I had my first ultrasound for baby #5 when I was 9 weeks. Because of COVID restrictions, I had to go by myself.
After congratulating me on my pregnancy (because we had tried for almost 8 months), we went to the ultrasound room. I knew immediately something was wrong. I'm not too bright when it comes to reading x-rays or ultrasounds, but I know when something is missing. And my baby was missing.
The room went quiet.
The doctor explained he couldnt find the fetus in the gestational sac. I pretty much stopped hearing anything after that. He talked for a while, saying it could be a miscarriage, or maybe I'm a few weeks earlier than I thought. I knew I wasn't earlier. I had tracked this thing diligently. He talked for a few more minutes, then asked, "Any questions?"
I sat there.
Numb.
I cried and said, "I just dont understand."
They then took my blood, and had me return 2 days later to get my blood drawn again. Doing this tracks my HCG levels. If they're doubling in number, that's good. If not, it's a miscarriage.
I drove home that night a wreck. Matt was at basketball practice. I messaged him to not linger, that I needed him home ASAP.
He came home and I told him what happened. He held me. I cried.
And cried.
And cried.
Every commercial that night happened to be of a pregnant person, or a new mom holding a newborn. I didn't want to see it. It hurt too much.
I had told Matt about 2 weeks earlier that I felt too good for being pregnant. I told him, "Either something's wrong, or working out has really been beneficial this time."
We found out later my HCG levels were dropping. It was a miscarriage. I had to return to the OB. He explained my options, and I chose to wait and have the miscarriage happen naturally. It was hard because I wanted it to just be over. It felt like things were being dragged out, and I had to keep reliving everything. I still FELT pregnant, and I still LOOKED pregnant at night. I had gained weight, too. It sucked knowing I was still considered pregnant, but that there was no baby in there.
Fortunately I had told a few close friends: Shaeli, Marianne, and Dyana. Initially I felt foolish for announcing to them so early on. But it ended up being really healing for me to talk it out with them. These ladies were incredible for me to lean on. They cried with me, they checked in on me, they sent me cookies and other gifts, and uplifting messages. They were empathetic. They were there for me when I needed it.
I didn't feel full closure until talking with Dy late one night where she explained a spiritual experience that she knows these miscarried babies will be ours to raise in the next life. That was something I was really concerned about. I needed to hear that for me to start healing. For some reason, I knew that to be true, but doubted it because I was so early on. The OB had said I likely lost the baby around 6 weeks. Dy has had a few miscarriages herself, and she knew exactly what I was going through. I'm so thankful for her. She's always so in tune. I'm so thankful God gave me a friend like her.
I felt impressed to tell Taylor about this experience. None of the kids knew we were even trying. None of my family knew. But Taylor is smart, and I knew she was concerned with all my "not feeling well" stories, and going to the dr. I couldn't lie to her anymore. She cried with me, and offered me some words of encouragement. She wrote me the sweetest letter. I am so blessed to be her mom.
The very next day, I found a post on IG from the Church talking about losing a child. It hit home, and again, another impression came to my mind about this experience being for my good-- that I would be able to be more empathetic for people because of this experience. The scripture to Joseph Smith came to my mind:
D&C 122:7
know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee eexperience, and shall be for thy good.
