Our First Storm
It’s always hard to talk about loss but I think it’s necessary. It helps us grow as individuals and build a community around us. Plus, you never know who your story may touch.
In remembrance of miscarriage and loss this month, I wanted to open up for the first time publicly about something we’ve been dealing with as a family.
My husband and I married in June 2010, shortly after (two and a half months to be exact) we found out we were expecting our first child. Completely scared, nervous, shocked, excited, overwhelmed and eager to be new parents, we started planning.
Well, I immediately went into plan mode and first figured out finances. Then, we toured different OBGYNs and Birthing Centers. Being the lover of research, studies, and medical journals I am, I took off running and opened my mind to all the things I needed to know about pregnancy, birth, and becoming a first time mom.
I was already so in love with this baby and couldn’t wait to hold and meet it for the first time.
Well, that beautiful and precious moment never came.
First the cramps happened and then, almost immediately, the bleeding. My heart sank as I already knew what was happening before getting confirmation. I declined medical help during this process and opted to feel everything. I didn’t even cry at that point. I was just numb. I felt like everything had slowed down and there I was sitting in the bathroom.
It was a hard couple of weeks. I was an emotional mess. I think I cried all the tears my body could possibly produce.
Once the bleeding stopped, I thought I’d feel better. The doctor assured me when we could try again. She told me I was young and should have no problem conceiving again.
Several months passed and every negative test result pushed me further into depression. I was a shell of my former self for about 10 months. My poor, new husband had no idea what to say or do to comfort me.
Heck, I didn’t even know what to do.
He would just hold me and tell me how amazing and beautiful I am and that it’ll happen. He had so much optimism and tried to bring me comfort.
The only thought that kept crossing my mind and adding to the mental toll of beating myself up was “I’m a woman. Isn’t this what women are supposed to do?”
I felt like I was an imposter on my own gender and that I didn’t even deserve the title of woman. Because, what kind of woman can’t even bare a child.
The mental pitying finally and eventually subsided.
then came the rainbow after the storm.
At the time I didn’t realize “rainbow children” was a thing. Hell, I couldn’t even admit the miscarriage to my own mother. No one knew but my sister and my husband.
I was honestly embarrassed.
At exactly a year since our miscarriage and we hadn’t be able to conceive again, the doctor had us come in for a “pre-conception consultation” to discuss our options.
It was all very routine. I was sitting on the table thing in the doctor’s office waiting for her to come in but a nurse came in first.
She started talking to us about prenatal vitamins and how I’m feeling. I told her, “I’m sorry, I think you’re in the wrong room. We’re here for the pre-conception consultation.”
Embarrassed and slightly confused, she looked down at her chart and looked up at me and said, “But you’re pregnant.”
All I could say was, “WHAT!?”
She showed me the results and my husband and I just hugged and cried. I don’t even quite remember what happened next but I’m pretty sure she just left the room.
All of these emotions came flooding back and I went through all of them in about 30 seconds. My poor husband…
There I was pregnant exactly a year after losing our first. Soren, my son, became my rainbow child.
The amazing birth of my rainbow child.
Well, Soren was born at the perfect time and in the perfect way. He was definitely stubborn and made me wait till almost a week after his due date.
Three days in labor later, I was in the tub and ready to push. I just went through the signals my body was telling me.
My eyes were closed and I was just feeling him making his way into the world. When the midwife looked up and said, “Okay, Becky, one more strong push and reach down and catch your baby.”
Those words were the only thing I really remember about the laboring process. I have no idea how long I was in the tub, how long I was pushing, or how many people were watching me.
She said to catch my baby. The moment I felt the urge to push again, I made it count and reached down while I did it to catch the baby I went through so much to have.
Soren was born on Mother’s Day at 9lbs 3oz and 22 inches long.
I pulled him to my chest and broke out in tears. All I could say to him was “Thank you” and “I love you!”
He was the perfect Mother’s Day present for a new mommy.
(Don’t mind the cone-head, I was in labor for over 36 hours.)
Then onto the next adventure.
About 3 years later, our sweet and precious daughter was born. Equally as stubborn and wouldn’t come until after I was 8 days late.
She was 9lbs 3oz and 21 inches long. And she was born on her daddy’s birthday. He got to catch.
Now, we’re about to welcome our third baby into the world. But it’s always with me the loss we once had to endure to become a family.
Looking back, I honestly have no idea how my husband and I came through it. It was a lot of growing up in the first year of marriage for both of us.
I’m not sure about you, but I believe everything happens for a reason. I tried to look at the silverlining, the positive. Obviously not right away, people require a necessary time to grieve.
That grief was absolutely necessary for me and heartbreaking. But I think it made us stronger.
I’m absolutely in love with my family and I feel so blessed to have two healthy children.