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My miscarriage

When I suffered my first miscarriage at 8 weeks gestation, I did not know what to think, I did not know where to turn.  So many thoughts rushed through my head… Why did this happen?…How did this happen?…What did I do wrong?…Is there a problem?…How can I fix the problem?  I was so focused on what was wrong that I did not even give myself the chance to grieve the loss of my baby.  My doctor told me it was a “blessing in disguise.”  There was obviously “something wrong” with the baby and “nature was taking its course” in terminating the pregnancy.  I had to suffer the painful experience of returning all the maternity clothes I had just bought. I was thrilled when I learned I was pregnant again, just 7 months later.  I thought, a miscarriage could not possibly happen again.  I had a first ultrasound.  The ultrasound tech said nothing.  The silence was palpable.  I never thought the sound of silence could be so painful.  I knew what was going on, and yet I said nothing.  When I received a phone call from my doctor, who asked me to come into the office as soon as possible, I knew what was coming.  I again had to suffer the painful experience of returning all the maternity clothes I had just repurchased. So what should you say to someone that has suffered a miscarriage?  Please do not say it is a blessing in disguise.  Please do not say there was probably something wrong with the baby.  Please do not say that it is simply nature taking its course.  Please...

My Three Angels

By: Kim Pooler We were so excited to be welcoming a third child into the world. I went to my first doctor appointment and my husband stayed home with our twins. We were full of joy and excitement. The joy and excitement faded with the first ultrasound. The doctor explained that the sack was not perfectly formed and had many dents. She told me because of this it is very unlikely the pregnancy would progress as it is supposed to and it just did not look good. She told me to prep for a miscarriage. I sat in my car and cried and called my husband. I then proceeded to church to pray for our little one. While getting in my car to go home after praying my husband called. He had just called 911. My son had just had his first seizure. (He was later diagnosed with epilepsy.) I was a mess. I called my parents to pick me up in the church parking lot. We meet my husband, son, and daughter at the hospital. A few days later I had another appointment for my peace of mind. The sack miraculously looked better. The doctor congratulated me on the pregnancy. Our hopes and joy were back. Next appointment our baby was gone. No heartbeat was found. I was numb. The blessing was I am a teacher and the miscarriage happened during the summer. Going back in August was difficult. I would sit in my class during recess and lunch and cry. I distanced myself from pretty much everyone. Then in December 2014 I went for a preconception appointment...

Walking To Remember

  On September 9th, 2013 my husband and I walked into the Hospital Emergency Room in California not really knowing what we were walking in to. All we knew was that I needed to be checked by a doctor. The doctor we initially met gave us two goals: one to make sure I was still pregnant and the second goal was to get to 40 weeks. He held his hopes that night a little bit higher than I did. See for me this was my 5th pregnancy and each night as I tucked my two sweet little girls into bed, I was reminded that only two had made it. So that night as I stood next to my husband in the front of the emergency waiting room I heard the words that changed the course of the 24 hours. I had what they thought was a right ectopic pregnancy. This would have been my second ectopic pregnancy and this one would have ended all natural ways of conceiving. What I didn’t know until after the surgery almost 6 hours later was that our sweet baby was stuck on the cusp of what was left of my left tube. It’s not something that is typically seen in non-IVF conception, but it happened and it changed our next 12 months. See, due to the surgery, I had to wait 1 year to allow physical healing. I expected during the next six weeks to go through the grief cycle and I expected myself to move forward quickly, but it didn’t happen. Somewhere in the midst of hearing about the damage done physically,...