I had a really early miscarriage. It was before 6 weeks. This means that probably the baby had poor chances from conception. That something was really wrong, and it was just a matter of time before the pregnancy wasn't viable anymore. It's not really that comforting to be told that, because it was real to me. Some women might not have even known they were pregnant with an early miscarriage. They might have just though it was an extra heavy period a little late. 

But I was much aware of the circumstance. And it was a pivotal moment in my life. 

After finding out we were pregnant at just about four weeks, which you can read all about in a previous post, we jumped right into planning the future with this baby. They would be due June 28, 2024. The perfect timing. We'd graduate in April, find a new job in May, get all settled in our new house throughout June, and then welcome our baby the end of the month. 

We always said Dallin would cut his hair when I got pregnant. So the first person we told was a nice lady at a cheap hair-cutting spot. It was fun to see all our plans come to life. Dallin looked very handsome with his fresh haircut. And it was our little secret. 

Then we pulled out my mega paper calendar, and started planning our semester around when we could tell our families the news. We decided to plan a random trip to Washington for early December to tell my family in person! I remember texting my mom and brother excitedly to get a date all planned. To keep it under the wraps, I simply wrote a purple "P" on the dates we planned to tell people I was pregnant. 

I set up a meeting with my favorite professor to tell her I was pregnant.

And I added in my google calendar the day I would be 6 weeks, when I planned to call an OBGYN office to make my first appointment. Then it was a waiting game. 

Some few days after getting those initial positive pregnancy tests (both lines and digital), I decided to take another test so I could see the line be darker. I casually peed on a test one evening while we were working on our pop-up camper renovations. I was shocked when a line didn't appear. Not even a faint one. I remember running out to the camper, trying to hold my tears back to show Dallin. He was convincing me it was a faulty test, or that I should wait for my morning pee. That's when my google searches started showing me things like: chemical pregnancy, miscarriage, etc. 

With a tear stained face, I drove to the nearest grocery store and bought another pregnancy test. An expensive one. 

The next day was a Thursday. I woke up early to take the test. Negative. We stood there for so long staring at the screen with only one line. Willing another one to show up. I've never prayed so hard. I remember whispering "Please still be pregnant. Please still be pregnant." But no line ever showed up. I think that whole day I just cried. 

Eventually I called the doctors office. I told them I had tested pregnant a week ago, but now my tests were negative. Part of me was assuming they'd say, "oh that happens all the time! Come on in and we'll do an ultrasound." But one in four pregnancies end in miscarriage. And I'm sure this isn't the first time they'd gotten the phone call. The next available appointment wasn't until Monday. The receptionist told me I would start bleeding by then, and to just use a pad. All I could do was cry. 

Saturday came, and we were gone camping. I only packed one pad because I was in denial. Surely I would get to my appointment on Monday and they would tell me this was all a big mistake, and that I was still pregnant! But then I woke up around 2am with terrible cramps. I tried so hard to fall back asleep. But then I could feel wetness in my underwear. I walked out of our camper, in the crisp October air, and pulled down my pants. In the middle of the forest. With my phone flashlight, I hesitantly aimed the light at my pants. Blood. I just stood there crying, half naked, until Dallin came and helped me get situated. 

My doctors appointment on Monday just confirmed it all. The doctor was incredibly kind and sensitive to me, and I often go back to think about things she told me when I feel myself invalidating the experience.

The next week was the most painful. I still had classes, and commitments, and a life. But I had to do it all while bleeding and cramping. Something oddly painful was the fact that I couldn't use a tampon, because it was miscarriage and you're supposed to go on "pelvic rest." So I couldn't ever forget about it. It was messy, and painful. 

I have a hard time sharing about my experience, because I wasn't pregnant for very long. And as mentioned earlier, if I wasn't trying to get pregnant, or didn't have a regular cycle, its likely I never would have even known I was pregnant. It's funny that this all could have been avoided had I waited a week to take a pregnancy test. But I know we endured this for a reason. 

Any amount of time that a woman is pregnant is precious. And every day you go knowing about a growing baby exponentially strengthens your love for that baby. It is a type of love I had never felt before. Not for my siblings, not for my parents, not for an ice cold lemonade. Not even for my husband. It is a love so intense, it makes every moment being pregnant so exciting and special. So when that was all taken from me, no matter how early, it was painful. 

The reality is... whether I was pregnant for 5 weeks or 5 months, I was pregnant. And we had planned our lives around my being pregnant. I felt all the emotions of being pregnant. 

And then I wasn't pregnant. 

And we had to un-plan our lives. And I felt all the emotions of losing a pregnancy. Even if those two events were close together, my emotions are valid, and my experience was painful. 

A few months later, I wondered what to do with the pregnancy tests I had, the bracelet from my doctors appointment, and the $2 onesie I had bought from the thrift store. I decided to make a little memory box for my baby. I ripped out my tear-stained journal pages about the events, and added it to the pile. I printed off a "bump" picture I had taken after finding out, and wrapped it all up. On the outside of the box, I wrote the quote from an unknown author, "Before I carried the pain, I carried you. And in my heart, I carry you still."