1 in 3

I am 1 in 3. 1 out of every 3 pregnancies ends in miscarriage. We lost a pregnancy in between the birth of Owen and Hunter. My pregnancy with Owen was so perfect and easy. He was healthy. I was healthy. I never had morning sickness or swelling. I was very fortunate! He was born in October and after we got over the newborn-shock/haze phase we decided we could not wait to give him a little brother or sister! We started trying as soon as my OB told us we could and left it up to God to bless us with another baby when he knew the time was right.

It was weird but I knew I was pregnant! I took the first test and saw a faint blue line. I waited and took a digital the next morning and sure enough, PREGNANT! We were overjoyed! We told our family and close friends (because we suck at secrets and patience and not sharing practically every bit of our lives with them!) and made our 8 week doctor appointment. At our 8 week appointment, she found the sac but no heartbeat. She was so re-assuring that it was a very real possibility that our timing was off and we were too early to see a developed heartbeat on the ultrasound. I love my OBGYN. She is a wonderful doctor and a wonderful person! She sent us down the hall for lab work and said we should come back in a week and we would know something more definitive at that point.

The next day on my way home from work, one of the nurses called me to tell me they did not like the numbers from my lab work. Everything seemed low. She called in a progesterone supplement prescription for me. She had the unpleasant job of explaining to me that if the pregnancy was viable, this would help it “stick” but that if it was not a viable pregnancy this would not save it. I remember rushing to pick up Cory and make it to the compounding pharmacy before they closed. Everything was such a blur. It felt like living in a dream.

After a week of supplements and agonizing waiting, we went back to the doctor only to have her tell us that we had miscarried, around the 8-9 week mark. Our baby never developed a heartbeat. Heartbreaking and devastated would be a severe understatement. I held it together all the way to the parking lot.

With the blessing of my doctor, I decided to miscarry naturally. It didn’t happen until about 3 weeks after we received our heartbreaking news. The physical and emotional pain was almost unbearable. It’s a pain that still re-surfaces all the time. It’s a pain that no one really talks about. I took one day off from work. One. Day. One day to deal with the gravity of our heartbreak and then it was back to business as usual. But it wasn’t really business as usual- not on the inside. What got me through it all though were Cory and Owen and the promise that God had a plan for our lives- for our little baby’s life.

A month later (just one!) we ended up pregnant again! It was exciting and terrifying. With our first two pregnancies the only outcome I could imagine was joy! But with this pregnancy I knew that the possibility of it ending in despair existed too. So I spent a lot of the pregnancy anxious and worried but also thankful! And our rainbow baby, Hunter Hart, was born on July 25, 2014.

It’s weird for me to write about. It’s sad and it hurts but it’s real and it’s a part of me and my family. I still don’t know what to do or say to someone who is facing the possibility of a miscarriage. There aren’t a lot of words that bring peace when you’re in the depth of those feelings. I tend to turn inwards. I hate anyone seeing me vulnerable but I’ve realized that letting go of what anyone else thinks and just feeling it is the only way to begin healing. There are times when I can think of it and not cry and there are times when it brings the tears from the depth of my soul. And both of those are okay.

The birth of instant anxiety…

I’ve always been a little bit of a worrier. I realized I wasn’t invincible before most kids my age, but it was after the birth of Owen that things really started to kick into high gear.

A new mom has a million things to worry over and stress about. I remember with Owen it was the constant worry of him getting enough milk. It was so important for me to breast feed but I never fully trusted my own body to provide for him. I remember so many of my new mom worries:

Is he getting enough to eat?

Is it dangerous to co-sleep?

Crib bumpers or not? (Who knew I wouldn’t need to worry about this because both of my babies hated the crib!)

Will he know I still love him when I return to work? (This one was/IS my biggest!)

I never realized how quickly the onset of a million different worries would fill my head. My pregnancy had been so easy and exciting that I never thought that his arrival or caring for a newborn would be anything other than dreamy. I wasn’t naïve- it was just something that I wanted for so long that I imagined every thought would be happiness and joy (even if exhausted), not necessarily doubts and fears.

Then I kind of hit my groove as a mom. It took a while but I felt confident in my decisions and cared less about what books or random people on Babycenter forums said.

Then when Hunter was born I was like “I’ve got this!” And I did! He nursed like a champ (and we’re still going!), we co-slept (in a very safe way) from day one so we never felt like sleep deprived zombies, and I was still able to care for Owen, who was 22 months. I do remember crying when he came home from the hospital though. We pushed to leave a day early so we could get home to Owen and as soon as we got there with a new baby and all our friends and family left, I felt overwhelmed. But it passed and we decided it would just take a little time figuring out our new normal.

Now Owen is almost 4 and Hunter will be 2 in two weeks (WHAAATT!) but a whole new set of fears have taken hold. When they were babies it was mainly “Oh my gosh- how will this baby survive? I don’t know what I’m doing!” Now it’s things like:

What if they get sick, like really sick?

What if I get sick, or Cory gets sick? Or what if something happens to us? Or what if something happens to them? (That one sends me over the edge yall!!)

Is it even safe to go out? To school? To church? To walk down the street? Should I tell them about violence? Should I shelter them as long as I can?

Am I selfish if I do anything I remotely enjoy?

Am I setting a good example? Of humble obedience to God? Of being compassionate? Of helping others? Of teaching them independence from me? (Another HUGEEE one I struggle with. Why would I ever want to encourage them not to need me? Insert mommy heart sad face here.)

I could write pages and pages about my fears- rational or otherwise- that now arise almost every day since having those two precious baby boys. Some days I wake up and I can stuff them down deep inside. This works for a couple weeks until I have to let it all out some way- crying, lashing out, shutting down. Some days I wake up and I don’t even know why I had those worries or fears and everything seems good! But then something can creep up- some thought that can literally make it hard to take the next breath. That feeling of dread that rattles your bones- that literally paralyzes you. Sometimes I can convince myself that these are normal mommy fears. And sometimes I’m willing to admit I have full blown anxiety. And some days I’m good at coping and some days I’m not. But everyday I’m working on realizing that I need to “Let Go and Let God”. I like to continuously tell myself whatever is meant to happen in my life is going to happen. He has already planned it for me…and planned it with a purpose. So I can spend my days worrying about what tomorrow brings OR I can spend them being so incredibly thankful and joyful for the moment I’m in right now!

It’s hard- I’m working on it….

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