Note: I wrote this post back in May 2019. Today, it is January 2020, and I am 25 weeks pregnant with my sweet rainbow baby. I have just now decided that if my story can encourage one person to get help or provide someone with hope, it is worth posting.
Most people don't know that I had a miscarriage at the beginning of this year. If you didn't know, don't feel bad; I'm notoriously private about these things. I didn't even tell my own mother until I was well into a month of it. Here's a little back story. Before Christmas, Clif and I found out we were expecting our third. All the normal emotions took over: excited, nervous, thrilled, terrified. We celebrated Christmas, went to Red River, NM, and rang in the New Year with this special secret. When winter break was over, I went back to work and scheduled my first prenatal visit at about the 10 week mark. It was at that visit that I learned that the baby was measuring very small, but it did have a heartbeat. My doctor said there was a 50/50 chance of the baby surviving and to come back in a week to see if the baby grew. A week later the baby did not grow and there was no longer a heartbeat.
The doctor and I decided to wait a few weeks to see if my body would miscarry naturally, and it did about 3 weeks later. The miscarriage has been hard in so many ways. Physically it has been almost debilitating. Emotionally it has been disheartening and discouraging. Mentally it has been depressing. You may notice that I am writing this portion in the present tense. That's because over three months later, I am still in the process of having a miscarriage. At this point, I've had the pregnancy hormone in me for almost five months.
I have a history of postpartum depression. It took me about 6 months after I gave birth to Colt to finally muster up the courage to ask a doctor for help with the turmoil that was taking place in my mind. My anxiety was so high I felt like every decision I made for my sweet, new baby was a life or death decision: down to the socks I put on his feet in the morning. The anxiety I felt about my ability to be a good mother by constantly questioning my instincts brought on a wave a depression and anxiety that is indescribable. The only word that comes to mind is worthless. I felt like I was truly worthless when it came to every aspect of my life: being a wife, mother, teacher, daughter, friend, woman, dog owner, homeowner...I think you get the picture.
When Colt was 6 months old, he had a bad case of RSV while Clif was out of town. I had a full on breakdown. I was convinced that I caused the illness, and somehow, if Clif had been there, it never would have happened-- not because it was wrong for him to go, but because I was that incompetent of a mother. I really don't remember too much of the whole experience other than calling my mother in hysterics and her really pushing me to go see my doctor.
Thankfully, that doctor's visit did offer me relief. My doctor listened to my fears and doubts. She heard my sadness for what it truly was. We decided to try medication and a support group that met via Facebook. After a few weeks, I was feeling better. When I had Cody, my doctor, Clif, and I decided that I should go on the medication immediately after giving birth. This is one of the best decisions I've ever made for myself and my family. Comparing the first 6 months of both of my boys' lives is like comparing night to day. I was fun. I was happy. I felt capable even when things were difficult (I had a 2 year old and a newborn--nothing was easy!).
All of this backstory is to say, after about week 5 of the miscarriage, when I felt like my body was truly betraying me, those old, familiar feelings started to creep their way back into my psyche. Looking in the mirror was like seeing a stranger. Again, I was washed in a feeling of worthlessness. By the time we went on our vacation to Broken Bow, I knew I could not continue feeling this way. My doctor called with lab results before we left, and I told her that I needed to come in.
I went in. I got help. My doctor recommended some support groups, both online and in person, to help me cope with the loss. She also gave me medication to use until my hormones balance out. I've been on the medication for almost two weeks, and I visit the online support group every few days. I am feeling better...slowly. Every day I take a little time to myself to just relax and mentally unwind. Some days that looks like going to the gym or going for a jog, other days I spend time thanking God for my many blessings by listening to worship music, and sometimes it means just being lazy and mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. By putting energy into making myself better, my mindset is improving, and I can enjoy my family.
If you are going through a difficult time, please seek help. Talk to your doctor. Talk to your spouse/significant other. Talk to your friends. There is no shame in asking for help. You cannot pour from an empty cup. Take care of yourself when you need to, so you can take care of your family the rest of the time.
If you live in the DFW area, I suggest you visit the M.E.N.D. website for support.
