I am 1 in 4.

 ***This post discusses miscarriage, pregnancy, and potential TMIs***

    I am one of the 1 in 4. Though it seems like a lifetime ago, I joined a club that isn’t really exclusive, yet many times, it’s members remain silent, though things are somewhat improving over the last few years.

When I was 20, I got pregnant. That slow motion lean over the stick to see whether there was one line or two, happened to me, alone in the community bathroom of Cline Hall before class on some random Tuesday. I didn’t even really need to look, because I just knew. In the two minutes it took for the test to confirm it though, my life changed forever. 

I was not in a good spot to become a mom. I was finishing up my sophomore year in college, I didn’t have a job, I lived on campus and I was not in a relationship with the father. Not the ideal time to start a family, but from the moment I knew there was life inside of me, I knew it was time to embrace the poor decision making that led me here and grow up. I knew there were other options, but none of those felt right to me. Little did I know at the time, what I wanted wouldn’t end up mattering.

I embraced the turn my life had taken. I started dreaming up names, I bought every. single. thing. that Carter’s had with ducks on it. Within a few weeks, I had accepted that this was the direction my life was going to go and I was going to make the best of it. I had only been to Planned Parenthood to confirm the test, and hadn’t yet made it to an OB. By the end of May, by my own tracking of dates, I was about 9 weeks along. One night, I started bleeding. The next morning, it continued, so my mom took me to the hospital.

I remember sitting there in the waiting room, just praying that everything would be okay. This was not how I had planned my life, but in the few weeks that I had known I was pregnant, I began to love this little life inside of me. My mom came back with me, and once the ultrasound began, it was obvious this was not a normal pregnancy. I just broke down into tears and couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My heart was broken. I had no photos, no ultrasound printouts to grasp onto. I had the hospital paperwork and the duck onesies, stuffies, and that’s it.

Sparing all of the details, things progressed along themselves and after a few follow up appointments, I was medically fine to go about my life. But I didn’t realize how emotionally messed up I was. I spent that summer drinking a lot of cheap vodka and passing out on a friend’s bathroom floor and I engaged in other risky behaviors for the first time (sorry, Mom). I just didn’t want to feel anything anymore. I’m not sure how I survived that summer and I’m not sure what snapped me out of it, but by the time school started in the fall, I was in better shape, though still heartbroken.

I remember sitting down with my next serious boyfriend and spilling all of this out to him on a bench in front of Shirk Hall, pretty early on in our relationship. None of it scared me away, but I know after we were together for a year or so, I probably did frighten him from time to time with all of the talk about how badly I wanted to be a mother. I felt like all of the feelings of despair and love I had after my miscarriage meant that I was destined to be a mom, and I didn’t want to wait forever to do it. He stuck around though.

Besides mourning the loss of a physical baby, miscarriage brings mourning the loss of a future. Who would this kid, or kids, have turned out to be? It’s hard to believe it’s been 17 years. Beyond that, no one told me that I would never have a normal pregnancy in my life. I feel like the innocence of thinking “oh, that can’t happen to me” or the ignorance of knowing the signs, etc. ruined subsequent pregnancies for me. I hate to say “ruined” but it is what it is.

I spotted with both of my boys early on and ended up going to the ER very early with Austin because of my previous miscarriage. I thought that pregnancy was doomed from the start. The worst part was I went to the ER and it was too early to tell if something was up because he didn’t even have a heartbeat yet. We had to wait over TWO WEEKS not knowing if he was okay or not. The best thing ever? Seeing the flicker of his heartbeat on the ultrasound screen. But even then, it doesn’t mean you’re out of the clear. It got bad. When the NY Giants played the Patriots in the Super Bowl in 2012, Eli Manning did something great and I jumped up to celebrate (I hate the Pats and TB 12 so….) and I was convinced I jiggled him loose and cried. Looking back, that’s hilarious, but at the time, I was terrified. It wasn’t until we were on our way home from the hospital with Austin in the car seat that I finally exhaled. 

You would think having a successful pregnancy after a miscarriage would eliminate some of the stress and anxiety. Think again. We were definitely trying for Aiden, so I knew very early on that I was pregnant. And I was terrified. Every appointment, I waited for the other shoe to drop. Every appointment I just knew this was it. Both of my boys were small and they didn’t move a lot until very late in pregnancy. I held my breath again for nine months.

I say all of this to say, if you’ve been through it, you’re not alone. If you feel crazy because you’re worried you’ve jostled your sweet little nugget loose by celebrating a touchdown, it’s okay. You might be slightly crazy, but it’s fine because all of the best of us are when it comes to your kids. The heartbreak hurts still, but it lessens a little bit. I see women supporting women online, I see articles and posts and conversations happening about pregnancy loss, so much more than I saw when I was going through it. I think perhaps there are people who think because I was 20 and not planning for a baby that it didn’t hurt me, but it ripped my world apart and as you can see, there were lasting effects.

I tried taking an approach when I was pregnant with Aiden that worked sometimes (and didn’t work others). I would tell him, “I saw you today (or I felt you, or I heard your heartbeat), so I know for sure you’re okay today and I’m pregnant today. So I will enjoy it and bask in the relief of knowing that.” It worked for awhile, usually until I felt a weird cramp, or got into my own head. But I reminded myself that whatever happened to him, I would always be his Mama, just like I am still the Mama to my angels.

Fly high, Taylor Mackenzie and Micah Jordan (2004)