On My Miscarriage :: Staying Positive (For the Most Part…)


It was the just like any other summer day.  I was about 10 weeks pregnant, taking my son Miles to the mall to meet a friend.  Then, I got the phone call from my Doctor stating that my numbers didn’t rise and I would need to come in for a sonogram. I kept it together, but obviously had to leave the mall—once I got to the car I broke down calling my husband.

About two years prior to that, we were just finding out we were pregnant with our first born.  We were what you call, “the lucky ones,” getting pregnant the first month we were “trying.” So to us, getting pregnant with our second would be easy too—right?? Well we were wrong!

So, we went in for our sonogram, and just as we imagined there was no heartbeat or “peanut shaped” baby to be seen, just tissue.  Our sweet baby that we became so excited about 2 months before, we were never going to hold.   I want to say I was in shock, I just didn’t understand how this could be, and of course what could I have done for this to happen?  Just when I thought the worst was over, I was told I would have to have a D&C (dilation and curettage procedure), where they would have to remove the tissue.  (Now, this is an elective procedure, but I was far enough along that if I let it happen naturally I could bleed out and have other medical issues). We left the office in shock, not knowing what to feel, but we knew we had each other to lean on—and also our adorable boy at home.

Oh and did I mention we had already told people we were pregnant? You would think that would be hard having to tell your close family

Even though miscarriage is fairly common, that doesn’t help it hurt any less.
photo courtesy of freedigitalphotos.net

and friends you lost your baby—but at the end of the day it was so nice to have that love and support from everyone. I am happy we shared our news early in the pregnancy, because it definitely takes a village to lift you up.  It also helps leaning on those who have had the same complication or loss.

On August 7th I went in for my procedure.   After the procedure, once again I didn’t know what to feel, but I did know I just wanted my husband and my glasses! I was in some waiting room with other patients for about 2 hours because there was no room available.  If you know me, I’m a pretty patient person, but I was DONE being patient.  I finally cried 

and maybe yelled a little at the nurse stating how I just went through that hardest procedure of my life and I wanted out of there! Little did I know, my husband was saying the same thing—and he finally was able to come up to the waiting room. The whole experience was just plain awful– there is no sugar coating it. 

When we got home, our parents brought Miles home, my sister brought me Thai food and I felt OKAY.  Throughout the day friends were bringing me flowers and treats—even those who I wasn’t close to, but wanted to help me with a little pick-me-up!  Like I said before, it was a weird feeling—still in shock I would say.  The next few days weren’t too bad mentally, physically there was just mostly cramping and not feeling 100%.  Oh, that’s probably because I had to be at work the next day for in-service for the beginning of school—no wonder I didn’t have time to think about what I just went through!

That weekend my husband and I went to the movies, I can’t remember the movie we saw—but what I do remember is seeing a pregnant woman.  That was the first time since my procedure that I saw someone pregnant.  We got in the car and I broke down saying, “That’s supposed to be me, why isn’t that me right now!”  That was the turning point for me, where I was pissed off, and it started to affect me and my husband.

As the weeks went on, the pain got harder.  I kept it mostly to myself—venting some to family and friends.   You couldn’t see the pain on my face, but it was there.  The pain was not only about losing what we once had, but if we could be able to conceive again.  Our doctor said it would be a few months, but of course I was hoping it would happen sooner.  I started to get aggravated when that wasn’t the case. Looking back I feel selfish for this, knowing I have friends who have longed for a child, or a sibling and unable to do in a short amount of time.  It’s hard when you don’t have control—Very Hard!

I want to say my husband saved my sanity—he was the only who saw me at my worse and stress about the “calculations” of becoming pregnant.  I came to terms (as much as I could), that I couldn’t control my body.  What I could control was putting all my focus on my family (especially our 2 year old son), work and, of course, myself! I don’t know if it was the less stress I was putting on myself, but not too long after that talk, and better outlook that we became pregnant with our little girl.

Me and Laila

I do think everything happens for a reason and I try to have a positive outlook on life.  Though I’ll never meet my unborn child, I like to believe that happened so we could have our darling little Laila, who is the perfect addition to our family. Does it stink we had to go through those months of stress? If it weren’t for that bump in the road, we would never have her.   I know we had it pretty easy, sadly I know families close to us who experience this struggle for months and years at a time.  I also know those who have experienced similar stories to mine and took it harder.  I know we all deal with experiences differently, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be a shoulder to cry on, and be there for each other. And with that, I’m here to say, I’m thinking about you, love you and I’m here to talk.


  1. Thank you for sharing your story! I really needed to read this! God bless you and your family. You bring the rest of us inspiration and hope.


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