This is Tiger's ultrasound. It was a magical moment when we got our first glimpse of our baby to be. I still remember that day vividly. EC, Monkey and I all gathered in the tiny little ultrasound room anxiously wondering what would see and if we would be lucky enough to find out gender etc. I remember Monkey's disappointment (okay outright denial) that it was going to be a boy, my fear at the idea of trying to raise a boy and all of that.
Fast forward to July 2011... we were back at the hospital anxiously awaiting again. This time Tiger was with us. I'd been prepping Monkey for the week she'd known about the pregnancy that it could be anything - a boy or a girl (she had been hoping for twins... just as long as it wasn't two more boys) my specific words to her were "you know it doesn't matter what it is as long as it's healthy."
The kids happily bounced down the hall to the little room, even more joyously crowded this time. I anxiously and excitedly held hubby's hand. Finally the technician began. I knew something didn't look quite right but I told myself that maybe it was just the prep pictures and I just didn't remember anything but the cute ones they sent home with us. Then the technician broke the news... there was no heart beat. The fog of denial began and I tried to convince myself that it was no big deal... so what if there's no heartbeat, maybe it was just too early for that, maybe it wasn't a good picture, maybe the machine was broken...maybe...
As I began to realize the full significance of the moment I clung desperately on to the few remaining lifeline strings of my sanity. They were this:
1. I knew that whatever I was going through was something that lots and lots of women have gone through... and worse. I've been so blessed by all those women that have shared their pain prior to my own experience... maybe not in the details of the events, that would probably be too much to handle, but just knowing how many wonderful women I knew that had been through what I was going through was a huge uplift beyond description. It's also interesting because the doctor's told me that about 20% of pregnancies end in miscarriage. That doesn't really sound like a lot but it's one out of every five pregnancies. I think most of the women I know have either miscarried, miscarried multiple times, had a still born baby, a baby that died in infancy, or have had difficulty conceiving. Considering that it's also not something most women feel comfortable sharing there's probably others that I know that I just don't know about.
2. My family. Instantly I realized that I couldn't change it and since I couldn't change it I shouldn't dwell on it. After all, I had a great husband and two wonderful children. I also still had my overall health to be with them. How ungrateful would I be if I allowed this one loss to consume my life.(like I felt could so easily happen if I even momentarily walked that path).
3. I'd already been through trials and loss that year and been forced to come to an understanding deep within myself that even when I didn't understand why something was happening that it was all part of the bigger plan. For whatever purpose or reason, Heavenly Father was still in control and as long as I allowed Him to stay that way, I would be able to sometime find peace and joy that would overcome all those other moments of pain and loss. In the middle of everything I came across a quote in the June 2011 Ensign Magazine from Elder Richard G. Scott that helped give me a bit of perspective- "Trust in the Lord... Just when all seems to be going right, challenges often come in multiple doses applied simultaneously. When those trials are not consequences of your disobedience, they are evidence that the Lord feels you are prepared to grow more. He therefore gives you experiences that stimulate growth, understanding and compassion, which polish you for your everlasting benefit. To get you from where you are to where He wants you to be requires a lot of stretching, and that generally entails discomfort and pain."
That isn't to say it was easy. The baby had stopped growing a few weeks before the ultrasound. It wasn't until a few weeks after that I finally miscarried. The whole time I felt like an anxious ticking time bomb and didn't understand why my body would do this to me - why I wasn't strong enough to carry the baby through the pregnancy and why it now couldn't even pull it together enough to recognize that something was wrong and get it all over with. I bounced around all over the grief cycle for a long time and those fears didn't all magically go away when we finally found out that would were expecting Bear - having suffered loss before made me that much more worried about what could happen. Even still looking at my family I thank Heavenly Father for each day I have with them because I know intimately just how precious it is.
Looking back I can see how much certain things that people did or didn't do really helped as well. Thankfully the few people we talked about it with were amazing. Most of them simply asked "How are you holding up?" and let me share whatever I was ready to share. One family brought over dinner. Another family invited the kids over for a few extra playdates. After I sent an e-mail blubbering about not being sure of how to handle Primary (I was the Primary President at the time), our wonderful Stake leaders made a special trip to take care of sharing time. One of our friends even let me borrow a copy of a book that had just come out and as soon as they had finished so I wouldn't have to wait for it to become available at the library.
It's funny but I was amazed at the impact of those little gestures. I didn't necessarily need to talk about it with everyone, or get the 3rd degree about what had happened. What I needed most was time to pull myself together and gentle reminders that I wasn't alone, that I had a lot of wonderful people who loved me and cared about me.
Unfortunately all women aren't so lucky. One of my friends miscarried a few years ago and someone who meant well ended up saying the wrong things and ended up making the experience much harder. I know she isn't alone. Often it seems people in their rush to say something consoling just don't think before they speak so in my experience and opinion here are some things that you might not want to say.
First, it is NEVER okay to start making guesses at why it happened. The only thing that does is bring pain. The mom at that point doesn't need to hear from anyone that that maybe if she had just done things differently then it wouldn't have happened. That's between her, her husband, and her doctors - no one else. (Please also remember a lot of the time it's simply a fluke of genetics and nothing could have changed anything.) As for "it's all part of the plan" response - that's something once again the family needs to come to peace with on their own - the only thing hearing it from another person does is make them resentful. "You can try again" just negates the hardship that the family has been through and places more weight on the ability/timing of trying again - to the point of making some women unhealthily obsessed with it instead of just allowing time to heal the wounds and take its course.
Those are just some of the experiences that stood out to me, I'm sure that other well meant words could be taken just as poorly. Still, everyone also has a different experience. As one friend said she had seen someone that bounced back the next day and another that pretty much couldn't leave her bedroom for over 6 months. And just in case you're wondering no, I don't think it's because some women are "stronger" than others, it is all just still a part of pregnancy - there all sorts of hormones and physical pain in addition to the emotional pain that goes on with all of it and there's also a lot to be said about personal circumstances and experience before it happens too.
I will go one step further about all of this- this is hard on the Dads too. My guess would be that pretty much the same rules apply to them as well- watch your words, remember they're likely to be pretty protective of their wives at this point and even though they're generally not as free to grieve openly over the loss, it's still a loss for them.
October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month and I had been debating if I should share my story since it's been a while and then my dear friend lost her little one only a few weeks into the pregnancy. I can't take away her pain or even claim to know what she is feeling right now. What I can do is offer up my support and encouragement and say you're not alone.
