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One in Four women will experience pregnancy loss within their lifetime. This is a statistic that nobody talks about, that most women are unaware of until they become the One. Raising awareness needs to start now, so that women everywhere can support each other through their grief. Being united in love makes you strong, but being united in grief will make all of us even stronger. My heart goes out to my fellow sisters who have also experienced or are experiencing this pain. I know it stays with you, for it is staying with me. May we come together and end the silence for ourselves and our angel babies.

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The First Time I Was Pregnant

I have been trying to get pregnant for over a year now, and I’m trying to feel grateful for the fact that in the last year I have been pregnant twice.

I was so excited to have a June baby. I was born in June, so maybe I’m biased. I also live in a country where we have all four seasons and to me, late spring seems to be the best time to have a baby. It was the end of September when we saw that first positive pregnancy test- it was faint, but it was there. Two long days later, we tested again, and there was no question of our eyes playing tricks on us-- it was there, I was pregnant.

I was so excited. I had my best friend since I was two-years-old moving home the next weekend and we had planned to surprise our very close group of girls with the news that she had moved home, for good. I was so excited to tell the girls about baby gemini coming in June 2019, and I knew, they would scream and yell and cry with excitement. These girls are my sisters, they are unlike any other relationship I have ever had. I had planned on telling them and only them. My husband was cautiously excited about me being pregnant, we both knew people that have had miscarriages and how awful that has been. I had myself convinced though; “it’s not going to happen to me. It didn’t happen to my sister or my mom, I will be fine”. And so I continued happily checking various versions of the bump app to see what kind of seed the baby was that day and what kind of foods to avoid. “Oh my goodness my baby fits on the end of a bobby pin! How cute!”

With all the information on the baby development apps also came a timeline. At 13 weeks is where most people announce their pregnancies. Perfect. 13 weeks= mid December, my husband’s birthday and a wonderful time of year to start sharing the news with all of our extended family over the holiday season. I planned to wear my favourite black turtleneck with a bow placed on my perfect baby bump for all the Christmas dinners. June is just the perfect time to have a baby! JUST SO PERFECT!

The next Friday night I had a lovely dinner out with my 4 year old niece, my parents and my husband. I was so proud of myself for not telling them during dinner. I starting having some cramping that night and a little bit of brown spotting. Not to worry through, because I wasn’t going to have a miscarriage. I am healthy. I eat kale. I don’t smoke. I am not a planner, even though this pregnancy was very much planned-- things just happen to work out for me. This will not happen to me. Just in case though, I scoured the internet for spotting and cramping in early pregnancy and had myself convinced that it was normal.

Saturday morning I woke up early from the pain. I went to the bathroom and found bright red blood. I started hyperventilating. I sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. I was broken. I woke up my husband to tell him and cried so hard that I was choking. I told one of my best friends that morning and she was on guard for me all day, we shifted plans so I wasn’t driving anymore and no one has suspected the surprise guest.

Two hours later, my husband drove me to pick up my friend whom I hadn’t seen in a year and all I wanted to do was cry and fall apart in her arms. I didn’t. I kept my sunglasses on, said hello to her family, gave her a quick hug and got back in the car. I have known her for 30 years.

Next, I proceeded with the now one and only grande reveal to, surprise the rest of the girls of the latest resident. The girls were so surprised and ecstatic. I wanted to cancel the whole day and spend it crying in bed. Instead, I went to a craft market, I bought all kinds of shit I did not need trying to make myself feel better. The girls had wine, I quietly declined and cried behind my sunglasses “I guess I could drink this now”.

My eyes were swollen, my throat was sore and my heart was broken.

The next day we had tickets for an NFL game with friends. The entire day I was so nauseous and felt so sick.

On Monday, I went to work and I haven’t worn that turtle neck since.

#miscarriage #earlyloss #everylossmatters #june2019 #ttc #heartbreak #ieatkale #perfect #fertility #miscarriagesupport

Being a paramedic, we often get called to woman experiencing a miscarriage and the first thing you notice is the fear in her eyes and pain on her face. But you don't exactly know how she feels. I think we all know what it feels like to have a loved one die but this is different. There is no physical human being that we, as the outsider can see. We can't associate any feelings with this unborn infant because to us it is invisible. Of course we feel sad for those women but what do you say? There is nothing you can say to take her pain, pain that we don't understand, away from her. Even in stillbirth we can understand the pain a little bit more than a miscarriage. With stillbirth, there is a physical baby there, for the world to see. I think seeing a perfect baby, born sleeping forever creeps into the depths of our hearts and would make the toughest person break down. The baby is there, there is proof of its existence, there is a funeral to attend and a grave site to visit. Somebody died, a baby died. But with miscarriage, nobody physically died. Not for anyone else to see. There was no "somebody". In most cases there is no physical evidence that there was a baby at all. So when a woman experiences a miscarriage, it is all silent and secret, just like the miracle that was meant to be growing inside of her. When I had my miscarriage I was six weeks pregnant. We had been trying for six months and over that six months the love for my unmade baby was already starting to grow. When I saw those two little pink lines my heart exploded with six months worth of love. Despite us knowing for only two weeks, it felt like a lifetime of love and hope and excitement had built up and was nestled in my heart. When I had my miscarriage I was only six weeks. We had not even had an ultrasound performed. We never even got to see our baby's heart beating. At six weeks, the embryo is the size of a pea. It looks like a tadpole with a big head. It's ugly and alien. But its tiny heart starts beating. What a miracle. But to an expectant mother, that little alien is a baby. A baby. A chubby cheeked, fat fisted, dribbling baby, a child, a daughter or a son. At six weeks, a miscarriage is described as an "early pregnancy loss". A lot of doctors dismiss it and speak harshly about bleeding and D&Cs and when you can try again. There is no recognition for your hopes and dreams which now lay, crushed on the bottom of that hospital floor. I was devastated. My precious baby. My child had died. Gone. Forever. And there was nothing I could do but watch as my baby was literally ripped from inside me in a painful and bloody way. There was nothing anyone could do. No baby, not anymore. When I started to share my grief and the devastating news with the few family and friends I had told about the pregnancy, the responses were mixed. Some said "how sad, how awful. I am so sorry" and that was nice. And some said "at least you knew you could get pregnant" or "it was for the best, obviously something was wrong, and the baby would probably have had down syndrome" or "it wasn't as if you lost an actual baby". That hurt the most. No, I didn't physically lose a fully formed baby. But in my heart and mind my embryo was a baby. It was a person, a somebody to me. Even if it wasn't a somebody to others. As the weeks went by I found that I craved recognition for my baby. While others guard the loss in the depths of their souls, I wanted to tell the world that "I had a baby, and it died".

Early Pregnancy Loss

#pregnancyloss #missedmiscarriage #miscarriage #earlyloss #early miscarriage