I had a previous post about my loss of Alexander on my other blog, I didn’t save it so I thought I’d rewrite one. “There’s no heartbeat”
50% of all pregnancies will end in a loss-
I did not think I would ever fail into that 50% but I did on September 3rd 2016. I can’t remember the date I first took the pregnancy test but I remember where I was, my reaction, Nate’s reaction and what my heart felt. I was sitting on our brand new apartment floor eating ice-cream that made me nauseated, I was also watching Netflix; Pretty sure I was watching FRIENDS. I was snap-chatting a dear friend of mine and I happened to tell her I had felt nauseous the last week or so, she asked me if I could be pregnant. I said “HECK NO.” I was confident in that response for two reasons: 1) I was only 4 months PP, and 2) at that time I was on birth control (Worst experience ever, never doing it again! Advice- STAY AWAY FROM HORMONAL BIRTH CONTROL!) She then asked if I had any extra tests that I could take JUST in case, to rule out a pregnancy; Conveniently I did have two digital pregnancy tests- I have no clue why I had them. Left overs maybe? Anyway, If you’ve ever taken a pregnancy test you’ll know that those 3 minutes can feel like an eternity, and this was my eternity; Lydia was asleep so I didn’t have any interruptions, I was able to sit and stare at the test for 3 minutes straight until the word “PREGNANT” popped up. It honestly first felt like a dream, just pinch yourself and wake up; NOPE. Real life. “Pregnant? Pregnant… Pregnant!” My heart felt conflicted, one on hand I was very excited to have another life growing in me, but on the other hand it was scary that I would be putting myself through another pregnancy so quickly after Lydia, (I didn’t even heal from my rough delivery with Lydia until 6m PP) It was such a weird moment, It was like time stopped; I was so confused and freaked out that I texted my poor husband “I’m pregnant” Hahah… He wasn’t too thrilled to find out through text message. (He wasn’t home when I took the test).
When he got home, we snuggled, cried, and discussed how this would work; how we would make it work. We got excited… We had two weeks of “new baby” bliss, I was pinning ideas of announcing, gender reveal, baby shower, baby photos on pinterest-We started to talk about baby names. Pure joy for two weeks before it all went wrong. I woke up at 7/8am on September 3rd and went to the bathroom, Red… I saw red, and red means blood and blood means loss (in a lot of cases); If you are a mother or experienced a loss you know that blood in pregnancy is almost never good. My heart sank, I knew I just knew. I didn’t want to “know” so I tried to stay positive but then the cramps began, the migraine and nausea started that’s when I officially knew that my body betrayed me and that my baby was no longer living. He was gone. I didn’t have time to cry, I had to get myself and Lydia ready for the busy day ahead of us so I simply bottled it up so I could get on with my day. I put on a pad, popped some tylenol and went on with the morning. When Nate woke up, I carelessly (But not really..) said “I think I’m miscarrying, so no more baby.” my poor husband just looked at me like “Why aren’t you more upset about this?” He said, “oh…” and went in the bathroom. I continued to get ready; Looking back on that moment, I of course wish I would of done it differently but it was what it was, it’s how I reacted. It wasn’t until that evening when Nate and Lydia were sound asleep and I was alone that the grief hit me like a ton of bricks; the bottle I put all the emotions that I needed to, should of felt earlier in the day finally exploded, and I was a mess. The tears began flowing, the vomiting because the emotional pain was too intense began, I was broken. For the first time in my life I was completely stripped down and broken into a million little pieces. I got angry, angry at my body, angry at God, angry at everything. I was angry at my body because it decided to not allow my precious baby that I wanted to grow to full term; It betrayed me, it didn’t do what it should of. I was angry at God for not giving me another healthy baby, I was angry that He wrote in my story to go through this pain for whatever reason; I learned in the “Angry at God” phase of my grief that He is God and I am not, I do not need to understand everything that happens even if I want to. The next 5 days I bled heavily and my body finished out the “miscarrying” process, I intensely grieved in those 5 days at the end of those 5 days; Nate approached me, out of the blue and said “Our son needs a name.” I answered with “I agree.” I had no name ideas, I didn’t even think of naming our son; I am so glad he thought of naming him. Nate came up with the name – Alexander Riley Church. Isn’t it lovely? I loved it from the moment it left Nate’s lip. Alex, Alexander… Our son. Alexander means protector, and Riley means valiant. Naming our baby began the healing process, I slowly began to pick up the pieces of my broken soul and put them back together. I slowly began to be happy instead of heartbroken when Alexander would pop into my mind. I am happy because I know one day I’ll meet him, I’ll hold him. It’ll be great.
Alex would be turning the big T-W-O right along with his big sister Lydia this coming April. It’s crazy how fast time goes. I believe that Alex watches over us, and that he sent Willow, our rainbow baby girl to us. I believe that he protects his sisters even from above and that’s comforting. I would say that I am healed; being healed though does not mean that I don’t ever miss Alex or get sad sometimes that he isn’t here. I do miss him everyday, I do get sad sometimes because he isn’t here and that I’m not walking out milestones with him like I did and am doing with Lydia and Willow but I do find comfort that one day I will meet, hold, and kiss him. To my fellow mamas of loss, just know that healing does come slowly but surely it will come.
“Miscarriages are labor, Miscarriage are birth.To consider less dishonors the women whose wombs have held life however briefly.”