The Last Day of My First Pregnancy
The Last Day
June 25, 2018 was the third best day of my life. Right after (1) accepting Jesus & (2) marrying Franklin.
The second line that popped up on that little screen letting us know we were expecting took me by surprise!
This was only our second cycle trying and it happened, right on schedule!
Exactly as we’d planned!
I told Franklin on July 2nd and he couldn’t be happier! Tears of joy EVERYWHERE! (I made him think we were recording a Dallas based travel video. I’ll share it down below!)
Who would have known that six weeks after finding out about this little bundle of joy that we’d be deciding the best course of action to making sure the miscarriage completely ran it’s course.
At our first sonogram, I was 9 weeks and 2 days along, but we found that the baby stopped growing at about 6 weeks and didn’t have a heartbeat.
It’s so crazy, because on the ride to the sonogram, we decided we we’re going to tell our family the week of Franklin’s birthday. We were going to Haynesville, Louisiana to tell everyone.
Unfortunately, the announcement trip turned into announcement phone calls to all 6 of our parents and my grandma. From the planned, “We’re having a baby!” to a more somber, “I have to have surgery Thursday because I’m pregnant, but the baby stopped growing..”
That was not part of our plan.
Nor was it something I thought I was able to handle.
I always knew miscarriages were common. (About 20% of all pregnancies end this way) I just didn’t think it would happen to me.
I’m only 27 years old. Healthy as a horse. And after my diagnosis of Major Depressive Disorder and Severe Anxiety last year, I thought that was as bad as it could get. So a miscarriage just wouldn’t happen.
But it did.
It happened to me.
And I’ve learned that suffering favors neither the weak nor the strong, the young nor the old, the faithful nor the faithless.
So I’m left with the thought that I will never get to hold this baby. Never get to kiss their cheeks and tell them how much they were wanted and how much I loved them already. Nor will I be able to tell them how hard we prayed for them and the joy we felt at the mere thought of them being here with us.
I’m left with only questions.
Will I be able to be excited when we conceive again?
Will I experience the joy that I first felt when I found out about this baby?
Will I be able to see the joy in my husband’s eyes this next time around, or will I only see the same doubt that exists in my heart?
Will I be nervous about every little thing until I hear the heartbeat of this next baby?
Then again, a mother never stops worrying about her child.
But while I’m at a pretty weak part in this journey, I know that my Abba (Father) has us and this sweet baby and we’ll get through this.
I wanted to make sure that I included this experience in my blog because I know it’s part of life.
While I’m not the best at expressing myself verbally (I’m a pretty guarded girl), I feel as though I can best express my feelings through writing about it and getting it out that way.
No one really talks about miscarriages.
I know of only one person who has openly told me about their miscarriage before I was pregnant. When she told others, she felt so unsupported. I didn’t want to experience that, so I didn’t tell very many people.
For a minute, I felt like I was the only one.
But the more I opened up about my miscarriage, the more people opened up to me about theirs.
And I feel a little less alone.
So for the woman who has miscarried like me: You’re not alone. And you’ll get through this!
We all will.
Our journey does not stop here. It is only the beginning.
So today, the last day of my very first pregnancy, I will be grateful for this last bit of morning (all day) sickness, extreme fatigue, and sore boobs!
As our journey to parenthood continues, I’ll continue to update this page with how everything’s going.
Here’s what’s happening so far: