My Loss Is Now My Greatest Strength

I look down at the stick in my hand still sitting on the porcelain basin in shock. My eyes refuse to acknowledge those not one, not two, but three lines; two of which are forming that dainty blue plus sign meaning only one thing. “I’m pregnant.” I whisper aloud as though verbalizing it will make it more believable. All these years of thinking that I was infertile and feeling like I was not whole, that I am not a real woman, ending in that one moment. After years of trying, tears, hope, and after finally getting to the point and accepting that it just won’t happen for me, here I am, pregnant. This is really happening!

I was happy, scared, sad, worried, and still thinking that somehow this isn’t real. That it too is a dream and I will wake up sterile. All the Doctor appointments and medication all pointed to that. Why would it be miraculously different now? I know I am no longer with the same man that I discovered all these facts with. It was one of the reasons we ended our relationship. Our relationship just couldn’t handle the childless future we thought we would be doomed to share, now this!

I ran upstairs to tell the Father too be. We both wanted this but both of us thought it wouldn’t happen. To know that not only is it happening, but happening as soon as we decided to try! That is rare even for fertile couples. Both of us thought we wouldn’t be successful without medical intervention of a serious price tag and here we are both wrong. I woke him up saying, “ I’m pregnant” and “we’re having a baby!” He was half asleep saying, “What? Are you sure? Wait your pregnant”?

I was terrified. I always thought that somehow this too would be taken away from us. I was never lucky and just like my life so far, I will have to fight to the death for this too actually work. The only thing is it isn’t I that has to fight. My baby will have to fight every day for its own existence. Will it be strong enough? Will I keep it safe enough to succeed? What will happen to me, to it, to us? Will I be the Mom I never had? Will my child be OK? I walked with these questions in my mind replaying every day. I could not get them out of my head any more than I could answer them and know the answers to be true.

* * * * *

I went to the rest room and l looked down and found the tissue was not clear. I knew this wasn’t good. I was 1.5 months along and spotting a little is ok, but not liked. It could lead to bad things I knew that. I refused to lose this without a fight. I immediately called my Doctor. He said this can happen and not to stress out about, relax and stay off my feet completely for the next 3 days. If it has not subsided or changes color in any way I was to call. I called my boyfriend to tell him the news. He of course thought it would be just fine. Nothing bad ever happens to him so naturally he thinks everything will be OK. It will go away.

* * * * *

I am now three months pregnant, I am still spotting all day long, and it is heavier than before. I now need to use feminine supplies, not a good sign. I am over at a friend’s house for support when everything changes. I call my Doctor and he tells me the bad news, the baby hasn’t grown and he is afraid it may have already passed away. He wants me to go the hospital immediately and get an ultrasound. If there is a heartbeat, we will play it by ear, if not we will have to terminate. I am crying as he relays the news. I felt like I didn’t do what I needed to do. I was not protecting my child. It wasn’t strong enough for my unlucky life and me. I felt horrible.
My friend took me to the hospital and my Doctor was right. Somewhere in the last few days, my baby had passed away and the ultrasound showed a very sobering sight. I didn’t hear that little heartbeat I had become so fond of. I called Mike and told him the news. In a few days they said my body will take care of the baby naturally and did not feel the need for medical intervention. They were right. Three days later while driving on Interstate 5 over the Oregon/Washington bridge the first contraction hit. I had no idea what had happened.

I was horrified and in excruciating pain. I was wondering what the heck it was. It went away quickly. I realized there were beads of sweat on my brow. What is happening to me I thought. It happened again, this time hitting me even harder, like a semi punching me in the stomach. It was like a menstrual cramp but 50 fold. Through the initial panic, I started to realize what must be going on. Here I was told it would be just a little heavier of a period than normal nothing major, “Oh, you’ll barely notice.” I remember the emergency room Doctor saying. Hardly Notice! HARDLY NOTICE? Who are they kidding!

Then the next one hit taking my breath away completely. I could barely steer my car. This sound came from my lips that I had never heard before. I didn’t even realize it was me. When it stopped, I felt sweat dripping into my eyes. I knew that I needed to get home before I get seriously hurt by hitting another car. I floored it. They were about seven minutes apart and I could get home in about five if I hurry. I looked down at my speedometer and it was in between 95 and 100 mph at this point. Luckily, everyone saw me coming and moved over one lane letting me pass. Thank goodness or polite north westerners!

I called Mike as I was coming down the hill asking him to help me out of the car. He was coming out of the garage with the girls when I came to a screeching halt. Then it hit. I screamed and he came over wondering what was wrong. I told him. He was getting the girls in the car to get food. He helped me into the house and said he will check on me when they get back. I had no idea what to do so I said fine. He came back and after him being gone for 30 minutes or so, I was in excruciating pain.


I was screaming for him on the third floor. He came down with the girls. I said I needed to go to the hospital and needed to go now. He was upset that I would not wait for the girls to eat first. I screamed either he takes me now or I call 911 and have an ambulance take me. He finally agreed. Right before getting into the car something came out. I knew for sure what it was and was shaking. It was really over. My baby was gone and I wanted to die. I hated Mike at that moment for more reasons than rationale but I could not cope with reality. I made him leave me at the hospital. I did not want him around me. I did not want him to have any part of this. It was my baby, my loss and he did not matter.

* * * * *

I look back on this now. I can smile looking at my baby bump, happily pregnant with another baby four months after I said goodbye to my first pregnancy. I was at first worried that the same thing would happen to me that happened the first time. In fact, I was so worried that when I saw the positive test result I immediately started crying thinking I will lose it again. I always loose. I am now in my second trimester and my friends affectionately say, it “stuck” this time.

No one knows why these things happen. They happen often. One out of every four pregnancies ends in miscarriage. No one talks about it. One word of advice I got from someone who had gone through this struggle multiple times before ever being successful said, “Don’t worry about if or when. Embrace the time you have however long that will be with this child. Love it as you would any other and when the day comes for success and you get to hold it, you were always its mother no matter what.” It is very true.

Some people choose to hide their pregnancy until they are 4 months along, but if this is what I wanted, why should I hide something that I am so happy about? Is it wrong or a dirty little secret to be hidden away? No it isn’t. I don’t want my child to ever feel that they needed to be hidden no matter what. It’s not about my look good, or keeping face. It’s a fact of life, and I’d rather embrace it rather than be a victim. Yes it happened, but I have an experience that I won’t forget and a child to look over me, forever - who can say that is a regret