Another life came and went. Just as quickly as the excitement set in, the sadness came. Then it was time to say goodbye.
Content Warning: Miscarriage, Early Pregnancy Loss, Grief, Loss
I share this not to provoke sympathy or words of encouragement, but rather to show another side of pregnancy that we don’t get to hear or talk about often. To show that life and death coexist, under every circumstance, whether we acknowledge it or not. That love and loss are one and the same. That there are things we cannot control, and cannot explain, but just are. And that it’s up to us to accept life as it comes, and continue living as best we can.
It was the first time we were actually trying, so were were excited when we got a positive pregnancy test. We were travelling to Hawaii the next week, so it was a whirlwind of emotions. But by the end of our trip, I started spotting. When we got back, we went for an ultrasound and saw a heartbeat, but the embryo was measuring small. We were told to come back in 2 weeks.
We were cautiously optimistic. We called the baby Richstine, partly to be playful, partly to distinguish it from our others, partly to make it all feel real.
A week later, I lost some of my pregnancy symptoms. I was no longer nauseous, my breast were less sore, my gums were less tender. I dreamt that I was pleading with a flight attendant to help me keep my baby alive. The day before the next ultrasound, I dreamt the doctor told me, “She already died.” The next day, the ultrasound showed no heartbeat and no growth.
Two weeks later I miscarried in my bathtub. I was already familiar with the process, and with the setting. I knew what to expect; I knew what to do. This time felt different though, much less pain, much less blood. It all felt so uneventful, at least in comparison to the traumatic birth of Tanaz and miscarriage of our first baby.
We buried the remains under a kalo (taro) plant. Its significance has deep connection to our trip to Hawaii. It was an emotional gesture that ties all our babies together. Rich said some beautiful, powerful words to honor the moment. “This is us bringing life into the world, and sharing it with the universe.”
My grief took a different form with this pregnancy loss. I didn’t want to feel the emotions. I held so much anger, and stuffed it down. I buried myself in work. I avoided thinking about it all for too long. Though we told our family over the phone, I isolated myself from friends, from people. No one knew what happened, what was happening.
I knew I needed help. I started seeing my therapist again. She helped me to express some of my anger, which allowed me to feel less stuck. My acupuncturist helped to heal my body and to release some emotions through movement. I started going out with Rich. I reconnected with a few friends. We went camping last weekend.
It’s only been 3 weeks… I’m still working through things.
Trying to Find My Way 