The Whisper of Hope

Trigger warning: A sensitive story about a miscarriage is spoken of in this blog post.

            We are visiting family for Christmas. My hubby comes from a big family of ten children. The youngest sibling is 22 now, so it’s a ton of fun with so many of the older siblings having kids around Lil G’s age. My hubby’s family has a tradition where each sibling only gives to one other sibling for Christmas. This year we are giving to a sibling who lives near their hometown. So we decided to trek up to Idaho for Christmas. 

            As I look out the window at the white landscape, and frosted windows I had a thought come to me of our last Christmas. It was also spent with another sibling, and their family. Before we talk about Christmas 2015 I want to go back a little in the time line. My hubby and I had decided, before we went to Taiwan that year, that we would try and start having our second babe. After a few months there was no progress. A combination of low body weight due to stress I was experiencing from finishing up my Associates, and still nursing Lil G at night time, had made it difficult for me to get pregnant. After finishing up my Associates at the end of April we tried changing my diet to help with my low weight. I increased the healthy fats by eating more avocados, nuts, and other dietary changes. I stopped nursing my son, which was not an easy thing. Imagine a few days of blood curdling screams and sobs when I wouldn’t nurse him to bed at night, finally calming down to a few days of snuggles and tears, and then finally just snuggles but only letting mommy put him to bed. With all these slow changes we still had not improved our success of getting pregnant.

            The hardest time came in October. I was getting more stressed as each consecutive pregnancy test showed negative. I was sad, confused, and hurt. Especially when family or friends would ask when we would have our second babe. It had seemed like it would be easy since we got pregnant with Lil G so fast. I wasn’t ready for the questions, and I was so frustrated I often wanted to shout, “We’re trying! It’s not some magic trick!”

            October of 2015 we were getting ready to go out to a Giant Pumpkin weighing contest. Seriously they are 300 lbs-1ton pumpkins being competitively weighed. The last few days I had been feeling crampy, bloated, and emotional. All of which were very good signs I might be pregnant. I hadn’t wanted to take a pregnancy test this month, because I didn’t want to jinx my chances. That morning as we were getting ready to go I had felt even more cramps. I was about to leave when I felt some pressure, and cramping. I decided to go to the bathroom, when I got up to wash my hands I saw it. A little fetus, barely developed, but still obviously there, I stood there in shock. It wasn’t the panic of seeing something like that. It was the fact that I was seeing the potential of what….I had waited so long to be growing in my womb. I cried as I stood there in shock. My potential babe..I didn’t know what to do. 
           There aren’t any classes or suggestions about how to handle that kind of situation that you hear growing up. It's not mentioned much in health classes, or from your female family members. No body tells you what your heart, and body will then feel. No body tells you much about miscarriages. It’s one of those things whispered between women. Acknowledged and mentioned when talking about getting pregnant. Some women will say, “well there is always next time.” Or something to the effect of, “your little one is in heaven now, and you’ll see them again some day.” All of which you acknowledge with a small smile and a thanks, because there isn’t much more to say. That’s also one way to tell that they haven’t had a miscarriage before.
         A miscarriage at any stage is hard on the body. The longer you’re pregnant the harder it is. I had only been pregnant for most likely a month, and a few weeks. I was able to pass the entire baby with out needing extra help through medication, which is something else they don’t tell you you would need to do if you do have a miscarriage. I didn’t even know about needing any kind of medication until I went to an appointment with my midwife a few months later. I didn’t bleed horribly. It was more like a heavy period after I passed the fetus. But your body was holding a baby, and the hormones in your body were also taking care of a baby. So then you start feeling the loss of all those hormones.

As I stared at that little potential of life that had now left me, I could feel it, the change in hormones in my body. The flush of hormones, like the feeling you get just after you deliver a normal term baby. It’s like when you feel the blood rush from your head after being upside down, or when your face goes white and you feel flushed from something scary. I was surprised that my body responded in such a way. I didn’t think my body would do anything if I miscarried early on in a pregnancy besides cramping, and maybe some spotting. The rush of hormones made it even more saddening, because it made it even more personal. It was a feeling I associated with delivering my babies….not when loosing one. It also made it undeniable. I had lost a baby, and it wasn’t just a big clump of tissue.  I then flushed the toilet, and sat on the floor of our bathroom letting the tears roll down my cheeks.

As I sat there trying to sort my feelings out my husband opened the bathroom door. He took one look at me, and just pulled me into his arms. After a little he asked what was wrong. I told him what had just happened. He let go of a deep sigh and just quietly said, “I am sorry sweetheart.” He held me for a little longer asked, what I had done with it, and nodded his understanding when I told him I had just flushed it. I didn’t know what else to do. He then asked if I needed a minute, and I said I did. He went back out to play with our son while I stayed in the bathroom to collect my self. Then when I came out he said, “Okay, ready to go?” I had completely forgot about the Giant Pumpkins. My world was a little different now, and that seemed like such a small priority. I didn’t want to go outside, and act like my day was fine. I was a little hurt that that was what he asked me, but I just nodded yes. That was my first indicator that people…people just wouldn’t get it. If you look at some of the pictures from that day you can tell something wasn’t quite right. I look distracted, even when I am smiling. Not a lot of the smiles reach my eyes, but I kept going. We went to the giant pumpkin weighing contest, and I played with my son, and I kept going.

Later, I talked to a friend who also had a miscarriage when they were getting pregnant with their first child. She had been further along then I was, but when I told her about it you could tell she understood. She didn’t offer pity just a simple, “I am sorry.” And we both sat in silence for a little. Then we both discussed the response we got from others we had told, and realized that in our culture there isn’t much discussion about how to deal with, or comfort some one who had had a miscarriage.

A month later I was invited to a friends baby shower. I wanted to go, but didn’t at the same time. It still hurt that so many of my friends were announcing their pregnancies, or how close they were to their due dates and I….wasn’t. I went any ways to the baby shower. Once again you can see in some of the pictures that it was tough for me. Nobody there new I had been trying to get pregnant for so long, or that I had had a miscarriage. It’s not something you talk so openly about. Yet, when I saw my friends swollen belly, and bright smile, and I was able to place my hand on her belly to feel that little life moving. It both hurt, and helped me. I knew there was always a possibility that we would just have to wait longer, and that some day we would have our own little miracle. I realized I needed to wait so I could heal my heart a little more from this miscarriage. That night my hubby and I decided to hold off on trying to get pregnant. We decided that we would wait till the next spring to start trying again.

The holidays commenced. We celebrated my Lil G’s birthday as well, and for Christmas we left to go celebrate with the sibling we had been assigned for that year. It was lots of fun. We went ice-skating outdoors at night, saw the new Star Wars movie for the second time, and played with the kiddos in the snow. But I had started to feel cramping again, and new it was about time to start my period. I was cramping so bad that I had to lay down at one point, and curl up around a heading pad. I didn’t think much of it, because I get cramps like that some times, and we weren’t trying to get pregnant any more. We went home after Christmas celebrated the new year at our house, and then around Martin Luther King day we went back up to Idaho. I still hadn’t gotten my period.
 I often over pack on clothes when we take these extended weekends, but I also always forget one thing. This time it was more diapers. Due to some of the days fun I ended up not getting diapers until nine o'clock at night. I decided on a whim to try a pregnancy test thinking that I might as well just see. I hid the test in my bag at the bottom when I went into the house with the diapers. I didn't want anyone else to know, especially my hubby. If it was negative I would be fine. I knew I could just brush it off, but I couldn't handle seeing that hope in my hubby's eyes, and then him trying to brush it off too.  I snuck into the bathroom later that night, and took the test. As I sat on my in-laws bathroom floor I took some deep breaths, and I just listened to the chaos of all the cousins pretending to be asleep upstairs so they wouldn't get in trouble. I felt so blessed to have such a wonderful family to raise my kids with. After a few minutes I looked at the test, and this time…this time, I finally got to see that positive test result I had waited so long for. I still waited a few more weeks to tell my hubby, I was nervous about loosing this little hope too. Around the first week of February I told my hubby the news.

As I sit here looking at my now three-month-old little boy I think of everything that I went through to bring this beautiful life here. He is a very smiley, giggly, wiggly thing. So full of life, and I am glad that for whatever reason, he made it to my arms. I know not every woman has such a good turn out as I did. Some wait years, and still do not get to see that positive test result. Some become mother’s to babes whose own mother’s couldn’t take care of them. However you become a mother, I truly feel that that little life is the greatest hope for good in the world, and you as a mother the greatest influence for change. But for now I just wanted to add my simple,” I am sorry,” and a moment of silence, and a comforting shoulder. I don’t understand what it’s like for every story, or every kind of miscarriage. But I can say that I empathize, and it’s okay to mourn the, “could have beens”. Take time to heal, and know that one day, it will be okay to hope again.

Have any of you felt that the discussions for preparing women about what happens to a women when she miscarries is terribly taboo? How do you think society should handle this differently, or even how it should be taught in our own homes differently? Please be respectful of others experiences if you would like to share an opinion.