My baby #2

Hey there, and welcome back.

This post is going to be about miscarriage and infertility. So if that isn’t something you want to read about, please scroll on. This is something I feel I need to speak about, for me. Possibly for other women who don’t talk about it, and feel alone.

For those of you that have followed along for a while, you know that I struggle with infertility.

“But you’re a mom now?!”

Yes, I am a mom now. I have a wonderful little girl who calls me Momma, and we are so incredibly blessed to have her. And I still struggle with infertility.

When I was pregnant with my daughter, that was the first time I had a positive pregnancy test. A firm hard line that screamed, “You’re pregnant.”

There are two times that I think or assume I might have experienced a miscarriage in my life. But there wasn’t a hard line positive pregnancy test, or a doctor to confirm.

The first time, I was standing in the hallway, talking to my husband, who was sitting at his gaming desk. Out of nowhere, I was hit with this incredible pain, and seconds later, I was bleeding. I remember thinking, “Oh no, no no no no.” Over and over again in my head. I went to the toilet and sat down, and a while later, I stood and saw a tiny grey/pink mass that looked sort of like a bean, with thick red clots around it.

I’ll never know for sure if that tiny mass was a baby I just lost. But I stood there thinking back and realized that I had missed my period, a few weeks back. Life was so hectic at the time that I hadn’t even noticed. Was it possible I had a miscarriage? Yes. Do I know that for sure? No.

The other time was very similar. I got a faint faint positive pregnancy test. So faint that I was convinced it was a mistake. So I didn’t take another, I went on vacation with my husband’s family, and decided when I got back home I would take another. I did what we all do, I googled it. And it all said the same thing. Wait a week and test again. So I was sitting on the beach, and I got major cramps, and just like before I was instantly bleeding.

I remember sitting in the bathroom stall of a muggy Florida beach bathroom just crying. And then telling my sister that I thought I might have been pregnant and getting my period sucked.

So when both of those times happened, there was the hope of pregnancy but no reality that told me I was pregnant. It wasn’t until later on in life that I was talking to friends with similar experiences, and it started to form the idea that maybe, possibly, those were miscarriages.

What I have just gone through makes me second guess those experiences. What followed after those felt like a normal period. What I’m going through now has been one of the most traumatic and horrible experiences of my life.

I’m not even fully sure why I am sharing this.

It’s so personal and heavy. But I do my best to be authentic in this space, and try to connect with others. My hope is that if we normalize talking about these hard topics, then maybe we wont feel so alone. Maybe we can support each other. Especially other women who might be experiencing this alone and need support. Who maybe want to feel the connection that I do. And as a writer there is something therapeutic about writing this down. To validate that it really happened.

About two weeks ago, I got a positive pregnancy test.

I took one of those strip tests that come in the big early response package. You’re supposed to wait five whole minutes, but I didn’t.

I did my thing, set it down, and waited about a minute. I didn’t see a pink line, and I shrugged it off.

We had been trying for a baby. Not as aggressively as before our daughter. But more of, if it happens, it happens. There were however some recent conversations of, “let’s start trying for real.” And “I want another baby.”

Both of which, came from my husband. Seeing the excitement in his eyes about wanting another baby, it made me feel more ready, more confident.

So what would you know, we got busy and when I checked my app later to log our activities, I noticed we managed it on my ovulation day. Like THE ovulation day. The one with the bright blue color and circle around the date on the app. A tiny bit of shock and excitement happened. Was our timing that great? Even if it wasn’t, we were quite energetic in our efforts and managed a few times during that special week of the month.

So after staring at that little strip test, I tossed it into the trash bin, and stepped away. Besides, we had been here before many times. Our daughter is almost two. There had been plenty of times over the last year that we had tried and nothing happened.

Then later that day I was cleaning up after my daughter. She was playing outside in the mud and needed a bath. I went to dump the trash and that test sitting on top caught my eye. There were two lines.

I picked it up and stared at it wide eyed, I couldn’t believe it. I calmed myself realizing that it could be a hoax since it had been sitting in the trash all morning.

So I did what any sane person would do and I took another test. This time I used one of the more expensive “early dedection” tests instead of a strip.

And there it was.

The second line, slowly but surely peeking through until it was obvious that I was pregnant. I couldn’t believe it. I immediately started praying and thanking God. Thanking him for this miracle, this blessing, and praying asking God to protect this baby.

I was so excited and I remember holding my daughter, crying tears of joy, and whispering to her “You’re going to be a big sister.”

She didn’t know what that meant of course. She’s barely 20 months (almost two)

I took the opportunity to surprise my husband. There was this baby carrier that he really wanted when we had our daughter. But we never ended up buying it. And life was crazy with a newborn. He’s mentioned it a couple times in talks over the last year or so.

So I ordered it overnight on Amazon, along with prenatals, and more pregnancy tests. It wouldn’t get here until the next night when he was at work. He works a late shift. So it would have to wait until he got home.

This is what he was supposed to come home to, but while texting he asked me “Taylor, are we pregnant, don’t lie.”

At that point, I couldnt keep up the ruse, or wait until he got home. The surprise was clearly found out, and so I sent him this picture while he was at work. He called me and we shared in the happiness of the moment. I remember wishing I could see his face. It was unbelievable, and incredibly exciting.

Then the natural planning starts happening. The hopes and dreams for this new baby.

I distinctly remember having this feeling that I didn’t want to have fear surrounding this pregnancy. When I found out I was pregnant with my daughter, I was so scared of having a miscarriage. I was super careful to not tell anyone. We kept the circle really small. We did what you’re told to do, to wait until you pass the first trimester, then tell others.

This time, I was so excited and I didn’t want to live in fear. I found out at 4 weeks with my daughter. And I found out at a little over 4 weeks with this pregnancy. My first pregnancy was healthy and there were no complications. I assumed that this would be no different. This was the second time in my life that I’d ever gotten a positive pregnancy test. I was convinced that everything would be fine this time too.

So I told my best friends, I told my mom, and we made plans to tell the rest of our close friends and family at my husband’s upcoming birthday party in about four weeks.

I even ordered a “big sister” shirt for our daughter to wear as part of the reveal.

I was a bit nervous about everything being okay, as I assume most people are. But I focused on being grateful. I prayed everyday to God for a healthy pregnancy and for his protection. I pushed negative thoughts aside and focused on the good. This was a huge blessing and such good news.

We keep a lot to ourselves and life lately has not been easy. We keep being hit with one thing after another. Life has been really hard recently.

This felt like a good sign. It felt like the deep exhale that you take when the dust settles, and you feel like things are going to start tipping in a positive direction, finally.

I called my doctor and scheduled a blood test to confirm, and they confirmed I was pregnant.

Everything seemed to be falling into place. They asked me to come back to have my blood checked again, since my levels were low, but it was early so I was still within a good range. They wanted to make sure the HCG was increasing properly.

I went in on Friday, to have my blood checked, and then went home. They wouldn’t call me until Monday with the results and I wasn’t worried anyways.

We went out of town Sunday to see my grandparents and my inlaws. At this point I had known that I was pregnant for a solid week. I was 5 weeks and 4 days pregnant.

On the way I started getting some cramps in my lower back. I felt hot all over, but we were travel in southeast Texas weather. I remembered having some early cramping with my first pregnancy and chalked it up to my uterus getting ready for the new baby to grow.

The drive to my grandparents house is about 2.5 hours. The cramping started to get worse, and on our pit stop I went to the bathroom and checked to make sure everything was okay.

No bleeding, so I reassured myself things were fine and stayed positive.

When we got to their house, I went to the bathroom while my husband changed our daughter.

That’s when I realized what had happened. The cramping had grown extremely painful the last 30 minutes of the drive, and I was heavily bleeding. I had bled through my underwear and onto my jeans. I called out for my husband and he came in.

I knew he understood what was happening immediately. He went out and got my purse and I just sobbed.

We hadn’t told my grandparents that we were pregnant. I was going to tell them that day, in person.

I didn’t tell them what was happening. I just focused on visiting with them, and set aside my pain.

It’s hard to explain the way I compartmentalized everything.

Maybe it was the way I grew up, or the way I’ve handled different trauma in my life. I just tucked everything away into this box for later. After we left, I cried the whole way back into town, and we checked into our hotel room.

My husband was really intuitive and asked me what I wanted to do, if we were ready to go see his family yet. I shook my head no and I just started crying. He climbed into the bed with me and just held me as I sobbed on his chest. It was this weird mix of feeling like there was no hope, but not knowing for sure, and feeling this deep emotional ache. The way my body was responding emotionally, was like I was already grieving.

My husband was great, comforting me and trying to be positive. He would say that we didn’t know for sure. It could be normal, and the baby could be fine. It’s nice of him, and I probably would do the same in his shoes. I’m really grateful to him for being steady and strong, especially as he was experiencing this too.

In my body, I felt that it was done. I was in so much pain, I felt nauseous, the cramps very similar to when I was in labor, and the bleeding was too heavy for our baby to be fine.

So we spent time with my husband’s family, and we kept it to ourselves. I took pain medication to help manage it but I was in a lot of pain. I ignored it and pushed it away. My husband helped the best he could. There were several moments that I found myself alone and I’d just cry, clean myself up, and go back to socializing and pushing it all down.

We were already out of town and wanted to focus on supporting our family and the purpose for visiting. We didn’t want to make that weekend about us or this loss.

When we got back into town Tuesday we saw my doctor. We did an ultrasound and discussed everything.

The ultrasound was difficult. I was really early along, so the ultrasound was done vaginally. The ultrasound tech was nice, but I wish she verbalized in the beginning that she knew why I was there.

The receptionist were kind. They didn’t make me say it out loud. They checked me in, were kind, and I sat down. Sitting in the lobby was not easy. It’s so amazing to see pregnant women and know they’re growing a miracle from God.

But faced with this loss, it was incredibly painful to sit there watching woman after woman come in and to think, “Why is she being blessed and my baby died?”

I reminded myself all the things mentally. I don’t know what they’re going through, or their struggles. It’s not my place to understand or question things. There is no good reason. All the rational thoughts entering my mind while I’m simultaneously feeling not good enough. It was very similar to the feeling before I was pregnant with my daughter. And I would see pregnancy announcements every holiday and how some people I knew were on their second or third child and we still were waiting for our turn. I would feel incredibly happy for them, but also reminded of my own lack.

It’s entirely and completely possible to support, encourage, and feel genuine happiness for others in the happy times of their life. And yet also feel a deep sadness because it’s not happening for you. This is a complexity of the human experience. It’s not simple or black and white. It’s grey.

It’s this warm and cold thing. It’s joy and sadness wrapped into one. It’s hard to explain and put to words. Those of you that know, know exactly what I’m talking about. And my heart is with you all the way. If you don’t, I hope that you never do.

So I step into the ultrasound room with the nice ultrasound tech. She says “How far along are you?”

I look at my husband and then back at her and asked very quietly and filled with awkwardness, “I would’ve been almost six weeks. Did they tell you why I’m here?”

She said. “Yep. Did you already have an ultrasound at an ER?”

The way it was said, came across as she knew why I was there. And was trying to explain to me that if I hadn’t had an ultrasound at an ER then this was necessary. I wasn’t trying to get out of it at all. I knew it had to be done, and a small part of me deep inside was hoping that there was a sign that my baby was somehow, miraculously, okay.

So I just told her “No. I didn’t. I’m here to check on everything because I started cramping and bleeding heavily two days ago. I’m still bleeding.”

So then she asked me to undress from the waist down and when she comes back into the room she explains what the probe is, and how it works.

It’s of course uncomfortable and I’m still cramping so my body is in pain.

Whenever I saw my uterus pop up on the screen, I looked around, and when I saw the entire picture that it was empty I started crying. I couldn’t help it. I dont think it fully settled into my mind that I had a miscarriage until I saw that my body was empty. There wasn’t anything that looked like a baby.

When I was pregnant with my daughter it was clear. She looked so much like a tiny little person.

The ultrasound went on for several minutes and when it was over I just sobbed again. She left the room and didn’t say anything other than “We have baby wipes on the table for you to use.”

Afterwards, while waiting on the doctor, we sat in the hall and I tried to contain my tears but it was difficult. I was surrounded by pregnant women, happy and looking at their fresh ultrasound photos of their babies. Taking pictures and sending it to family, talking on the phone about it. It was overwhelming.

My doctor was very kind. She was the same doctor I saw with my daughters pregnancy. One thing she said that stood out to me was this:

“You were definitely pregnant.”

It was the first time I really hard my pregnancy acknowledged out loud during this miscarriage process. It was this weird sort of validation that I didn’t know I needed to hear.

Everyone seemed to be tiptoeing around the situation, or not fully acknowledging what was happening. My husband being hopeful, the receptionist having that look on her face, the ultrasound tech being cold, us pretending it wasn’t really happening and just being around family like it was just another day.

I know I was barely six weeks pregnant, and it was early, but it fucking sucks.

The next week that followed was absolute hell on my body. I wanted so badly to focus on the emotional healing, and take time. Instead my body was going through it.

The cramping and bleeding went on for a solid week. I have a high pain tolerance. I was in labor with my daughter for 28 hours straight before asking for an epidural for the last 4 hours. This pain was very close to what I experienced in labor, and the bleeding was heavy with lots of large clots. Then came the bloating, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, extreme migraine that lasted 3 days, and exhaustion. I didn’t start to feel like my “normal” self until day eight.

I finally threw away my pregnancy tests. It felt like it was time. It felt easy until I stepped away from the trashcan and started bawling. My daughters “big sister” shirt came in and I couldn’t even open the package. I messaged the seller on Esty and they graciously let me send it back. I didn’t even want the refund, I just didn’t want it to sit around my house. What could I do with it besides be reminded?

I’m dreading the day my due date comes. I’m dreading going in for another checkup to make sure my body is “back to normal.”

However, I have some good supportive people in my life and they’re helping us through this.

One thing I want to pass onto others is that if you don’t know what to say, say nothing. Or just say that you don’t understand and you’re sorry. Or that you’re there for them.

Please don’t tell people it’s for the best, that it wasn’t meant to be, that they can just try again, and now they know they can get pregnant. Just don’t, please. As good intended as that might be, it’s hurtful.

The baby was wanted, already loved, already had dreams surrounding it. Names were already being discussed, and plans being made. They don’t need be told that it’s for the best.

We don’t know or understand God’s plan for our life. We might not understand or fully grasp why, and that’s okay. It’s not for us to find a solution or answer to. We just grieve, cope, pray, and support each other. It’s okay to sit in that space of discomfort and grief for another person. To know that just offering to be there and giving support is all you have to do.

I’m not sure I will ever understand why this happened, and I can’t even begin to think about trying again. This is something that hurts, and I feel deserves the respect of giving it the time it needs before pushing forward.

I may have lost my baby #2, never to know if it would’ve been a boy or a girl, or had the chance to see it on an ultrasound, or hear it’s heartbeat. But the baby was mine, and it was loved so much.

This was a hard one, but necessary.

Thanks for reading. I really hope you can’t relate, but if you can, you’re not alone. ❤️

,Taylor