During my first visit to the Perinatal Dr. we were thrilled to see our little bean on the ultrasound. For a good 20 minutes we saw the shape of our little one on a huge screen. This being my first pregnancy, I wasn’t aware at the time that the baby would have had some activity, and I would have been able to see a “flutter” (I was about 9 weeks 6 days at this time). Sadly, the Dr. came in to inform us that the baby measured 8 weeks and 6 days. Our baby stopped living about one week before. I was devastated. I broke down right then and right there and did not care who heard me. My heart was broken.
I decided against a D&C and waited, with my baby inside of me, until God decided it was time. About 3 weeks later, I started to have contractions and passed the baby/tissue at home. It was a painful and emotional roller coaster. We had our own little memorial for our lost child, and buried our baby.
During the first pregnancy we decided we would decorate the nursery with a Sock Monkey theme. We went to the store and bought every color, sealed them in a bag to be pulled out when we started the nursery. That day never came, and so one day after the miscarriage I pulled out the brown/red monkey and called it Baby Bean. Being 30 years old, and sleeping with a stuffed monkey may have seemed absurd to outsiders, but this brought me SO much closeness and comfort.
Luckily, our brains and hearts are strong and resilient muscles and allow you to smile love and laugh again.
After we lost Baby Bean, I was put myself on a low carb, high exercise regime. When I lost the first baby, I weighed 235 pounds. The Dr told me that the miscarriage was probably due to my weight/health and blood sugar. Nobody could say anything to take the blame from me! Matt, who was my fiancé at the time, and I got married on March 20th and had the best day of our lives together. We went to Las Vegas for our honeymoon and enjoyed, laughed and indulged every second!
Once May came around (I had had 2 menstrual cycles by this time) I started to chart/temp using the basal thermometer. I noticed that I ovulated on June 3rd, and was anxiously walking through the “2 week wait”. Finally, at about 4 weeks (VERY early), I got my BFP! “Wow! That was easy!” I started to develop morning sickness, and every pregnancy symptom in the book. This made me thrilled! My first pregnancy, I did not experience any sickness or symptoms and so I thought that this meant it was a good thing. I scheduled my first prenatal appointment to be around 8 weeks. No need to go any earlier. The morning of my appointment, as I was getting ready to shower, I noticed that I was bleeding. It was bright red blood but with no pain. I immediately broke down. How could this happen?! I was glad that it was the same morning as my appointment.
We arrived at the Dr.’s office and he did a quick pelvic exam and noticed a good amount of blood. He sent me over to the hospital for a STAT ultrasound. To my amazement, our little Jakob was moving EVERYWHERE and have a great heartbeat in the 160s! I cried as I watched him. After the u/s I was told that I had moderate placenta previa. A week later I went back to the Dr. for another appointment, but was still bleeding at this point. He wanted to check again, so he sent me for another u/s. Again, our little Jakob was moving and wiggling, and had a fantastic heart rate. This time, I was told that I did NOT have previa, but did have a sub chorionic hemorrhage and was to be on a no lifting, moderate bed rest “diet”.
So for the next 2 weeks or so, I laid in bed. The bleeding would slow, but then be heavier at other times. My husband took care of me and I rested, all the while Praying HARD. I was very optimistic, even with losing one baby already.
Then, like a roller coaster, everything started to go crazy. On August 16th, (my husband’s birthday) we were getting ready for bed, and I said to him “I swear it feels like I am having little contractions”. We kind of laughed it off, and then went to bed. Around 3am I woke up – and I was right – I was having contractions. Only now they were stronger and closer together. We rushed off to the ER and the did a quick u/s. After that u/s I don’t remember much from that morning. The last thing I remember is the Dr. telling me that our baby was fully engaged, and I was dilated to 4cm. I was exactly 13 weeks that day. Our baby had a heartbeat of 155/bpm. My body was in preterm labor, and there was nothing they could do to save our little bean.
Again, I decided to give this pregnancy every chance (especially with knowing there was a heartbeat) and went home to wait it out. The entire day was a fog. Around 9pm, on August 17th, my water broke and the contractions started. This once was a lot worse than the previous pregnancy. I started to bleed very heavily and felt faint. I informed my husband to call 911. My contractions were about 2 minutes apart. The ambulance came, and they brought me to the ER. When I stood up to get on their gurney I felt something coming out. They told me they would leave it there until we got down to the hospital.
Once we arrived, I informed the nurse that something “felt stuck”. She took a peak, and told me that it was our baby. Now, during the first miscarriage, you could not see anything. It was all tissue. So, I was surprised when she told me it was my baby, so I said “you can see it?”… “Yes”, she said. I asked to see my child. Seeing my child was the best decision I ever made. He was beautiful. He looked like a baby, just very tiny. He had arms and fingers. Legs and toes. Little tiny ears and nose. I could even see his little ribs through his fragile skin. He was beautiful, and perfect. He was gone.
After a few hours I received a pelvic exam and was told I could go home. I asked to see our baby once more. I didn’t want to leave him there. I wanted to take him home alive and breathing. But I couldn’t, and it was all over.
A few weeks later I received the pathology report on our son. He was in fact perfect, with no development anomalies. No physical problems. And he was a boy.
We decided to name our son. My husband came up with the name Jakob. This was not a name that we had discussed, but we knew it was his name. After this second miscarriage I became SO angry with God. I didn’t understand how he could do this. My husband has had cancer twice, and has a blood clotting disorder. I had 2 miscarriages. Was he playing a joke on us? When would OUR luck change? A few weeks later I decided to look up to story of Jacob in the Bible. Wow. God had a plan, and it was to see that he was not being cruel. But that he loved us. The one thing I read about Jacob was “Jacob is not a special case–he is a picture of all of us. All of us struggle with God.” And I also found this: “God had a will for Jacob’s life and made promises to him pertaining to that will, but Jacob had been stubbornly resisting God’s leadership at every step.” Matt and I had been stubborn with God. We needed to “Let go, and let God”. Although my son is gone forever, my love for the Lord has been resurrected. I don’t blame Him any longer.
We are now a Committed family. Although it’s hard to move on, and I cry a few times a week, I still know that God DOES have a plan.
After we lost Jakob, I was sent to endocrinology. My Dr. ran a battery of tests and found that I have a genetic defect called “Non Classic Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia”. It’s a mild case, but it was affecting my hormones and my body. She didn’t think it had anything to do with the losses, but could play a part. I am now taking Metformin for hormonal stuff, reflecting PCOS. And the best part?? I am NOT diabetic. I have done so well with diet and exercise, that I am controlling my numbers. I now weigh 203 pounds and I pray that in December, if my hormones adjust, we can start to plan for another Rainbow.
If anyone reading my story wants to talk, vent, cry or scream – PLEASE, email me. I am a great listener and I can relate. I will be praying for all of the moms on this site and everywhere else in the world who are in the middle of, or have lost a child.