Trent wasn’t supposed to come to our 12 week appointment, so I had asked my mom to come with me. Trent had planned to be gone hunting, however, he started having problems with the transmission in his truck, so he came home early to get it fixed. We didn’t feel it was right to “uninvite” my mom, so she came as well.

While we went back for my appointment, she waited in the waiting room. As we exited, after hearing the worst possible news, we walked past the front desk into the lobby. Holding my breath, trying to keep myself from crying until I left the office, my sweet mom looked at me with a giant smile. Obviously, she had no idea the events that had transpired. I looked at her giant smile, feeling her excitement for the sonogram pictures I knew she was about to demand to see. Instead, my face went from stoic to sobbing in a matter of seconds as I fell into her. I watched as my mom’s face turned from joyful to worried in an instant. I didn’t have to say a word for her to know. She just held me in her arms and apologized.

I can’t imagine my mom not being there and having to figure out how to tell her that we lost the baby. A text or a call simply wouldn’t have been right. But trying to face her in person the next day would have been even more difficult. I know this was absolutely God’s plan. Trent’s truck issues, mom still coming, all of it was planned to make sure I had the support I needed from my husband and my mom, during one of the hardest times of my life.

With the shock still very much present, Trent, my mom and I drove home with 2 hours worth of time to try to process what we just heard the doctor say. It was a very quiet car ride home. The sounds of sniffles and blown noses filled the car. My mind started to race with thoughts trying to justify the miscarriage. We did have a difficult time trying to decide if we wanted kids. Maybe this was a sign we didn’t? But that can’t be true, because the desire to have a baby was at an all time high. From the second I found out I was pregnant we were excited. I felt so much anger. And then because I was angry, I felt guilt for feeling angry! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?! As I mentioned in Chapter 2, we planned to get pregnant in June, July, or August to align with my work schedule. Knowing this was completely derailed as it was now the end of August, I was so unbelievably angry. Knowing this was out of my control, but we had timed it right, and now for nothing. Knowing absolutely nothing could change this, angered me. Yes, we can try to get pregnant again after my first period, but that still wouldn’t be in the timeline we wanted. And we were ready. We were excited. No way we were going to put off starting our family another year to try for that same timeline. I still find myself coming back to the “timeline” piece. Each time my anger resurfaces and I have to remind myself that God’s timing is never wrong.

My body was not miscarrying on its own, which left me with two options. Vaginally take pills to bleed for up to 4 weeks to pass the pregnancy tissue and the baby, (which is said to be very painful and comes with heavy bleeding) or have a D&C (which the doctor classified as surgery). Originally, I picked the “bleed it out” method as it seemed more “natural.” I picked up the pills from the pharmacy and brought them home, still not knowing if this was what I wanted to do. I pictured myself on the bathroom floor sobbing from the physical and emotional pain I thought this option would bring me. I was left with making an impossible decision, and I tried to remind myself that there was no “right” option. It was going to have to be what was right for me. After many conversations with Trent, friends who had experienced both, and many questions to the nurses, I decided the D&C was the best option for me.

September 1st is known in our family as a holiday. Opening day of bow season for elk hunting. Trent’s favorite thing in the world. September 1st will now hold the memory of the day of my D&C. While it may sound strange, I felt comfort knowing that although my baby didn’t have a heartbeat and wouldn’t continue to grow and develop, they were inside me, and I felt comfort knowing I was carrying them and they were still a part of me. Having these feelings and that comfort made the D&C a little more difficult.

On the morning of September 1st, we checked into the doctors office. We didn’t wait long and they brought us to the back. The nurse attempted to get my IV in 4 different times. The first time in my left arm, missed. The second time in my left hand. She got it, stood up, tripped over the line, and ripped it out. The third time in my right hand, missed. Finally, she called in another nurse. The way I saw it, she really only had one option.. my right arm. Thankfully, she was successful and got it the first time. After that, we met with a nurse who asked if we wanted to do another ultrasound before the surgery. She stated some people choose to do it for peace of mind, others find it too emotionally painful. Trent and I looked at one another and we both agreed in body language and non verbal’s that we wanted to do the ultrasound.

She squirted the gel and put the doppler to my belly. There was my little babe. The last time I would see them. The nurse explained what we would be seeing if the baby had a heartbeat. She explained how when you hover over the baby, it should pick up the movement of the heartbeat and show the blood flow. None of that was present, just like our last ultrasound.

The time came for them to take me into the operating room. I kissed Trent goodbye and we parted ways. They wheeled me into a very brightly lit room. It reminded me of a preparation room at a morgue. They instructed me to move onto the table, lay on my back, and put my arms straight out. The anesthesiologist then put the oxygen tubes up my nostrils and told me I should be falling asleep soon. I took a deep breath and woke up in the “recover area” to Trent’s voice and touch on my arm. I was in quite a bit of pain as I came to. I could also feel the uncomfortable sensation of blood coming out of me. (girls you know) I told the nurse I was in pain and she gave me some ibuprofen and left Trent and I while I continued to wake up.

When we left and I was finally coherent, Trent shared with me what I said as I was waking up. Things I had zero recollection of saying. Trent said I first started mumbling, not saying real words or anything that could be understood. My first words that made sense were “I miss my baby. She will always be a part of our family. We have to tell all of her brothers and sister about her.” While I don’t remember this, I know that my little angel girl came to visit me while I was under. How else would I be so confident in saying “she” when talking?

Next, we had an idea in mind to honor our sweet angel after leaving the doctors office. I’ll share that with you next and hopefully it’s an idea I can offer that one of you may find comfort in using as well, if you should ever find yourself in this “place.”

-Kenz