Jan. 25 is a big day. It is the due date of our baby we miscarried this past year. It will always be a significant day in my mind. I should be holding my sweet new bundle, instead I'm left with empty hands and a big hole in my heart. Our miscarriage earlier this year was the most traumatic thing Michael and I have ever experienced. But through it all we kept saying, "I don't know how we would do this if Isla wasn't here." She has been our little light and hope through all of this junk. I'm so grateful God blessed us with her so we had something to hold onto through this pain. Today is a post in response to family and friends asking about our miscarriage and the events that followed. I also wanted to put something out into the world to remember this baby and the big day we dealt with back in October. Feel free to skip this post if you'd rather just know everything is ok. I am alive and well and ready to move on! And I guess, that's what matters.
But in case you were curious, I thought I'd share what happened. This is also my way of journaling and my own kind of therapy :)
So as many of you know, we found out we were pregnant in May. It was so exciting and unbelievable. We had conceived so quickly and unexpectedly. We went to three appointments and found beautiful heartbeats at the ultrasounds. Unfortunately, when we went in for our 12 week appointment in July, they couldn't find a heartbeat and determined baby's growth had stopped around 8 weeks. We were devastated. The grieving process alone has been really difficult. But we've had physical heartbreaks too.
We don't know why we miscarried, but the doctor's best guess is that my progesterone levels were greatly affected by my breastfeeding. I've already had multiple D&C's and surgeries in the past, so we chose to naturally miscarry in order to avoid scarring. The more D&C's you have, the greater your chances of infertility (and Lord knows we don't need any more trouble in that area!). So we waited it out. Waiting was by far one of the hardest parts of this experience. It was hard to go places or do anything because I didn't know what to expect. After 8 weeks our doctor said a D&C was going to be inevitable if the miscarriage didn't happen on it's own or with medication. So we chose to take the medication knowing it would make the miscarriage a lot more painful, but would allow us to avoid surgery.
The medication was very intense. Most women who take it respond within a couple hours and are finished with the process after an hour or two. For me, I continued bleeding for hours and hours. I'll spare you the details, but it was horrific. It was very similar to labor. It was intense, messy, and heartbreaking. My poor hubby saw a whole new side of me. After hour 5 of intense clotting, I passed out on the toilet. Michael took me to the ER where they extracted more (probably the most painful thing of my life). They sent me home saying "expect to keep passing tissue, but it should be over soon".
Well, it wasn't. I continued to bleed for 6 more weeks. I went in weekly to monitor my HCG levels and hemoglobin. Everything kept dropping like it should, but it was going very slowly. We did the best monitoring we could, but it was just taking it's sweet old time.
Then in September, the bleeding started to increase. My doctor assumed it was my first cycle back since it fit the timing of everything. A couple days of that passed until Tuesday, Oct. 1. I had just gotten home from lunch with a friend, put Isla down for nap, and had started cleaning the kitchen. I thought I peed my pants and looked down to see my leggings covered in blood. I ran to the bathroom and realized I was losing a lot of blood, very fast.
*I'm about to get detailed* I needed to call Michael because it was scary, but my phone was on the charger across the bedroom. I stuck a pad between my legs and waddled from my toilet to the phone. It was about a 10 foot distance and in that time I had soaked the entire pad and was bleeding onto the floor. That's how quickly I was bleeding. I called Michael and screamed "get home now. I'm losing a lot of blood." He hung up on me. Apparently I scared him enough to grab his things, jump in the car, and race home. Then I called 9-1-1. I had never done that before and was very surprised at how slowly they talk!
The paramedics arrived and were yelling for me. Fortunately, Aussie had accidentally gotten locked downstairs. That was a blessing because I'm not sure what she would have done to those guys. They came into the bathroom and asked me what had happened. They kept asking me if I was just starting my period... ugh, no. Men (insert eye roll). (By the way, Isla slept through ALL of this. The worst sleeper in the world, decided today was the day to have the best nap even with all the noise! Sweet little blessing).
Michael arrived soon after them (after going 90 mph to get home). I decided to go with Michael to the hospital because my blood pressure was fine, the paramedics said my color looked good, and I was talking and able to walk. When I stood up to leave, a rush of blood came sweeping out of me. They decided to take me instead. In the ambulance, we spent a long time in our driveway getting vitals, talking, even joking. Nothing seemed serious. My blood pressure and heart rate were healthy. As we left I kept telling the paramedic in back with me that I felt like I was bleeding a lot. I took a peek when I noticed the blood was soaking the top of my pants. They had stuck a super thick absorbent mat between my legs that had created a dam-like thing between my legs. Well the blood had started pooling between my legs and was now overflowing onto my thighs. I was losing a lot of blood. The closer we got to the hospital, I told the EMT I was going to pass out.
The next thing I knew, I was being rushed into the ER. The paramedic was banging my chest asking me to respond. All I could do was give a thumbs up. I passed out again. The next time I opened my eyes I saw probably 15-20 people running around. They seemed a little too rushed for my comfort. Over the next hour I went in and out of consciousness while they tried to stabalize me. I don't remember much of what happened, although I remember asking for Michael and begging the doctor not to take my uterus.
Michael said he arrived shortly after I did and saw them running me into the ER. When he got to the room, he said there were a lot of people. They were literally squeezing the bags of blood to get more inside of me. He said I was sprawled across the table, naked (they cut off my favorite nursing bra), and white as a ghost. He thought I had died. I can't imagine how terrifying that was for him. My blood pressure was 60 over something (so low!). My heart rate had dropped to 40. I later found out that once you hit 40 and lower a person usually goes into cardiac arrest. Michael said they were warming the paddles up getting ready to resuscitate me. Apparently only 27% of patients survive cardiac arrest. Scary odds.
I remember coming to (not sure on the timeline) and I looked over to see a clock. Beneath it was Michael. He had his head in his hands and he was crying. I couldn't talk and didn't know much of what was going on. But in my head I just begged God to protect Isla. I asked him to keep Isla and Michael safe if I died. But then I begged him not to take me. I wasn't ready to leave my hubby and baby. Even now as I type this, I'm crying. I'm not sure if you've ever been close to death, but this was terrifying. I've never been so vulnerable and scared, but mostly just for the ones I loved. I remember thinking what will happen if I die? I also remember thinking, "my gosh, Michael has no idea how to feed Isla organic food or give her sensory experiences." It's funny what runs through your mind on death's bed haha
Eventually, they stabalized me. I sat up and vomited a lot and immediately felt great. I remember thinking, "ok good. I'm done. Time to go home!". I had ended up going through 3 bags of saline and 3 bags of blood, ready for the 4th. We later found out they overtransfused me. I probably only have 4.5-5 liters of blood in my body total. So they gave me way too much, which resulted in some terrible symptoms later.
My OB got there and told me we would have to do a D&C. I was devastated. Had I known all of this would happen, I would have had this done way back in July. They did the D&C and found placenta from the miscarriage that had crystalized. Unfortunately, that was not the cause of my hemorrhage. So far, we don't know the cause. I'll get to that.
After surgery, I came to and started uncontrollably shaking (just like when I gave birth to Isla). I heard the nurse say she had never seen shaking so bad. They had to hold me down until I stopped. That night, I stayed in Labor and Delivery so they could monitor me. And get this, one of the techs that drew my blood congratulated me. Michael and I rolled our eyes, wondering if she realized there was no baby in the room with us. Dumb.
When I came home I had terrible symptoms of being overtransfused. My chest and shoulders hurt when I breathed deeply and my legs cramped a lot. I also had severe panic attacks, which didn't help the chest pains. One of the attacks was so bad that I started seeing spots, going dizzy, getting nauseous, and felt like I was going to pass out. These attacks were crippling. One day I went out with Isla and had to turn around and come home because I was terrified of hemorrhaging in the car.
At my post op appointment we didn't receive any better news. My OB went over the pathology results, which confirmed the placenta. But then she said the ER doctors and herself are just stumped. They have no idea why I started hemorrhaging like I did. So, after Isla was born I bled for 12 weeks and had to have a D&C then too. I also came close to hemorrhaging at her birth. This time I bled for 6 weeks before my hemorrhage. The medical world always says that redheads are bleeders, but this is more than that. There is something that happens to my body when a baby leaves it. My OB said there is something very strange going on with my lining. It could be genetic, it could be a disorder, but she has no idea. She doesn't even know who to send me to or what to look into. So from here, I am seeking a hematologist in a few months (I have to wait until I have my own blood after the transfusion). I am also seeking a second opinion from another OB who deals with clotting disorders and getting a referral for an MFM doctor an hour away. But none of those answers are very promising. This isn't a diagnosable thing at this point, it's just a freak thing that happens postpartum. For my next birth, I will be considered high risk and will have to have some additional people in the room in case it ends in a hemorrhage again. I will also have to be closely monitored following the birth.
As per my doctor's suggestion and my own need of normalcy, I have been seeking therapy. That has been a long process too of finding the right fit. I think I may have found someone great though, who specifically specializes in miscarriage and trauma related to birth. Michael may start going with me too since he was so greatly affected as well. I can't imagine watching the person you love most bleed out in front of you and come so close to death.
We are forever grateful for the Lord's provision. All the right things fell into place in order for my life to be saved. It was by far, the most traumatic thing either one of us have experienced. We almost forgot there was a baby at all because this 6 month process has been so ongoing and difficult.
We had the opportunity in late October to go to a graveside memorial for our lost baby. It was a special way to say goodbye and to remember that short little life. The baby's plot is in Peoria, IL with some other little angels that have left too early, as well. We have a framed ultrasound picture of our baby with a little stone angel next to it. The inside of the angel had a heart cut out that we were able to bury with our baby too. It seems trivial, but I'm glad we have a little special way to remember that life.
So today, we want to remember our baby, but also think about the hard stuff too. I ask Michael all the time what he would be doing right now if I had died back in October. It's probably a mean question, but it really puts life into perspective. All of a sudden silly arguments and details that bother me don't seem so big anymore. Every day is a gift and we do our best to cherish each other and our sweet Isla. Someday, I hope to meet my baby again in heaven. But for now, we will remember the baby we lost and the lessons we've learned from all of this.
But in case you were curious, I thought I'd share what happened. This is also my way of journaling and my own kind of therapy :)
So as many of you know, we found out we were pregnant in May. It was so exciting and unbelievable. We had conceived so quickly and unexpectedly. We went to three appointments and found beautiful heartbeats at the ultrasounds. Unfortunately, when we went in for our 12 week appointment in July, they couldn't find a heartbeat and determined baby's growth had stopped around 8 weeks. We were devastated. The grieving process alone has been really difficult. But we've had physical heartbreaks too.
We don't know why we miscarried, but the doctor's best guess is that my progesterone levels were greatly affected by my breastfeeding. I've already had multiple D&C's and surgeries in the past, so we chose to naturally miscarry in order to avoid scarring. The more D&C's you have, the greater your chances of infertility (and Lord knows we don't need any more trouble in that area!). So we waited it out. Waiting was by far one of the hardest parts of this experience. It was hard to go places or do anything because I didn't know what to expect. After 8 weeks our doctor said a D&C was going to be inevitable if the miscarriage didn't happen on it's own or with medication. So we chose to take the medication knowing it would make the miscarriage a lot more painful, but would allow us to avoid surgery.
The medication was very intense. Most women who take it respond within a couple hours and are finished with the process after an hour or two. For me, I continued bleeding for hours and hours. I'll spare you the details, but it was horrific. It was very similar to labor. It was intense, messy, and heartbreaking. My poor hubby saw a whole new side of me. After hour 5 of intense clotting, I passed out on the toilet. Michael took me to the ER where they extracted more (probably the most painful thing of my life). They sent me home saying "expect to keep passing tissue, but it should be over soon".
Well, it wasn't. I continued to bleed for 6 more weeks. I went in weekly to monitor my HCG levels and hemoglobin. Everything kept dropping like it should, but it was going very slowly. We did the best monitoring we could, but it was just taking it's sweet old time.
Then in September, the bleeding started to increase. My doctor assumed it was my first cycle back since it fit the timing of everything. A couple days of that passed until Tuesday, Oct. 1. I had just gotten home from lunch with a friend, put Isla down for nap, and had started cleaning the kitchen. I thought I peed my pants and looked down to see my leggings covered in blood. I ran to the bathroom and realized I was losing a lot of blood, very fast.
*I'm about to get detailed* I needed to call Michael because it was scary, but my phone was on the charger across the bedroom. I stuck a pad between my legs and waddled from my toilet to the phone. It was about a 10 foot distance and in that time I had soaked the entire pad and was bleeding onto the floor. That's how quickly I was bleeding. I called Michael and screamed "get home now. I'm losing a lot of blood." He hung up on me. Apparently I scared him enough to grab his things, jump in the car, and race home. Then I called 9-1-1. I had never done that before and was very surprised at how slowly they talk!
The paramedics arrived and were yelling for me. Fortunately, Aussie had accidentally gotten locked downstairs. That was a blessing because I'm not sure what she would have done to those guys. They came into the bathroom and asked me what had happened. They kept asking me if I was just starting my period... ugh, no. Men (insert eye roll). (By the way, Isla slept through ALL of this. The worst sleeper in the world, decided today was the day to have the best nap even with all the noise! Sweet little blessing).
Michael arrived soon after them (after going 90 mph to get home). I decided to go with Michael to the hospital because my blood pressure was fine, the paramedics said my color looked good, and I was talking and able to walk. When I stood up to leave, a rush of blood came sweeping out of me. They decided to take me instead. In the ambulance, we spent a long time in our driveway getting vitals, talking, even joking. Nothing seemed serious. My blood pressure and heart rate were healthy. As we left I kept telling the paramedic in back with me that I felt like I was bleeding a lot. I took a peek when I noticed the blood was soaking the top of my pants. They had stuck a super thick absorbent mat between my legs that had created a dam-like thing between my legs. Well the blood had started pooling between my legs and was now overflowing onto my thighs. I was losing a lot of blood. The closer we got to the hospital, I told the EMT I was going to pass out.
The next thing I knew, I was being rushed into the ER. The paramedic was banging my chest asking me to respond. All I could do was give a thumbs up. I passed out again. The next time I opened my eyes I saw probably 15-20 people running around. They seemed a little too rushed for my comfort. Over the next hour I went in and out of consciousness while they tried to stabalize me. I don't remember much of what happened, although I remember asking for Michael and begging the doctor not to take my uterus.
Michael said he arrived shortly after I did and saw them running me into the ER. When he got to the room, he said there were a lot of people. They were literally squeezing the bags of blood to get more inside of me. He said I was sprawled across the table, naked (they cut off my favorite nursing bra), and white as a ghost. He thought I had died. I can't imagine how terrifying that was for him. My blood pressure was 60 over something (so low!). My heart rate had dropped to 40. I later found out that once you hit 40 and lower a person usually goes into cardiac arrest. Michael said they were warming the paddles up getting ready to resuscitate me. Apparently only 27% of patients survive cardiac arrest. Scary odds.
I remember coming to (not sure on the timeline) and I looked over to see a clock. Beneath it was Michael. He had his head in his hands and he was crying. I couldn't talk and didn't know much of what was going on. But in my head I just begged God to protect Isla. I asked him to keep Isla and Michael safe if I died. But then I begged him not to take me. I wasn't ready to leave my hubby and baby. Even now as I type this, I'm crying. I'm not sure if you've ever been close to death, but this was terrifying. I've never been so vulnerable and scared, but mostly just for the ones I loved. I remember thinking what will happen if I die? I also remember thinking, "my gosh, Michael has no idea how to feed Isla organic food or give her sensory experiences." It's funny what runs through your mind on death's bed haha
Eventually, they stabalized me. I sat up and vomited a lot and immediately felt great. I remember thinking, "ok good. I'm done. Time to go home!". I had ended up going through 3 bags of saline and 3 bags of blood, ready for the 4th. We later found out they overtransfused me. I probably only have 4.5-5 liters of blood in my body total. So they gave me way too much, which resulted in some terrible symptoms later.
My OB got there and told me we would have to do a D&C. I was devastated. Had I known all of this would happen, I would have had this done way back in July. They did the D&C and found placenta from the miscarriage that had crystalized. Unfortunately, that was not the cause of my hemorrhage. So far, we don't know the cause. I'll get to that.
After surgery, I came to and started uncontrollably shaking (just like when I gave birth to Isla). I heard the nurse say she had never seen shaking so bad. They had to hold me down until I stopped. That night, I stayed in Labor and Delivery so they could monitor me. And get this, one of the techs that drew my blood congratulated me. Michael and I rolled our eyes, wondering if she realized there was no baby in the room with us. Dumb.
When I came home I had terrible symptoms of being overtransfused. My chest and shoulders hurt when I breathed deeply and my legs cramped a lot. I also had severe panic attacks, which didn't help the chest pains. One of the attacks was so bad that I started seeing spots, going dizzy, getting nauseous, and felt like I was going to pass out. These attacks were crippling. One day I went out with Isla and had to turn around and come home because I was terrified of hemorrhaging in the car.
At my post op appointment we didn't receive any better news. My OB went over the pathology results, which confirmed the placenta. But then she said the ER doctors and herself are just stumped. They have no idea why I started hemorrhaging like I did. So, after Isla was born I bled for 12 weeks and had to have a D&C then too. I also came close to hemorrhaging at her birth. This time I bled for 6 weeks before my hemorrhage. The medical world always says that redheads are bleeders, but this is more than that. There is something that happens to my body when a baby leaves it. My OB said there is something very strange going on with my lining. It could be genetic, it could be a disorder, but she has no idea. She doesn't even know who to send me to or what to look into. So from here, I am seeking a hematologist in a few months (I have to wait until I have my own blood after the transfusion). I am also seeking a second opinion from another OB who deals with clotting disorders and getting a referral for an MFM doctor an hour away. But none of those answers are very promising. This isn't a diagnosable thing at this point, it's just a freak thing that happens postpartum. For my next birth, I will be considered high risk and will have to have some additional people in the room in case it ends in a hemorrhage again. I will also have to be closely monitored following the birth.
As per my doctor's suggestion and my own need of normalcy, I have been seeking therapy. That has been a long process too of finding the right fit. I think I may have found someone great though, who specifically specializes in miscarriage and trauma related to birth. Michael may start going with me too since he was so greatly affected as well. I can't imagine watching the person you love most bleed out in front of you and come so close to death.
We are forever grateful for the Lord's provision. All the right things fell into place in order for my life to be saved. It was by far, the most traumatic thing either one of us have experienced. We almost forgot there was a baby at all because this 6 month process has been so ongoing and difficult.
We had the opportunity in late October to go to a graveside memorial for our lost baby. It was a special way to say goodbye and to remember that short little life. The baby's plot is in Peoria, IL with some other little angels that have left too early, as well. We have a framed ultrasound picture of our baby with a little stone angel next to it. The inside of the angel had a heart cut out that we were able to bury with our baby too. It seems trivial, but I'm glad we have a little special way to remember that life.
So today, we want to remember our baby, but also think about the hard stuff too. I ask Michael all the time what he would be doing right now if I had died back in October. It's probably a mean question, but it really puts life into perspective. All of a sudden silly arguments and details that bother me don't seem so big anymore. Every day is a gift and we do our best to cherish each other and our sweet Isla. Someday, I hope to meet my baby again in heaven. But for now, we will remember the baby we lost and the lessons we've learned from all of this.
we were able to leave a short message on the casket for our baby
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