I never thought these words would ever come out of my mouth. EVER.
I am grateful that I had a miscarriage.
It’s been almost seven years. It was around Thanksgiving and we went to Disney to celebrate the three-month pregnancy. After all, my doctor warned me that I might not be able to have children. He said with having endometriosis and being 39 years-old, my chances were slim.
It took about eight months to get pregnant and we were excited.
But when we were at Disney, I went to the bathroom and saw a little blood on my underwear, I panicked.
It was the weekend and I talked to the nurse. When I went in on Monday there was a faint heartbeat so I was relieved.
But then the weekend came and when I got home from work I noticed more blood. I went in the following Monday and they told me that there was no heartbeat.
I was devastated.
They told me to wait for it to happen naturally. That it would be like a heavy period.
Waiting was unbearable and I went back to work and pretended everything was okay. I watched pregnant women shopping and babies in baby strollers pass by. I did people’s makeup and pretended everything was okay.
After all, it would just be like getting my period.
I tried to convince myself it wasn’t that bad. It happens It’s part of the process when something doesn’t go right.
But then it started happening and I was running back and forth to the bathroom. No body at work knew. It wasn’t like getting my period. The emotional toll it took on me was unbearable.
I sat on the floor behind my counter and sobbed.
I finally went to HR and told them and took a week off. I called my mom and she flew in.
All I could do was cry.
I just couldn’t understand why. As I talked to people and opened I found out that it is common. But it didn’t make it any less painful.
Everyone was disappointed, not just me. My parents, my in laws and my husband.
There was a big cloud over the holidays.
The doctor said I could try again in three months.
But to think of it happening again was so scary I didn’t know if I could handle it again. I also felt guilty for wanting to try.
I wasn’t sure how long I was supposed to grieve. Three months didn’t seem long enough. I had just lost a baby.
Some people undermine a miscarriage if the fetus was only a few weeks old. I realized that when I told people I was only three months along.
What if it was a girl?
Inside my body was a living being. I felt it. My body was changing and it was growing rapidly. I wondered if it was a boy or a girl and I would have found out with the new blood tests. But I didn’t get to find out.
My dream of having a family was gone. All the special memories of when I found out I was pregnant and when we went to Disney were now lost.
What would I do with the pregnancy test I saved as a memento? I just looked at it and cried. I cried for the loss of something I never knew. A life, a child, a memory.
We decided to try again. I got pregnant within a few months.
I was scared. I analyzed every cramp and movement or lack of. I prayed. I cried. I stressed. I turned it over. I let go. Repeat.
When it was time to have the baby, things didn’t go as planned and there was a problem with the baby so I went in for a C-Section.
It was scary and crazy and beautiful all at the same time. His cry was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. He had my heart and my fears slipped away as I held him.
I am grateful for the miscarriage, you see, because I had the most perfect son I could ever imagine from all of this. I trust that a higher power was involved in this situation. I will never know why I had it. But I could never imagine my life without my son. Without the miscarriage, I would not have had him. This unique, beautiful, sweet, angel that is now five-years-old.
“Sometimes it doesn’t stick,” people say. It sounds so artificial. But I get it now. Things didn’t come together as they should of.
Would I feel the same way had I not had children? I doubt it. As much as I trust that there is something out there taking care of us, I would always wonder about the life that could have been.
But I am still grateful because I have a story of hope. If I can give one other woman hope and let her see that she is not alone, that her journey is special, even after such a loss, then I am grateful.