Dr. K. said it was a chemical pregnancy. That’s the scientific, objective way of saying it was an early miscarriage.
So let’s discuss this.
You take an early pregnancy test. It shows a faint positive. In my case, I got a positive digital pregnancy test eight days after transfer. So you get excited. You go and buy baby clothes, and surprise your husband and family. Then the bleeding starts. You get a decent first beta number, but then the doctor tells you, after your second beta, that the number dropped. He tells you it was a chemical pregnancy.
A chemical pregnancy. Not to be confused as a false positive. Because you were indeed very much pregnant. But it’s a miscarriage, and the only evidence was comparing beta hCG numbers. This miscarriage happened before an ultrasound could show a sac in the uterus. The main symptom of a chemical pregnancy is bleeding right after a positive pregnancy test. Then, as I said above, a beta number that starts decreasing, rather than increasing.
When I was reading about this stuff on the Internet, my stomach clenched up when I read that bleeding right after a positive is the main sign of a chemical. I knew in my heart when I started bleeding and cramping that this was not going to end well. However, I held out hope that what everyone was telling me was true: this may just be early pregnancy bleeding. Because that sounds like a much better outcome, right?
It wasn’t because my body didn’t respond to the meds as it should have. It wasn’t that there was only one normal fertilized embryo. Or that I was teased by positive pregnancy sticks. It wasn’t that I ran out and went crazy like I was going to remain pregnant for the next nine months. It wasn’t because of the alarming amount of blood and cramping. It wasn’t because all that worrying turned to joy at a great first beta number. It wasn’t even the shitty second beta that sucked.
It was that I had to find out our one little embryo wasn’t going to survive and I was miscarrying on our five year wedding anniversary. I mean, seriously? Seriously. Talk about the cosmos giving the world’s biggest finger.
We haven’t even opened our anniversary cards, from each other and my parents. We just can’t seem to bring ourselves to open them. We were supposed to grill some steaks and have a relaxing night at home. Since of course, I was pregnant and all. Instead, we both left work early. I came home first, shocked and numb, after crying my eyes out at work after I got off the phone with the doctor. He came home, held me tearfully while I sobbed into his shoulder. We went to bed and lied there for two hours. No matter how close I pressed against him, I couldn’t get close enough. I wanted to crawl inside his skin, where I didn’t have to see the baby clothes on the table, where there were no pregnancy tests or progesterone suppositories, and the word “miscarriage” did not exist.
How could this have happened? He was supposed to be our little fighter. Our one little miracle, where it didn’t matter that he was the only one. The FRER I took that morning, showed a nice positive line. He was supposed to still be there. How could this have happened?
I started getting texts, Facebook messages, page comments, and blog comments. People telling us how sorry they were. How unfair this all is. How they are praying for our healing. I read them in disbelief. How could I be getting congratulating messages and then 48 hours later, messages saying, “I am so sorry for your loss”?
My loss? No. No. I was pregnant. I was going to have a baby. I bought a little frog outfit. I took pictures of positive pregnancy tests. I told my mom she was going to be a grandma. My sisters—they were going to be aunties. I watched my husband, my soulmate, cry when I told him that he was going to be a daddy. No. There had to be some mistake.
I was bleeding, yes, but it didn’t seem like it was a period. I had some cramps, but they didn’t feel like usual cramps. My breasts felt a little fuller. I had morning headaches. I had some weird stomach sensitivity. I was pregnant.
I had someone tell me that it was too early to be celebrating. That it was a mistake to buy those clothes, to tell my family. Hearing that made the grief worse. To know that someone thought I was jumping the gun, that I should be careful because it was too early.
I don’t regret what happened. I don’t regret buying those clothes, for telling people I was pregnant, for surprising my family. Because unlike this particular person, I am well aware that nothing in life, especially a positive pregnancy test, is a guarantee. I am well aware of the fact that, like this person, there are some who assume two pink lines means nine months of pregnancy and safe delivery of a healthy baby.
I have grieved for friends and family who miscarried at eight weeks, at twelve weeks, at twenty-two weeks. Whose babies were born sleeping. Whose babies were born and lived for just a few hours. It doesn’t matter that I miscarried at four weeks. It was still a miscarriage. It wouldn’t matter if I went another few weeks and ended up with the same results. It still hurts. It’s still my baby. So I don’t regret anything. It wasn’t too early. It’s never too early to be overjoyed at a pregnancy.
What is hard, however, is now having to go back and tell everyone that I am no longer pregnant. I understand people’s need to wait until the first trimester is over to share the news. I also understand my reproductive life is under constant public viewing. And I don’t regret that. But talking about it, about my baby, about this loss, is not something I can do. Blogging has always been very therapeutic for me. Writing this post, though not something I wanted to write in the first place, helps get my emotions out. Many don’t talk about their miscarriages. I know why. It’s painful. It hurts in ways one could ever imagine. To those who are close to me, know that I love you, but know that I may not be able to talk about it. I know this blog is here for my grief, and this is the place where you can go to see how I’m doing. But I just can’t talk about it.
Thank you for the comfort you guys have shown us. For being there. For telling me your own stories of heartache and loss. Know that I grieve your losses too.
Yesterday, I wrote a letter to my little one. But I just feel like I need to do something else to keep my baby alive in my heart. I don’t know what. But I want to honor him/her. Baby loss mamas, and anyone else with creativity, do you have any ideas?
Aw Hun! My heart goes out to you. I had two chemical pregnancies and agree with every one of your words. I grieved for those babies like anyone would after losing them. Sending many thoughts your way.
I went through a miscarriage last spring and it sucks, for lack of a better word – some people say things they think will help because they don't know what to say, and it hurts. I am a firm believer that a baby is a baby regardless of what "medicine" classifies him or her as based on gestational age. I had hopes, dreams, and love for that child from the moment we decided to try for a baby…and you are absolutely right it is NEVER to early to celebrate something so wonderful, and it's never too early to grieve.
I wrote a letter to my little 8w6d angel, I blogged about the experience because I couldn't find the courage to actually speak the words that were swimming in my head, I picked out a gender neutral name because I felt awful (my husband doesn't even know I did that,) and I have his/her u/s picture in my scrapbook room…down the road I will get a ring with birthstones of my kids and include December's stone for my due date month. My aunt gave me a statue of an angel holding a little baby that I have up in my living room, it reminds me that one day I will get to know my child, and in the meantime they are safe and cared for.
I loved your last post, the letter you wrote, and how you kept saying "Jesus needed you more." It's such a powerful and selfless statement, at a time where you so badly want to be selfish. You are such a strong woman, Risa.
I hated the term chemical pregnancy. I don't discount the immense amount of pain that a miscarriage would bring after an ultrasound… I'll even agree that it would probably hurt more/take longer to get over, etc the longer the pregnancy goes on, but the term chemical pregnancy makes it seem like it wasn't real, like it's pregnancy in numbers only. But the truth is that there was a living, growing, baby inside of you and you loved him from the moment you knew of his existence, and now he's gone. AND IT SUCKS! I'm so sorry Risa, it's a terrible place to be. Thinking of you!
I got tears in my eyes reading this. Can I just say thank you for writing it? I keep feeling guilt for mourning my early loss. I hate the term "chemical pregnancy," because it sounds like it wasn't a real pregnancy. Like I was pregnant with a chemical, not a life. But it was a life. My husband and I made a life. You and your husband made a life. We lost that life, but no one can ever say we didn't make or that we didn't have it for those few precious moments. Don't ever regret buying those clothes. Buying the pair of footie pajamas I got to surprise my husband was the only thing I ever got to buy my would-be first baby. And I'll never, never regret doing that for her.
Thank you for writing this post and talking honestly about what it feels like to go through an early loss. Thank you for not belittling it.
I am here for you if you want to talk.
I feel the same way. I was pregnant long enough to write one journal entry to my baby and one good-bye entry. I think I am going to buy another lilac bush and plant the letter under the tree roots. This was the greatest and the worst thing I went through. I was pregnant. I WAS pregnant and it was bliss. I am so sorry Risa. I get it but no two situations are the same. Losses are all different. I am so sorry.
My due date would be in 6 days… I miss my baby everyday, It hurts to see other women pregnant and so happy. And how easy it seems for a lot of those women to be pregnant and have a healthy baby. Im jealous, ill always be jealous and envious. There bad words but they are what I am even 6 months later.
My husband was always convinced we were having a boy and his name was Colt. He named him Colt the day I told him we were finally expecting. We keep his ultrasound up. He was our baby and I never want to loose sight of that. Its painful to look at daily but it brings me comfort.
I got an angel necklace that I never take off and that is where he will always stay. Close to my heart and close to me.
We grieve in our own way… I hope u find yours.
To answer your question: there are many options. Some write it out, creating poetry or writing about how this is impacting them. Some create a scrapbook with those first photos. Some plant trees or build gardens (MissC did this and include others to be honored with her angels). Others put together playlists or compose songs. For me, it was jewelry. After my second miscarriage I had a locket that I wore daily. Prior to this last cycle Grey bought me a pendant to honor all our embryos and I still wear it daily. Do what speaks to you and Chris. There's no right answer for honoring your angel other than the one that feels best to you.
I also want to address the comment about you celebrating too early. Isn't it funny how people caution others not to do so as if it will make the pain any less? Look, after all you've been through this cycle and with your family being very well aware of what was happening, I would have been surprised if they weren't celebrating the initial good news with you. Besides, stealing yourself would not have made the pain any less. So ignore the "advice" and don't ever apologize for those 48 hrs where you felt joy and embraced this pregnancy.
Keeping you close in my heart, lady.
I've never been pregnant or had a loss, but I've read some wonderful things that other baby loss moms have done to commemorate their little ones. Things like a small memory book, with some pics of your embryo and your BFP and something you bought them. Or a painting that you could do yourself, and keep in a special place in your house. Or planting a tree. I'm so sorry and wish this wasn't happening to you.
Risa- you should never have had to write this post either. Please know that there are no words to ease the pain of your loss but I will continue to pray for peace and comfort to embrace you. My heart aches for you both and your families as well. I have never suffered a loss but I like the idea of a tree or bush- something that will blossom this time of year. A beautiful tribute and memory to blasty. I'm sure there really isn't anything we can do other than pray and hold you in our thoughts, but I am sure I am not alone in saying if there is ANYTHING we can do please tell us.
All I can say is I love you and I am here for you. Always.
Thinking of you!!
I am so very sorry. Like Cristy, I have honored the babies I have lost with jewelry. I wear a chain with 4 Pand.ora charms on it. I like being able to have something to touch when I am thinking of the babies I lost. *hugs*
You're absolutely right. It doesn't matter that you were only 4 weeks. You should have been celebrating. I had my miscarriage at 5 weeks, and we hadn't told anyone. I regretted that so much. Because then it didn't feel as real. And because I still needed people to know what I was going through, so I had to say to my parents, "I was pregnant but then I miscarried and now I need you." I think you made a good choice. But, friend, I am so so sorry that you're going through this. It's awful.
if you will be in your house for quite some time, you may plant a tree. or release a balloon into the sky at your favorite spot with dear hubby.
im so sorry darling. i hope your angel babe visits you again with another bfp in the future.
I think that was the most devastating thing for me. I held on to my pee sticks, because I had nothing else to remember them by. I plan to get a tattoo in remembrance for each and everyone of them. I wanted something permanent that I could always have, I guess because I felt like it wasn't fair that my happiness and my baby wasn't permanent. I felt like a piece of me had been stolen, so I wanted something that couldn't be taken from me. I also felt horrible, because the first and second time, I told all the family, so I personally felt like I had let them all down. Thinking of you….
Miscarriage is miscarriage, no matter how early. Screw the term "chemical pregnancy." You were pregnant and excited and justifiably so. I'm glad that you celebrated it, because it was worthy of celebration, and you absolutely deserved to feel that indescribable happiness.
When we miscarried the twins my sister bought me a pretty decorative plaque with a heart on it, and I put it on a bookshelf in the living room so I could see it every day. It kind of makes me feel better to keep that physical representation around so I know I'll never skip a day of remembering them. I contemplated a tattoo but I'm not sure of the placement, so I'm waiting. You'll find the perfect commemoration.
Hugs to you, and thanks for your comment. I hate that we're both going through this right now. Just remember you're stronger than you can possibly know. Hold tight to that amazing hubby of yours and know that this is not the end of your story.
I love that fact that you celebrated right away, I think too few of us do. We want the dream of our fertile friends, one day noticed a late period, POAS, see two lines and go on to have a normal pregnancy and healthy baby. What does IF have to alter this from us too? I buried my products, in my line of work I deal with them a lot, so I had to do something different with my own and I'll visit the spot on my would be due date. I second the idea of planting something, if you don't mind I have some herbs that are due to be re-potted and I would like to do so in your baby's memory.
I've lost babies at 4 weeks (chemical pregnancy), 9 weeks (miscarriage),and 21 weeks (stillbirth). I'm here to tell you that each one of those babies I've grieved fiercely. I love them every bit as much as my children that are here with me alive today. You go right ahead and celebrate your baby! Be glad that you got to make those announcements! Your baby deserves as much love and recognition as you can give him or her :).
xoxox
I had two IVF chemical pregnancies (both at 6 weeks) and I know how heartbreaking this is for you. The things I've learned is that it is your body, only you have the right to feel how you feel. You want to celebrate after seeing the two lines? Go ahead. You've earned that right. You want to grieve for your loss? No one should stop you for doing that. A loss is a loss, be it a chemical pregnancy at 6 weeks or a miscarriage at 10 weeks. And if anybody says otherwise, well, screw them. That said, I'm sending loads of virtual bear hugs your way.
We lose so much from this infertility experience, and I think it's great that you celebrated your pregnancy. We shouldn't have to give up the joy of experiencing a positive pregnancy test.
For my loss, like others, I got a piece of jewelry – a ring of interlocking forget-me-not flowers that I wear every day. I feel like it will be my bean's way of giving me courage and luck for the next cycle. Again, I'm so sorry for your loss.
How anyone can presume to tell you how you should or should not act regarding your own body..
I agree that we celebrate too little. Telling people is hard, but not telling them, not getting to celebrate, and then being alone in your pain? I think that would be worse, at least for me.
Thanks, dear. And I'm sorry about yours as well. Maybe our babies are playing together right now?
Kimberly, thank you so much for this. I like the idea of a gender neutral name. I started trying to think of one tonight and it made me sad. It's a powerful thing, giving a name to my baby. I am going to let it just come to me, if it does. Otherwise, I may just call him "Little One." And I love the idea of a ring with his/her due date month. I told that to my husband and I started tearing up. Thanks for those great ideas. <3
Thanks, Amanda. I'm so glad you guys agree, that my baby was really there, even if it was just determined by numbers.
Oh Annie, I'm sorry you had to go through this too. And you're right, it sounds like you were pregnant with a chemical and not a baby. I appreciate your comment so much.
What a beautiful thing to do. I definitely think planting that letter is a wonderful tribute. It reminds me of a burial and I feel like that would bring some closure to it. I'm sorry about your little baby, too. Hugs.
I will be thinking about you this week. You're right. As much as I try to be happy for others, I still see the jealously slip out. I love the idea of giving a name to my baby. And I think the idea of jewelry is something you could keep close to you every day. Take care.
I like the idea of planting a tree. And the jewelry. That's so sweet of your husband to get something for you. I think that has to mean so much to you. And thanks for your encouragement. It makes me feel better that so many others would be celebrating too. <3
I thought of maybe doing like a shadow box thing, where it was a scrapbook, but I could put some other things in there to hang on the way. Thanks for the ideas, dear.
Thanks so much Kasey. I just love this community so much and you guys just are an amazing source of support for me.
<3 I want to come visit you.. and give you a big hug. Thanks for your support.
Thank you 🙂
Oh that's so sweet. Yes, that sounds like a beautiful way to remember your babies. Hugs to you too.
Oh friend, yes, I agree, it would be very difficult going to my parents with that. I guess it's a painful situation no matter who or how many you tell. I was thinking about what you said in here, how not telling didn't make it as real. I can see that. Very much so. As awkward as it is going to be, with everyone knowing, I can hold on to the fact that I DID get my chance to surprise my family. It definitely feels "real" as painful as it is.
Thanks, Sarah. Planting a tree is definitely is good idea, especially since we will be living on our home for years to come. And thank you for your sweet words.
Autumn a tattoo is a great idea. I thought of that too, and then got even more depressed because I feel like the fertility clinic would frown on that if I kept moving forward with treatments. I don't know how that works. Because I have seriously considered it. Thinking of you too, along with your little babies…
I know, it is heartbreaking we both have to be going through this. That plaque sounds beautiful.
This made me cry. You would do that in my baby's memory? I am speechless. I would be honored. Thank you so much, love.
Hillary, first of all, my heart breaks for you going through all that. I wish I could hug you. Thanks so much for your words. I hope my baby is looking down right now, seeing these beautiful comments about him/her's memory.
Thank you dear, and I am sorry for your losses as well.
Oh I like that idea for a necklace. That sounds so pretty. And you have a good point. We lose so much having to go through this, that we should still get to be joyful when we get our BFP. I honestly don't know how this next time around will go. I hope I get to be just as excited, but I know it's not going to be the same.
Anne, yes, I wholeheartedly agree. I think after reading these comments, to keep it a secret would be so much worse.
I have never had a pregnancy to lose…however, I feel like I can sympathize with how you feel like other people belittle your loss. Maybe if it hadn't taken so long to finally get pregnant, maybe if you hadn't spent X amount of time obsessing on how and when you were going to get pregnant, maybe if you hadn't had all the Dr. appointments and had to pour over OPK results, maybe if you hadn't had to take all the drugs and had to get all the blood work, ultrasounds and whatever other hell you have had to put your mind and body through to finally achieve your goal, maybe if you didn't have to go through all the financial stress when other people just get pregnant for free, then maybe it wouldn't be such a blow. Our lives are completely focused on trying to achieve something that most people just have happen to them. After finally accomplishing what you have been yearning for for so long, it's taken from you in a heartbeat. How cruel. How baffling. If I am ever able to get a BFP I will try so, so hard to enjoy the process no matter how scared shitless I will be that it is just for a fleeting moment. When you decide to tell someone about your pregnancy is a completely personal decision! Whoever told you it was too soon to celebrate and tell people really meant to say that it would be too soon if it were them who was pregnant!! As always, take care…
You are welcome here ANYTIME!!! Seriously.
I am so, so sorry for your loss. I just…well, I just get so mad at the universe at times like this. It is all so unfair!
I'm sending you light and strength during this very dark time. Hugs
I truly want to say thank you, Risa, for your honesty, for baring your soul, for loving that life inside you with great fervor, and for celebrating because you and your husband were blessed with this pregnancy.
And I want to thank all those that posted above with such supportive and thoughtful words. Though there are people that may say unkind or insensitive things, there are so many others who will lift you up, encourage you, hold you while you cry, listen without judgment, celebrate with you when you feel like celebrating, and love you through this.
God bless you, your husband, and your sweet "little one".
There are just no words. Know that I'm thinking of you though. xoxo
Hi Friend. My heart just hurts for you. When we lost Lauren, we planted a rose bush in her memory. After we lost the twins, I had a bracelet made that says "I will always carry you in my heart". Here's a picture of it http://markandannfoster.blogspot.com/2012/10/bracelet.html
It honestly has taken me over a year and I'm still not "over" my loss. Here's a few things I've learned along the way…
1.) It is NEVER to early to celebrate.
2.) That was YOUR baby. A part of you, a part of Chris.
3.) Take joy in your baby and celebrate the days you had with him.
4.) Give him a name
5.) Do something to memorialize him. Something in his memory. Aside from the rose bush and bracelet, we let go of balloons on Lauren's due date and on the twin's due date.
6.) Allow yourself time to grieve. Cry the ugly cry as many time as YOU need to. Be angry. Scream. Shout. Kick…or don't. But DO what helps you cope. I took to running for several months and that was therapeutic for me.
7.) Eventually, in your time, talk about it. Talking about it and blogging about it took me a LONG time to do. I was in so much pain that I couldn't express what I was feeling. I was depressed, angry, sad, in complete and utter agony. But I saw a counselor and once I started to talk about it and truly allow the flood gates to open, I began to heal. The first 4 or 5 sessions I just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed to my counselor, but eventually I was able to talk about it, and for me, that's when the true healing began. There are a lot of wonderful counselors out there who specialize in infertility and miscarriage. For me it helped.
8.) Just know that we are all rallying around you and wish we could take your pain away. You are now unwillingly apart of a sisterhood of women who can relate to your pain. But know, that your pain is like no one else's pain because it's your pain. It's your baby.
9.) and lastly, someone gave me the greatest advice once that I want to pass on to you: "God didn't allow this to happen, but He is here for you BECAUSE it happened".
xoxo
I went through a miscarriage and in many ways my experience mimicked yours. Except we didn't tell. It meant that no one understood why we were always looking sad. OR why we skipped family gatherings for a while. And the story eventually came out. Once in anger at my in-laws who were criticizing me for not being pregnant yet, other times in tears. It was better that your family experienced your joy, and that they celebrated the time that Blasty was here. And that they are able to help you heal. A loss is a loss. I feel the loss of my child every day still. Even with a new life growing inside of me, one that could not exist if the other had survived. I will always mourn the child we lost. Hugs to you as you heal and grieve.
My heart breaks for you, I am so so sorry.
Risa I've experienced 6 early losses. I know that first time I saw those two lines it was indescribable . I didn't for one second think that the pregnancy wouldn't progress. I will be very honest, I look at people now who get the two lines and announce early and it makes me cringe. Only because it reminds me what can happen, but each person should and deserves to be able to celebrate that moment regardless what the outcome. I don't think there is a right or wrong way to handle getting a positive. It is a personal choice for sure and so is the grieving process of your loss.
I'm so sorry that things turned out like this. I HATE the term "chemical pregnancy" and never use it. I've had two early miscarriages– one at 5 weeks and one at 6 weeks. I was devastated. I've never named them (I call them my "little ones") because no name ever seemed right. I was afraid to plant something in their honor for fear it would die. After my second loss, I bought a star from this Etsy shop: http://www.etsy.com/shop/KurtKnudsen
I hung it in my kitchen where the sunlight hits it. I keep it as a reminder of those little lives lost, as well as hope for the baby/babies that I'll have in the future.
I didn't tell anyone about my losses until after they happened. Like lentil said, I hated telling people "I was pregnant and had a miscarriage so now I'm not." Now that I'm pregnant again, I'm trying my best to celebrate every day. Like you said, a loss can happen at any time. Be happy while you have a reason to be, and grieve when you have to. Thinking of you.
I am so, so sorry. My heart breaks for you. I wish there were better words than that, because a loss like this deserves something…more. Thinking of you and your family.
I completely agree. After all you've been through, you deserved to celebrate your joyous news, no matter how short-lived it turned out to be. Yes, it's hard to deliver bad news, but not harder than living that bad news alone. I don't regret sharing with my friends and family right away the first time, even though I had to give them bad news weeks later. I plan to always tell people early, especially my family, who have been so supportive over the years. Lots of love and hugs to you.
We planted a tree at the end of our driveway on Mother's Day. It is there to greet us when we pull in. I chose a Redbud, it has heart shaped leaves. I was about 6 weeks when I miscarried. My due date is in 10 days, July 26th. I personally didn't want to give the baby a name or guess what the gender was. I didn't have a gut feeling. I think that between the two of us, whoever makes it to Heaven first will get to decide (if Jesus hasn't named him or her already!) 🙂 I am praying for you. Your are on my mind and in my heart.
I have never had a pregnancy, although we are constantly trying, so I have no idea what you are going through right now but I just pray for you to celebrate and/or grieve in whatever way you feel is best for you. Seeing all of the love and support here with everyones comments along with your story just brings me to tears. I hope you find just the right way to remember your little one.
I'm so sorry, Risa. Sending you lots of love. *hugs*
I'm so sorry that you have to go through this.
Thinking of you.
You were pregnant, it totally counts. Hey with my chemical (don't you hate that term?) my blood test showed my HCG was already down to 3. They said I wasn't pregnant at all, even though I had multiple obviously positive pregnancy tests. That made me feel horrible, like I had no right to be sad. But you do have a right. *hugs* to you
Oh honey. I've been there. And it hurts. Anyone who tells you you weren't really pregnant can STFU and I'll kick them in the face. This isn't the pain olympics. This is just pain. You have every right to feel your pain. Much love and peace.
LOVE THIS!
<3
I just came here from another blog that linked to your post.
First off, I'm so incredibly sorry for your loss. ((BIG HUGS))
I want to comment on the part of your post where you say that someone told you it was too early to announce. I'm a 2 time loss momma (it kills me just to write that) and with my first pregnancy I waited until the early 2nd trimester to announce that we were expecting twins. We were safe right? Boy was I effing wrong. At 21 weeks I gave birth to my baby girls and watched them die in my hands because my cervix crapped out on me and they were too small to save.
These people who toot smoke out their asses and tell you to wait to announce can shove it. A pregnancy is a pregnancy, whether you're 4 weeks, 14 or 40 it's cause to celebrate. I've learned the hard way that you're really never safe so I'm in the announce as soon as your comfortable camp. This TTC journey and especially the one that comes after loss is so so incredibly difficult why not get support and much needed love from those around you during the process.
Risa, I am so sorry for your loss. Make sure you take care of yourself in every sense of the word. I can't say I know what you're feeling, in terms of that loss, but have had 3 failed frozen embryo transfers, and that loss is difficult, too. Self care is what it is all about right now while your body recovers. My name is Risa, too, and I am in this fertility madness right now as well. I wish you well.
I agree with Jenn – it's never to early to celebrate. It's not as if the pain of losing a baby will be dampened if you don't celebrate its presence. When I got my first BFP after almost 2 years of TTC, my husband and I stared at those two lines, both too afraid to feel happy. In that moment it was clear to me all that infertility takes from us – here I was with the one thing that I had been hoping for and I could manage only a glimmer of hopefulness. Cue weeks of ultrasounds, stubborn betas that refused to double and countless "This doesn't look good"s from the doctors until I finally lost the baby at 6 weeks. Looking back, I wish that I could have enjoyed that short time with her. I wear a thin band of amethysts in her memory (she was due in February). I think of her each time I look down and it brings me peace, even if I'm still grieving.
I'm so sorry for what you're going through. Everyone says that, but it's still true. My first (and only) BFP ended in a missed miscarriage (where you don't know you've miscarried until an ultrasound shows no heartbeat) at 10 weeks. That was two years ago and we haven't been able to get a BFP since, although I'm still hopeful. The loss of a baby at any point in time is terrible, I don't care if it's 4 weeks or 40. It's terrible and horrible and I don't blame you for not being able to talk about it. Know that someday you may be able to, someday you may even want to. It took me a long time to be able to talk about it. I'm still not over it and I'm not sure it's something that person ever really gets over. It changes you, because it's not just about the loss of the baby. It is, but it's also the loss of something else – hope, opportunity, the future that you planned out in your head the moment you saw that BFP. It's the loss of all of that, and you have to let yourself grieve it.
I named my baby Sesame Seed because that's what we'd been calling him or her before we lost him or her. And my mother in law bought us a plant in memory of SS, but inadvertently it was an annual plant so of course that died (that's an attempt at humor but it's the thought that counts and we really did appreciate that plant). So my husband placed eight rocks in a pile where the plant was (because our baby stopped growing at 8 weeks even though we didn't find out until 10). At any rate, I would recommend a perennial if you're going to go the way of a plant.
Everyone has and finds their own way of grieving. Whatever you need, whatever works for you, you'll find it. And you will be happy again. Your baby will be watching over you now. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your husband and your family.
I am so sorry. I have never been pregnant, so I haven't experienced a miscarriage, so I can't completely relate. However, after each of my failed ivf's I bought an African violet.. they each have names and it was my way of honoring my embryos who didn't make it. When they periodically bloom, it's like they're letting me know they're okay and sending love back. Be good to yourself, and thank you for sharing your story with us.
I am so, so sorry for your loss. You have every right to grieve — spend these next few days doing whatever feels right to you. Sending you love.
Here's what helped me after losing Ethan and after our chemical pregnancy. Maybe one of these ideas will speak to you.
http://teachmetobraid.blogspot.com/2012/08/what-helped_8.html
As someone who has had many losses 5 at 4wks, 2 at 6wks, 2 at 10wks (the last after seeing a beautiful heartbeat), I can agree that they are ALL equal. I was extremely happy and hopeful for each and utterly devastated after each (including one overnight stay in a psych unit!). The difference between 4wks and 10wks for me was more time for joy and for fear. I have named our little ones and all the little embies that didn't make it to a pregnancy, because they, too, were alive, if only so briefly.
My heart goes out to you for your loss. Sending you much strength. Thank you for sharing your joy and your grief.
Thanks, dear. Yes, it's a huge blow. I know I can't just BD again in a few months and get pg again. Nope. IVF. All over again.
Thanks, Stacie. It is so unfair, and I am still coming to terms with that.
Thank you so much for this comment. Thank you, thank you. I am so glad I am a part of this wonderful community. <3
Thanks, Aubrey. <3
Wow. This brought me to tears, Ann. I want to use this in my next post. This is beautiful.
I agree. <3. That makes my heart hurt. I wish I could hug you.
<3
I know. I am not sure how I will be next time, but obviously there won't be the same celebrating as the first.
Please feel free. Again I am just so so sorry. I wrote some "tips" to overcoming miscarriage on my blog under "my story". Feel free to use any or all. 🙂 http://markandannfoster.blogspot.com/p/my-story.html
I just found your page. Sadly I have had several "chemical pregnancies", so I well know how it feels. My last one in late summer 2011, was the first time that my husband now(my soulmate) had ever experienced. I sadly, hadn't let myself believe because we hadn't seen a heartbeat on an u/s yet, but he was just like you, ready to tell the world. When the bleeding started and the beta dropped he was devastated. He ordered me these 2 sculptures a few months ago, http://www.etsy.com/listing/95034781/we-were-three-mother-father-and-angel?ref=shop_home_active, and http://www.etsy.com/listing/100547718/go-tell-my-mommy-im-okay-angel-baby-clay?ref=shop_home_active. His birthday is later this month and I have ordered him this as a surprise, http://www.etsy.com/listing/50986522/baby-blue-father-and-baby-angel?ref=shop_home_active&ga;_search_query=father. I just thought that you might be interested in these so you have a tangible reminder of your angel baby. There are no words I can write that will make this any better for you. All I can say is that you and your soulmate have each other and together you will face the future, whatever it brings. It is much worse when you face this alone without the comfort of someone who cares. All best wishes for you for a prolific future. R
I had a chemical pregnancy and I had a miscarriage at 9w,5d. My chemical was with my first IVF. I comforted myself with the knowledge that now we at least knew I COULD get pregnant, something I'd never had before that moment. It still sucks and its painful, but at least you know it's possible. Hugs Risa. I still am thinking about you and praying for you.