Ever since we were the size of a poppy seed our parents have had high hopes and dreams for us. While they put their hands on their ever-growing womb, they spoke to us, read to us, played music, and told us who they were. When they find out who you are, they will start to plan college funds, more dreams, outfits, throw showers to provide for you. As time gets closer the excitement grows more intensely. Packing a bag, picking out outfits, getting the car ready. Until that moment when that first cry happens. That first time they hold you, kiss you, and look at you.
This happens for so many people, then there are others who will never know this joy. This is my story of heartbreak, pain, and confusion. Many people wonder why after being married for a few years you don’t have children. They start to wonder if you want to even have children. Most of the time these questions come around the holidays since that is when you see all the family. The answer most of the time to this question is “we are working on it.” However, what they don’t know is that you have been trying your whole marriage. It isn’t easy and you try every day to work past the anger of peeing on a stick and the two lines never appear.
After seven years of working toward bringing home a baby, starting our family, has been a challenge. Constant questions of when to start a family, doctor appointments, bloodwork, ultrasounds, surgeries; these are just a few things that have happened within the last five years. Our journey started years ago with a doctor that kept saying “pray about it and it will happen.” I knew something more was wrong and I was right. Stage four endometriosis was the diagnosis two years later. This was after four months of infertility treatments, that didn’t work. Over that time, life for others were moving forward. Others started on their second or third and we were still trying for our first. The pain and anger grew to a place that only one that has been through this struggle will understand. Seeing someone that was maybe 20 that just met someone a month prior having a baby. Seeing that person on the street doing drugs getting pregnant with no problem. How is it that it is so easy for them, but not for us?
Over those years, we decided to continue our journey to IVF. People think it won’t be too bad, you just have to take a few shots, it won’t be too bad. That is not the case. The process takes up to eight weeks including a month of birth control, so that is another month that you won’t get pregnant when others are. Birth control lasts one month or around 20 days. That part isn’t bad, at least for me it wasn’t. The hard part came when it was time to stim. What people can’t see is every other day doctor appointments, blood work, and ultrasounds. On top of that you must take two or three shots in the stomach to make the follicles grow to a certain size. Two weeks on those will make you crazy, look like you are pregnant, and hormonal. After those two weeks, you get to go through a retrieval process. Sounds as pleasant as it is. Xanax and Dilodid were the only medicine that I received. They will put you on a table spread eagle, numb both side of the cervix, and take a straw like medical tool poke through to where your ovaries are and suck the follicle out. Pleasant, right? After all that you do get to see the whole procedure done on the screen next to you, which is exciting. Then you leave. They will tell you how many follicles there were, how many were fertilized, and how they look. In my case 9 were found, 7 fertilized, and at that time all looked good. Two days later, we were down to 5 embryos at this point and they lasted for 3 days. Since we are using science for this process and most don’t understand what happens when they get pregnant or how lucky they are to do it on their own, when a sperm meets an egg they begin to split again and again. On day three we had an 8 cell embryo and a 10 cell embryo that we transferred back into my womb, along with 2 four cells and a 5 cell that we wanted to freeze. We would later find out the others didn't survive. After transfer the two week wait begins. During that wait I get to take a shot every day in my back with an inch needle. Now do you see where I feel that I have the right to be mad or resentful of those that get pregnant on their own?
We did all of this during the winter and during Christmas. I found out that I was pregnant just a few days before Christmas. Being asked “Are you guys still trying for babies?” “Do you still want kids?” All while no one knew that I was expecting. I knew right away due to the morning sickness that I was having all the time and the extreme tiredness that consumed me. Immediately I was making plans for our little one. I would place my hand on where they were and talk, thinking they could feel my touch. My husband would do the same along with playing music for them. Even if they were only the size of a poppy seed, they were our poppy seeds. We did not know if both embryos took or not. Just a few weeks later, I was again spread eagle on a doctors table looking for our little ones on the ultrasound screen. Seeing instantly there was only one baby with a heartbeat. The tears flooded me with joy and excitement. How could something so small cause so much joy, but after seven years that is what it did. All the dreams for what this little one would be came flooding to my husband and myself. The heartbeat that will ever be imprinted into my mind. My belly grew day by day, to the point where I wasn’t going to be able to hide it much longer. We still talked to our little one, picked out names, wondered if it could even hear us. I would tell it you are another week older just a few dozen more to go and you will get to meet you.
Over the next 11 weeks that happiness grew and grew. Until one day something was wrong. Knowing something wasn’t right, off to the doctor I went. I didn’t think anything would be out of the ordinary, no bleeding, no cramps, sore boobs, a growing waist line, and the dreaded morning sickness were all there. Deep down I kept telling myself these things, but I knew something was wrong. Those four words no one wants to ever hear, were there that day “I’m sorry, no heartbeat.” It took a doctor looking twice and an ultrasound tech to confirm. Looking at the screen you could see the baby had grown so much in just a small amount of time. Arms, legs, head, ears, fingers, and toes were all in place, it just needed to grow. The rest of that conversation was a blur as they were telling me options of what I could do. I remember leaving the office and seeing a lady with five kids and pregnant with another sitting in the waiting room. My pain was evident on my face as I walked out of that room, down the hall, and out the front door, all the way to the truck. That is where I completely broke. Crying, screaming, and phone calls. I tried to call my husband a dozen times, and finally able to talk to him. All I could get out was “I lost the baby.” You could hear the pain in his “what” respond. All hopes, dreams, and plans; out the window. How can you have something one day and not the next. How can I still feel these things, but without my baby? I drove home and started to undress to get into the shower as soon as I got to the door. A place where I felt safest, where I could just be alone. I crawled into bed and cried until nothing was left. I spent the rest of the day in that bed sobbing and sleeping. How could this have happened is all I kept saying.
A miscarriage is different for everyone. Even if the word sounds the same to the general public all are different. The pain from getting pregnant on your own then having a miscarriage. Having a baby, then a miscarriage is different. Having years of infertility, getting pregnant, then having a miscarriage is different. Having a stillbirth, getting pregnant, and having a miscarriage is different. There are so many different variables that can happen, but none are easier than the other. A miscarriage is the loss of something that you never knew could be. A life that never had a chance to live. Only hopes and dreams of the parents. It doesn’t make it hurt any less than any others. We found out that our baby was a boy. A little boy. The dirty, ornery, energetic, kind, and loving little boy. Something had told us from the very start that is what it was. Finding out a baby boy was hard, but not knowing would have been even harder.
I had to carry our little boy for three more days before I had surgery. That means my belly was still big, my pants didn’t fit, my boobs were still producing milk, and I was still having all day sickness. This didn’t stop even after the baby was gone, it continued. The day of my surgery, I had to take two pills to help the process along. Two pills would change my whole world when I would start to have contractions and dilate. IV fluids were given, more blood was taken, and every person asked why I was there. One more hug and kiss to my husband before I was whisked away for a procedure that would make my womb empty. I remember thinking as I was pushed down the hall, this should be happening six months from now, not now. They stopped my bed in the hall waiting for everything to get setup in the room. A young man again asked why I was there, again a sad look in his eyes, but a sterile response was given back. Finally, something to help me relax was given. Ever so thankful before I had to go into a room where I would come out baby less, motherless, empty. As they strapped me down I remember making a joke and then sleep hit. I woke up just a half hour later. That was the pain that hit. That empty feeling, lonely, and longing for something that was for just a short amount of time. A nurse held my hand and said “It’s ok to not be ok.” That stuck with me. I was not ok, I was empty. I longed for a child for so long and in a blink of an eye it was gone. I was taken back to my room where all I wanted to do was cry, be held by my husband, and sleep. Too many things did not make sense. I was broken.
Many ask including myself, what is a mother? Is that me? This pain feels as if I am, but I never got to meet my son other than on a screen. I didn’t get to hold him, touch, him tell him that I loved him, or fix a booboo. I didn’t get to see his first smile, the first steps, falls, or broken heart. I only got to see his heartbeat, and growing body. There was a poem that I saw just the other day written by a woman that had a stillborn and a miscarriage after. Her poem was written about what is a mother and I feel now that it is true.
I thought of you and closed my eyes
And prayed to God today.
I asked what makes a Mother.
And I know I heard him say.
A Mother has a baby
This we know is true.
But God, can you be a Mother
When your baby’s not with you?
Yes, you can He relied
With confidence in His voice
I give many women babies
When they leave is not their choice.
Some I send for a lifetime
And others for a day.
And some I send to fill the womb
But there’s no need to stay.
I just don’t understand this, God
I want my baby here
He took a breath and cleared His throat
And then I saw a tear.
I wish I could show you
What your child is doing today.
If you could see your child smile
With other children and say “We go to earth and
Learn our lessons
Of love and life and fear.
My Mommy loved me SO so much
I got to come straight here.
I feel so lucky to have a Mom
Who had so much love for me
I learned my lesson very quickly
My Mommy set me free.
I miss my Mommy oh so much
But I visit her each day.
When she goes to sleep
On her pillow is where I lay.
I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek
And whisper in her ear
“Mommy don’t be sad today
I’m your baby and I’m here.” SO you see my dear
Sweet one
Your children are OK
Your babies are here in God’s home
And this is where they’ll stay.
They’ll wait for you with me
Until your lesson is through
And on the day that you come home
They’ll be at the gates for you.
So now you see what makes a Mother
It’s a feeling in your heart.
It’s the love you had so much of
Right from the very start.
Now this doesn’t mean that those that have children here on earth don’t love their children just as much, it is just saying that it is a feeling in your heart. Yes, I am a Mother. I may not have my little boy here with me, but he did have a heartbeat, arms, legs, fingers and toes, eyes, and ears. He was mine. I hope that one day he will pick a brother or sister for him to have here on earth with us. People ask me, would you do IVF again. Yes, I would and I am. For hearing that heartbeat of our little boy changed my life forever.
This happens for so many people, then there are others who will never know this joy. This is my story of heartbreak, pain, and confusion. Many people wonder why after being married for a few years you don’t have children. They start to wonder if you want to even have children. Most of the time these questions come around the holidays since that is when you see all the family. The answer most of the time to this question is “we are working on it.” However, what they don’t know is that you have been trying your whole marriage. It isn’t easy and you try every day to work past the anger of peeing on a stick and the two lines never appear.
After seven years of working toward bringing home a baby, starting our family, has been a challenge. Constant questions of when to start a family, doctor appointments, bloodwork, ultrasounds, surgeries; these are just a few things that have happened within the last five years. Our journey started years ago with a doctor that kept saying “pray about it and it will happen.” I knew something more was wrong and I was right. Stage four endometriosis was the diagnosis two years later. This was after four months of infertility treatments, that didn’t work. Over that time, life for others were moving forward. Others started on their second or third and we were still trying for our first. The pain and anger grew to a place that only one that has been through this struggle will understand. Seeing someone that was maybe 20 that just met someone a month prior having a baby. Seeing that person on the street doing drugs getting pregnant with no problem. How is it that it is so easy for them, but not for us?
Over those years, we decided to continue our journey to IVF. People think it won’t be too bad, you just have to take a few shots, it won’t be too bad. That is not the case. The process takes up to eight weeks including a month of birth control, so that is another month that you won’t get pregnant when others are. Birth control lasts one month or around 20 days. That part isn’t bad, at least for me it wasn’t. The hard part came when it was time to stim. What people can’t see is every other day doctor appointments, blood work, and ultrasounds. On top of that you must take two or three shots in the stomach to make the follicles grow to a certain size. Two weeks on those will make you crazy, look like you are pregnant, and hormonal. After those two weeks, you get to go through a retrieval process. Sounds as pleasant as it is. Xanax and Dilodid were the only medicine that I received. They will put you on a table spread eagle, numb both side of the cervix, and take a straw like medical tool poke through to where your ovaries are and suck the follicle out. Pleasant, right? After all that you do get to see the whole procedure done on the screen next to you, which is exciting. Then you leave. They will tell you how many follicles there were, how many were fertilized, and how they look. In my case 9 were found, 7 fertilized, and at that time all looked good. Two days later, we were down to 5 embryos at this point and they lasted for 3 days. Since we are using science for this process and most don’t understand what happens when they get pregnant or how lucky they are to do it on their own, when a sperm meets an egg they begin to split again and again. On day three we had an 8 cell embryo and a 10 cell embryo that we transferred back into my womb, along with 2 four cells and a 5 cell that we wanted to freeze. We would later find out the others didn't survive. After transfer the two week wait begins. During that wait I get to take a shot every day in my back with an inch needle. Now do you see where I feel that I have the right to be mad or resentful of those that get pregnant on their own?
We did all of this during the winter and during Christmas. I found out that I was pregnant just a few days before Christmas. Being asked “Are you guys still trying for babies?” “Do you still want kids?” All while no one knew that I was expecting. I knew right away due to the morning sickness that I was having all the time and the extreme tiredness that consumed me. Immediately I was making plans for our little one. I would place my hand on where they were and talk, thinking they could feel my touch. My husband would do the same along with playing music for them. Even if they were only the size of a poppy seed, they were our poppy seeds. We did not know if both embryos took or not. Just a few weeks later, I was again spread eagle on a doctors table looking for our little ones on the ultrasound screen. Seeing instantly there was only one baby with a heartbeat. The tears flooded me with joy and excitement. How could something so small cause so much joy, but after seven years that is what it did. All the dreams for what this little one would be came flooding to my husband and myself. The heartbeat that will ever be imprinted into my mind. My belly grew day by day, to the point where I wasn’t going to be able to hide it much longer. We still talked to our little one, picked out names, wondered if it could even hear us. I would tell it you are another week older just a few dozen more to go and you will get to meet you.
Over the next 11 weeks that happiness grew and grew. Until one day something was wrong. Knowing something wasn’t right, off to the doctor I went. I didn’t think anything would be out of the ordinary, no bleeding, no cramps, sore boobs, a growing waist line, and the dreaded morning sickness were all there. Deep down I kept telling myself these things, but I knew something was wrong. Those four words no one wants to ever hear, were there that day “I’m sorry, no heartbeat.” It took a doctor looking twice and an ultrasound tech to confirm. Looking at the screen you could see the baby had grown so much in just a small amount of time. Arms, legs, head, ears, fingers, and toes were all in place, it just needed to grow. The rest of that conversation was a blur as they were telling me options of what I could do. I remember leaving the office and seeing a lady with five kids and pregnant with another sitting in the waiting room. My pain was evident on my face as I walked out of that room, down the hall, and out the front door, all the way to the truck. That is where I completely broke. Crying, screaming, and phone calls. I tried to call my husband a dozen times, and finally able to talk to him. All I could get out was “I lost the baby.” You could hear the pain in his “what” respond. All hopes, dreams, and plans; out the window. How can you have something one day and not the next. How can I still feel these things, but without my baby? I drove home and started to undress to get into the shower as soon as I got to the door. A place where I felt safest, where I could just be alone. I crawled into bed and cried until nothing was left. I spent the rest of the day in that bed sobbing and sleeping. How could this have happened is all I kept saying.
A miscarriage is different for everyone. Even if the word sounds the same to the general public all are different. The pain from getting pregnant on your own then having a miscarriage. Having a baby, then a miscarriage is different. Having years of infertility, getting pregnant, then having a miscarriage is different. Having a stillbirth, getting pregnant, and having a miscarriage is different. There are so many different variables that can happen, but none are easier than the other. A miscarriage is the loss of something that you never knew could be. A life that never had a chance to live. Only hopes and dreams of the parents. It doesn’t make it hurt any less than any others. We found out that our baby was a boy. A little boy. The dirty, ornery, energetic, kind, and loving little boy. Something had told us from the very start that is what it was. Finding out a baby boy was hard, but not knowing would have been even harder.
I had to carry our little boy for three more days before I had surgery. That means my belly was still big, my pants didn’t fit, my boobs were still producing milk, and I was still having all day sickness. This didn’t stop even after the baby was gone, it continued. The day of my surgery, I had to take two pills to help the process along. Two pills would change my whole world when I would start to have contractions and dilate. IV fluids were given, more blood was taken, and every person asked why I was there. One more hug and kiss to my husband before I was whisked away for a procedure that would make my womb empty. I remember thinking as I was pushed down the hall, this should be happening six months from now, not now. They stopped my bed in the hall waiting for everything to get setup in the room. A young man again asked why I was there, again a sad look in his eyes, but a sterile response was given back. Finally, something to help me relax was given. Ever so thankful before I had to go into a room where I would come out baby less, motherless, empty. As they strapped me down I remember making a joke and then sleep hit. I woke up just a half hour later. That was the pain that hit. That empty feeling, lonely, and longing for something that was for just a short amount of time. A nurse held my hand and said “It’s ok to not be ok.” That stuck with me. I was not ok, I was empty. I longed for a child for so long and in a blink of an eye it was gone. I was taken back to my room where all I wanted to do was cry, be held by my husband, and sleep. Too many things did not make sense. I was broken.
Many ask including myself, what is a mother? Is that me? This pain feels as if I am, but I never got to meet my son other than on a screen. I didn’t get to hold him, touch, him tell him that I loved him, or fix a booboo. I didn’t get to see his first smile, the first steps, falls, or broken heart. I only got to see his heartbeat, and growing body. There was a poem that I saw just the other day written by a woman that had a stillborn and a miscarriage after. Her poem was written about what is a mother and I feel now that it is true.
I thought of you and closed my eyes
And prayed to God today.
I asked what makes a Mother.
And I know I heard him say.
A Mother has a baby
This we know is true.
But God, can you be a Mother
When your baby’s not with you?
Yes, you can He relied
With confidence in His voice
I give many women babies
When they leave is not their choice.
Some I send for a lifetime
And others for a day.
And some I send to fill the womb
But there’s no need to stay.
I just don’t understand this, God
I want my baby here
He took a breath and cleared His throat
And then I saw a tear.
I wish I could show you
What your child is doing today.
If you could see your child smile
With other children and say “We go to earth and
Learn our lessons
Of love and life and fear.
My Mommy loved me SO so much
I got to come straight here.
I feel so lucky to have a Mom
Who had so much love for me
I learned my lesson very quickly
My Mommy set me free.
I miss my Mommy oh so much
But I visit her each day.
When she goes to sleep
On her pillow is where I lay.
I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek
And whisper in her ear
“Mommy don’t be sad today
I’m your baby and I’m here.” SO you see my dear
Sweet one
Your children are OK
Your babies are here in God’s home
And this is where they’ll stay.
They’ll wait for you with me
Until your lesson is through
And on the day that you come home
They’ll be at the gates for you.
So now you see what makes a Mother
It’s a feeling in your heart.
It’s the love you had so much of
Right from the very start.
Now this doesn’t mean that those that have children here on earth don’t love their children just as much, it is just saying that it is a feeling in your heart. Yes, I am a Mother. I may not have my little boy here with me, but he did have a heartbeat, arms, legs, fingers and toes, eyes, and ears. He was mine. I hope that one day he will pick a brother or sister for him to have here on earth with us. People ask me, would you do IVF again. Yes, I would and I am. For hearing that heartbeat of our little boy changed my life forever.
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