Sunday, March 29, 2015

A Star in the Sky

Trigger Warning: This post describes my miscarriage experience. Please proceed with caution.
Photo courtesy of Helga Weber on Flickr
I apologize for not updating here for a while. I just haven't known what to say. It's been difficult for me to describe what I went through or how I feel. The only way I can explain it is empty. Like there's a hole in my heart that can never be filled again. This miscarriage has changed me. And I hate that no one can tell. I look the same on the outside. I still go to work, see my family and friends, and overall act like I'm "normal," but I'm not. Not at all. I've lost something so beautiful and precious. I've lost a piece of my heart and I can never get it back.

The miscarriage didn't happen naturally. I can't blame my body for wanting to hold on to the pregnancy. A part of me didn't want to let it go. A part of me wanted a miracle to happen. But in my heart I knew it was over. I knew that the light had burned out.

After about a week of waiting for the bleeding to start on it's own, my RE prescribed Misoprostol to initiate the process. It was terrible. The pain itself was manageable. But once the bleeding started, I completely broke down and sobbed. My pregnancy, my embryo, my baby had died and now I have to watch as it's expelled from my body. It was awful. Seeing clots as large as my palm come out every hour, and knowing that the blood and tissue had supported the life inside of me, it was dreadful. I was literally flushing my hopes and dreams down the toilet.

Eventually the tissue started to come out. It didn't come out in one piece. But once the larger part of the sac came out, I held it in my hands and cried. It was empty. It looked like it had been torn in shreds. How do I honor something that held my baby, if even for such a brief time? I didn't know what to do. So I said a prayer over it. I tried to express the love I felt for my baby, my little embryo that died. But words aren't enough.

Unfortunately, this process lasted about 4 weeks. Longer than it should have, but my RE honored my wishes in trying to avoid a D&C. I was medically induced 5 times (4 rounds of Misoprostol and 1 of Methergine) but at the end there was still tissue and clots that were "stuck" and refused to come out. Because I've already had 2 uterine surgeries for my septum, we wanted to use the D&C as a last resort. My RE finally convinced me that if we let the miscarriage go on any longer, then I would be putting my long term chances of conception at risk. I was at a very high risk of infection, and he needed to get the remaining tissue out ASAP. So I finally agreed to do the D&C. I just wanted the physical part to be over so I could start to heal.

I wish this didn't have to be so physically and emotionally draining. It has been the worst experience of my life. I hope I never have to go through it again. But I know it's a possibility. With any pregnancy there's a risk of miscarriage. And it scares me.

So that's why we're taking a break. I need time to physically heal and recover from this loss. Daniel and I need time to grieve. And we need to decide what's next. But I'm not ready to make that decision yet. We have 2 frozen embryos, so I think we'll eventually do a FET. But I can't tell you when that will be. I'll know we're ready when I can feel hope again. When the hope of pregnancy is greater than the fear of loss.

Right now, we're just trying to find a new normal. I'm trying to heal but at the same time I want to honor the life I carried for such a brief time. I want it to have meaning and significance. I want the life to be recognized for what it was. It was a miracle. It was so small but so precious to me. Even if the world will never know it's name, it will forever be a part of who I am.

In my mind, the life I carried was a baby. The embryo died before it even had a heartbeat. But it was my baby. I don't know if it's an angel in heaven. Or maybe it became a star in the sky. Whatever happened, it was mine. And I will never forget the love I felt or how special it was to me. It was my dream come true. Now it's just a memory.
"A star falls from the sky and into your hands. Then it seeps through your veins and swims inside your blood and becomes every part of you. And then you have to put it back into the sky. And it's the most painful thing you'll ever have to do and that you've ever done. But what's yours is yours. Whether it's up in the sky or here in your hands. And one day, it'll fall from the sky and hit you in the head real hard and that time, you won't have to put it back in the sky again." ~ C. JoyBell C


  1. This is heartbreaking. I am so sorry that things ended this way, and I honestly don't think there's anything I can say to make you feel better. Just know that I am sending many hugs your way, and I hope that after taking a break and grieving this loss, you'll find the strength to keep moving forward and hopefully get your happy ending.

  2. Aw huh. I'm so sorry. You've been on my mind. Hugs.