*The following post may be a bit graphic but is being done solely for the purpose of helping those going through the same thing. It is not for pity, and it is not to start a debate about how old a fetus needs to be in order to be a living being. If you know of someone going through a miscarriage, simply offer support- not a discussion on whether or not they should be upset. It is a unique experience for each person. Let them grieve how they want to, no matter how or when it happens.*
Dear Little One,
I am sorry. I don’t have the right words to explain how sorry I am that I met you under these circumstances, but I will try.
I am sorry that I won’t feel you kick. You won’t keep me up all night with acid reflux, or give me more tiger stripes on my belly- I’ll miss that.
I am sorry that I won’t yell for your Daddy to come and feel you bouncing in my tummy.
I am sorry that for whatever reason, I won’t hold you in my arms again.
You won’t meet your big brothers earthside- they would love you so much.
I am sorry that you won’t keep me up all night and have me feel simply grateful to have you, no matter how tired I am.
I am sorry, that when I did meet you, I was in complete shock and did not handle it properly.
I am simply so, so sorry that I had to leave you somewhere that I couldn’t watch over you, and have you stay close to me.
My body failed- I am so sorry that I didn’t keep you safe.
I am so sorry that I now imagine that you are watching over all of us. That is not your job. Whatever you’re doing, wherever you are, just be a child. Be silly. Laugh.
I am sorry you couldn’t hear my heart beat stronger because of you.
I love you so much, and while I have to move forward, I will never leave you behind.
We all love you.
Love,
Mommy
On February 22nd…
I woke up feeling like I had a really bad menstrual cycle beginning. I was actually relieved to have it starting again, because since I had my Son 16 months ago, my periods were all over the place and extremely painful. I am still breastfeeding so having a weird cycle wasn’t odd. However, I felt like I couldn’t just sit still any longer and when I got up, it felt like I had lost control of my bladder. When I gave birth to Liam, my water was broken by a nurse while at the hospital, as a way of trying to not need medication to progress labour. I had no idea, that on this day, it was my water breaking. I had no idea that I was pregnant.
The rest of the day involved me laying on the couch and trying to ease what I thought was just really bad cramps.
Right before we had to get Liam to bed, I was cleaning up his toys and I just knew I had to go to the washroom to hide whatever was happening away from my 16-month-old.
I felt the need to push, and there he/she was. I sat there crying before even standing up because I knew. My life was about to change. I knew I didn’t want to look down and see what could have been. However, I also didn’t want them left there. Because of my shock and denial, I came out of the bathroom and told my SO that I think I miscarried but I couldn’t believe it and I needed confirmation.
My SO went into the washroom, looked down, and confirmed my worst nightmare.
Now what?
My SO kept saying he would take care of the remains but it felt like it was something I had to do. Liam gave me a bear hug, and I then went to hold my other baby.
I saw its arms, I saw its eyes, I saw my baby. Whether you agree that it is a baby at this point or not, this is MY experience and I am refusing to let anyone make me feel like what I am feeling is silly, or over “nothing”.
I could no longer handle the situation, and as I prepared our Son for bed, my SO put the remains in a box. I am so thankful for having a partner who was so strong during this time. While women carry most of the physical pain, your partners are also affected. Do not forget to appreciate them and hold them even closer during this hard time. They are grieving in their own way.
I held my Son extra tightly as I put him to bed, and I never wanted to let him go. I called my Mom for support and then called 811. I could hear how awful the person on the other line felt as she had to tell me to get to the ER as soon as possible. I was losing a lot of blood and needed to be seen, and bring the remains of our little one with me.
I was in denial. I didn’t want to disrupt Liam’s sleep schedule… I simply could not “be” anywhere at that moment. I would go to the hospital in the morning.
I got two hours of sleep that night, nightmares being a huge part of it.
I did not want to have my baby in a box. I did not want to hand my baby over to strangers.
The next morning, we got up, fed Liam, and told him that we were going for a car ride. Liam held my hand the entire time and just kept staring at me. His favourite song came on, which he usually dances to and instead he just stared at me. He knew. He knew I needed him.
We got to the hospital and I had to carry the box holding what could have been in my hands. Jesse kept Liam preoccupied all day for a Father/Son day while Mommy was at the hospital. A woman looked deeply concerned because I couldn’t hold back my tears, and she led the way to the ER. I sat in the waiting area, and an elderly woman saw me, held my hand, and gave me tissues. I don’t know her name, I don’t know her background, but I will never, ever forget her.
As I was waiting for triage, a nurse came over to me and made sure I had taken a number. She had the kindest manner about her I have ever seen.
I went to triage and told them the basics. “So you took a pregnancy test?” No. “So… you have heavy bleeding but aren’t pregnant? How would you know otherwise?”
That is when I burst into tears and pat the box. The nurse said she would be right back with a container. Once she got back, I started to open the box but felt completely overwhelmed and dizzy. The love I had for this little one was already so immense but I couldn’t handle seeing it again in that state. I burst into tears and said I was so sorry, but I couldn’t. She took the box from me, and after one glance, she said she would be back to get a bigger container. The baby was much larger than she had expected and the one she brought was not big enough.
At this time, I held the box, and cried.
I wanted to say goodbye. I didn’t have the right words. I kept saying “I’m sorry, I love you. I’m sorry. I am so sorry. I love you.” and then the nurse came back in with a specialist. She was introduced, they looked inside the box and kept saying “So, I don’t know… I don’t know.” The specialist looked at me with the eyes I had been wanting to see all day. The eyes of comfort, and understanding. She put her hand on my shoulder, and I burst out crying again. I saw her sadness, and I gained respect for the nurses and doctors who deal with seeing such pain on a daily basis.
They told me they would take the remains and that I did the right thing by bringing them there. I was sent back into the waiting room. This time, everyone who had been waiting with me beforehand saw that I didn’t have my box with me. One woman just kept staring. The elderly lady looked at me, and silently gave me another tissue. Again, I will never forget her, or her kindness.
After this, I was rushed into a room and I even skipped registration. It was at this point that the “kind nurse” came into my room. Her name is Samantha. She held my hand. She asked me about whether we wanted cremation or a burial, internal or external autopsy, and at this point my head was spinning. I never thought that I would be having to answer these questions.
I asked if an internal autopsy would help other Mothers and Babies…
She politely said that it was really just up to me whether or not I wanted to search for answers.
After everything this little one went through, I could not imagine it being looked into. I understand that things happen for a reason. This baby already went through me not being able to carry it properly- that was enough. I can’t stop picturing its heart stopping to beat inside of me and me not knowing it was happening. I will never forget this feeling.
As I cried, she looked me straight in the eye, shared her own personal experiences and said “I can’t believe you’re still standing.” She said she was proud of me for being there at all, and for taking these steps. She took 5 vials of my blood, and brought me juice. That juice was the only thing I had to eat or drink until I left the hospital 8 hours later. As I told her how thankful I was for her kindness, she left by saying “The world is awful enough. It’s moments like these when people need to come together and be compassionate.”
I have no words for how much I appreciate the kindness I received from all of these workers. On such a bad day, they really did what they could and I am so grateful.
After my blood was drawn, I went back to the waiting room and Samantha eventually brought me back to Room #10. There were two women there from social services. Since it was seen as a traumatic loss, they wanted to make sure I was given resources and a chance to talk. At this point, I had been at the hospital for about 5 hours and I was exhausted from crying and being there. Having to tell them the same thing I had told 4 other doctors and nurses made me even more exhausted and re-living it all made me cry even harder.
One of the social workers also shared her different, but relative experiences and looked at me with understanding eyes. However, there were many awkward pauses between me crying. I did not want to talk anymore, and I think I thanked them about 1000 times. I just wanted to go home and be with my Son and SO.
After this, I waited to hear about the ultrasound I needed to have.
To make sure everything had been naturally extracted from my body, we needed this ultrasound. The whole while I was texting my Mom, keeping my Sister updated, and answering texts from close friends. This made time pass more easily, but with all my body was going through, and not eating, I was getting more and more drained. I was exhausted. A woman finally called my name and told me to go register for my appointment which was at 1:15. I went upstairs and did so. I was then sitting in the exact same chair I had sat in waiting to get my ultrasound for Liam.
Newly pregnant women, and pregnant women with huge bumps surrounded me and I cried.
I couldn’t hide it and I didn’t care anymore. I thought about being there two years earlier, being so excited and happy to see Liam. I had never thought about people around me who were there for different reasons. I may have been looking overjoyed and a woman next to me could have been going through a horrible day and I had no idea. If I get pregnant again, I will be so careful to be mindful of others.
Even with my appointment, 2 PM came around and I hadn’t been seen.
Mentally, physically- I was just getting progressively tired and wanted it to be over. I knew this ultrasound would show me nothing on the screen and I just wanted to get past this and go home. My name was finally called, and an external ultrasound wasn’t good enough. They did an internal ultrasound, which caused more cramps and discomfort and I was then sent back to the ER.
I moved spots waiting in the ER a billion times, I kept texting my Mom and Jesse. Wishing to see everyone but being unable to move; not wanting my son to be subjected to the hospital… I was just completely finished. Eventually, I fell asleep while leaning on my coat and woke up 20 minutes later with the pattern of my coat imprinted on my face. As I was rubbing my cheek to make it go away, there was Jesse with Liam coming to visit me. I saw my Son smile at the sight of me and I felt comfort. I hugged him closely. They had brought me food and Jesse went to get me a drink too. I told him to leave all of his bags and jackets with me, since there was “No way that they’d call me after waiting this long”.
I opened my food, took two small bites, and of course, they called my name.
I went into the room and spoke to one of the women I had spoken to earlier on in the day. Our baby was about 8 weeks from what they observed, but my placenta was much larger. While I should have been about 3 months pregnant, it had stopped progressing at two. My hormone levels were very low so the baby had passed away much earlier. She said that my scans showed that everything had been passed at home, and I just needed a follow up in a few weeks.
At this time, she asked me how I was and I said I was completely exhausted. I had been losing blood all day but because I was alone, I had not gone to the washroom once. I couldn’t risk leaving and having my name called. I had been hungry, thirsty, and drained. I was so glad to be going home. I shook her hand and stupidly said “It has been a pleasure.” Of course the reason I was there was not a pleasure, but I had meant she was a pleasure to have dealt with her throughout the day. I think I will always feel silly for saying it that way, but I was on the verge of delirium at this point.
It was time to go home.
Since then, I have slept a lot thanks to my SO taking care of Liam. I also hug Liam closer each time I see him.
Each time I fall asleep, I have nightmares about me losing this baby. I wake up in pools of blood and each time I go to the washroom, it’s a reminder of what happened. Know I have to be strong(ish) and make life normal for Liam. Time will help me heal but it’s easier imagined than accomplished.
To my friends, family, and readers, who messaged me and have shared their stories or their words of comfort, thank you.
Without you, I would not be at this stage of healing so I want to make sure you know how much I appreciate what you have done.
If you are going through, or have been in this situation, heal however you need to. Don’t let other people get to you. It is a unique experience for everyone and if you feel a certain way that people don’t agree with, it is OKAY. You have the right to feel whatever it is you feel. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.
I am here for anyone who wants to talk or share their story; I will not judge. It’s a very personal experience but I am here for whatever support you feel may help.
Little one, I know I will relive 02.22.18 every day for the rest of my life. Do not feel like I have left you. You’ll always be my baby, and I am always going to be your Mommy. I will never forget you.
If you or someone you know is going through baby loss and need support, please look up services in your area. I sought counseling afterward, and while it was far from a “fix”, it helped ease the pain momentarily at times.
