The pain of child loss

Many women, dream to have a child. While miscarriage/loss of a child is very common (over 3 MILLION cases per year) it is very hard and emotional to talk about. Whether you were 6 weeks or 6 months, the physical and pshycological pain is VERY real.

There are many different experiences of child loss or miscarriage, today I am here to tell you about my personal experience. As painful as it may be, most women lose a child and can hardly talk about it. I WAS one of those women, and today I decided that it is best for me to speak upon the events that happened and how it affected me in hopes to help some of the other mothers out there that have been through miscarriage. Though you may be struggling, feeling alone, feeling like you somehow failed, feeling like its your fault, you are NOT alone.

In August of 2017, I found out I was pregnant with my first child. To say the very least, I was excited. Happy to be bringing a new life into this world. From the moment I got that positive pregnancy test, I imagined my future with my child. It took me 5 positive home tests to realize “wow Im really carrying a child’’. I hurried to make my at the time boyfriend, a cute poem explaining that we had a child that was due in the Spring. My bestfriend helped me and recorded the reveal, the three of us; my at the time boyfriend, my bestfriend, and myself, were all ecstatic about the news and overjoyed to share this magical moment. A few days later, my at the time boyfriend, Steven, and myself went to the doctor to confirm the news. It was true, I was pregnant!

About a week or so later, my bestfriend and I were having a sleepover and I started bleeding. I wasnt having any pain so we thought there was no cause for alarm but went to the hospital anyways. The doctors were not worried due to my cervix still being closed and explained to me that bleeding in early pregnancy is often but, If I started to feel cramping and see heavier bleeding, to come back. We left, everything was fine. Within 12 hours, that had all changed. I was bleeding heavier and was experiencing terrible cramps so my mother took me back to the hospital. They did all sorts of tests and a cervical check and told me that I indeed, was miscarrying. It felt unreal. I was hurt. About an hour after staying in the hospital, I had a complete miscarriage and was released from the hosital. I went home, laid in bed, and cried. I cried day and night, I didnt leave my room except to use the restroom, I didnt go to school, I didnt talk to friends, family, or Steven. For a week, I couldnt process that I had actually lost my first child, I wondered why? What did I do to deserve this pain? What could I have done differently? Why did my body fail me? Why wasnt the pregnancy successful? Was it my fault? For months, I greived the loss of the little human that I never got to meet. This caused me to be paranoid about any future pregnancies.

Around February of 2018, I found out I was pregnant again. This time, instead of being excited, I was full of doubts, anxiety. I was terrified. Despite what I expected, everything was going great, doctors appointments went well, sonograms looked perfect, my pregnancy was at the time, going very well. I remember thinking “this time, it WILL work out”. At 16 weeks, I found out that I was having a baby boy. I started looking for clothes, decided on a name, made a baby registry, shared the news with friends and family and celebrated the fact that I was having a successful pregnancy. Or so it seemed.

About a month later I went to hang out with my two friends. I was almost 22 weeks along. It was a rainy day, we went to a secret place where we always hung out. On the way out, I slipped and fell but did not hurt myself nor my child. I felt slightly strange that whole night at our sleepover and was uncomfortable but despite that, we still had a good time. Doing makeup, watching scary movies, baking, and cooking. I went home the next day and while using the bathroom, noticed I was leaking fluid from my vagina. A few times later, I passed a mucusy looking substance that had a slight pink tint. I would later find out that I had passed my mucus plug. Upon my boyfriends mothers objections, I made a trip to the hospital. Upon arrival, I was taken up to the labor and delivery floor and was given a cervical exam. During the exam, they also checked my sons heartbeat, which was normal. During the cervical check, it was discovered that my cervix was 2.5cm dilated so I was admitted to the hospital. For 2 or 3 days, I was on a modified liquid diet and was pumped full of pain medication to ease the cramps that had since started. The third night, I woke up multiple times throughout the night, the cramps getting increasingly worse. During this time span, I was told that I would most likely be giving birth and that the hospital, unfortunately did not have tubes small enough for my baby. Around 7:30am June 5th, 2018; the pain had became unbearable and it was time for another cervical check. During the check, I was informed that I was fully dilated and they had to break my water. They did so, and at 8:38am, I gave birth to my precious baby boy who was only 21.5 weeks gestational age. He was perfect depsite the early birth and stayed alive for approximately 3 hours. Time of death, 11:30am June 5th, 2018. This damaged me more than the previous miscarriage. The cause this time? Cervical incompetence. My cervix thinned and dilated too early and caused me to give birth prematurely. Again, I blamed myself. I blamed my body. I asked God, “why would you give me false hope? Why would you give me something so pure, so perfect, just to take it from me?” I wondered why I deserved this. I hated myself. This experience caused me so much pshycological pain that I attempted suicide multiple times. Pills, cutting myself, anything. All I knew was that I wanted to be where ever my son was.

Months later, I felt myself distancing from a very toxic, rocky relationship with my at the time boyfriend. In July, I left him. I thought for good but, it only got more toxic and he pulled me right back in. I knew, that after the loss of our child, our relationship would never be the same. For months, I couldnt grasp my loss. I couldnt understand it and to this day, I still dont. I took it out on people around me. Distancing from everything and everybody. A yeat later, I left for good.

It started to get easier coping with the loss of my son and I found myself interested in a new man. We instantly clicked. I told him about my past, I told him about my son, I became an open book to him. It was after we got together that he then, decided that even though my son wasnt with us, he would love and claim him as his own. This only made me fall deeper in love with him. We talked about our future, we talked about having children, we planned our whole lives together. A few months after our 1 year anniversary of being together, we found out I was pregnant! This time, everything felt good. It felt right. I was with a man who loves me, who does any and everything for me, a man who loves my deceased son as his own although he never met him. To say the least, we were ecstatic. Something we talked about for the past year, was finally coming true. At the doctors, the sonograms looked perfect although I was very early in pregnancy. We had high hopes.

A few weeks later, I started to bleed. Just like I had in my first pregnancy. I went to the hospital and had sonograms done, blood taken, the whole 9 yards. Later during that visit, I was told that my baby was measuring at 8 weeks, 2 days. The unfortunate news also came. They didnt find the heartbeat. They called it an incomplete miscarriage and told me that I would pass the “tissue” of my unborn child naturally at home. It felt as if my heart had been ripped out and stomped on and beaten to a pulp. I was released from the hospital and went home. The whole ride home, I was in a sort of daze, unable to comprehend the news that I had another failed pregnancy. Over the next 2 days, I bled and bled until finally it happened, I was in excruciating pain sitting on the toilet with my boyfriend holding my hand as I passed the tissue that once had a beating heart full of life. We sat together in silence while he comforted me and I silently sobbed into his chest. Unlike my last relationship, we felt as if we were brought closer together by this tragic event.

Now, 2 months later we both have not came to terms that we lost our child that we made with love and passion. Although we have yet to deal with the heartbreak, we have high hopes that next time, will be THE time. The time it all goes perfectly. The time we get our beautiful child. He has been my strong rock in the middle of a terrible storm, hes helped me even on my darkest days and it helps that Ive got someone who didnt give up on me despite the hardship. We still talk about our future, we still talk about having children. We have hope. We hope that there is indeed light at the end of this dark tunnel that has so many unexpected twists and turns.

I would be lying if I said that I wasnt jealous of the mothers that had successful pregnancies. I would be lying if I said I wasnt jealous of the mamas who have gotten their rainbow babies. I too, pray that someday I get my rainbow baby. I congratulate all of the mothers and mothers to be as well as the mothers of angel babies. For now, Ill just be the best mother I can be to my fur babies. Until the time is right.

I hope youre all staying safe and healthy during the pandemic. Thank you for reading!