Dec 26, 2016

We Lost Our Baby

At 10 weeks, 3 days, I miscarried.
About an hour or so after I published my 10 week bumpdate photo, we watched our baby slip through our fingers.

Christmas Eve was wonderful. Surrounded by family, Mark and I opened presents for the baby.
We laughed and talked about the future.
As the night progressed, I started to get a bit of lower back ache.
This had happened briefly the day before, so I just assumed I had been on my feet too long and needed rest.

The lower back ache slowly crept to the front of my stomach, but by the time I went to bed that evening, it had all but subsided.

Christmas day was much of the same. I had mild, ongoing cramping along with lower back pain.
I'll just take it easy, I thought.

The uncomfortable sensation kept up during dinner with my parents, and for the first time, I suspected something was off.

That evening, just after midnight, the aching had become so abundant that I could barely move.
I stood up and felt wet.
I hobbled to the bathroom and realized there was brown blood.
Old blood is good blood...I kept repeating.
Until it wasn't.
Another trip to the bathroom confirmed the first bout of bright red blood.
I nearly passed out at the sight.
The waves of pain and nausea mimicked that of when I had to take Misoprostol, to mimic labor pains.

I took some Tylenol and prayed to keep our baby safe.
A couple hours later, the pain had passed, and so had much of the bleeding, and I finally fell asleep.

This morning, I met up with a lovely younger couple and eagerly handed over the remainder of my IVF medication, as they were paying out of pocket.

In exchange, we were given a most generous present of yet more baby clothes, each one cuter than the last.

And the entire time I chatted with them, I could feel the pain returning.

I laid on the couch with the dog, wrapped up my bumpdate post, and Mark walked through the door.

I'm so glad you're home, I smiled at him.

I hit publish on the blog post, and was immediately flooded with texts of concern, at the mention of my cramping.

I'm ok, really. This stuff happens all the time. We're taking it easy....I responded.

I headed upstairs to lay down.

The cramping became extremely intense when I laid on my left side, like almost immediately.
It had this weird popping sensation.
I slowly rolled over to the other side but still couldn't get comfortable.

The next 20 minutes were spent rushing between the bathroom and my bed.
Every time I wiped, more blood, brighter blood.

Then a small clot.
Mark and I examined it.
It's small...I think that's just leftover because it's dark looking.
I agree.

Back and forth.
A few minutes later, I watched something much larger fall.

Oh my God....MARK!!!! Baby, I think it's the baby.
I plunged my hand into the was.
I went ghostly white.

Our beautiful baby.
No bigger than my thumb....sitting in the palm of my hand.

It was over.
My doctor was on call and I spoke with him about the miscarriage.
We wrapped him up and drove down the road to his office, where upon arrival, I passed the placenta.

Mark was a mess, puking and generally ill.
I stared off into the distance.

The doctor chatted with us for a bit then gave me an exam.
Luckily, no D&C is needed.

Everything was said and done, nearly as cleanly as possible, within the hour.

So, we are home.
I will be taking bereavement this week.
We need rest.

This year has been one big fuck-you, and this most definitely is the icing on the cake.
It's weird.....making life plans...and then having them stolen from you in a matter of minutes.

I know Mark and I will be fine.
I know we are strong together.
We know we could use a break....a different perspective.

Life will sure be different, knowing we will never be parents.
We poured our everything into making this happen...we have tried and failed to be parents for five years.
And now it's over.
We absolutely have no regrets.
But this chapter will be closing.

Life moves on, and we need to keep up.
We don't believe it's healthy to continue to make the sad times and struggle the norm.
We married each other, not for our parenting skills, but because we are soul mates.

And we will continue to love and honor each other.
Perhaps we'll travel more....maybe adopt more dogs.....maybe retire early.
Whatever it is...we'll do it together.

Thank you, for your continued support.
For your love and gifts and kind words, especially in the droves of IVF this year.
We were not expecting this....but we will get through it.

I may be a little social media shy in the near future, but know we are healing as the minutes pass.
Thank you for reading. XO


  1. Tears are streaming down my face for you and Mark, Tia. I am so sorry that this happened to you. If there is anything I can do for you, please know I am only one town over and a text away. Hugs my friend!

  2. Words can not express how terribly sorry I am. You both are in my prayers. Hugs to you.

  3. I am so so sorry, Tia. I wished there was something I could say to help. I've been there with early ones and late ones and the only thing I have learned is hug each other and don't let go and remember there are people thinking of you.

  4. I am so sorry friend. There are no words of comfort that can be shared that make this situation any better or easier. All you two can do is be there for each other & support each other through this very difficult time. Thinking of you.

  5. I am heartbroken for you guys. You are in my prayers. It makes no sense why this shit happens- Josh and I know this pain all of too well. I am so very sorry. Rest. Cry. We are all here for you guys. :(

  6. Oh girl, I read your bumpdate and that is exactly how it happened to me too. I don't really know what to say but I am thinking of you and Mark. I am so very sorry, I wish I could put my arms around you and give you a big hug. I would bring wine and cry with you. Hang in there honey. Hugs...

  7. Sending you so much love! I have read your blog for years.

  8. I read this 3 hours ago and I am still just heartsick and sick to my stomach over it. I've been through it multiple times and I still don't even know what to say. I tried to pray and didn't even know how. It seems weird to give advice for such a personal experience but it's what I have to offer. Hold tight to each other and be each other's biggest supporters. Don't rush each other's healing, and fiercely protect each other from the dumb things people WILL say to you and in front of you. Don't be afraid to RSVP no to absolutely anything you don't wanna do for as long as you want to. Don't rush yourself either. Don't be surprised if you're in shock right now and think you're healing only to be set back even further when it hits you again like a wave...maybe multiple times. Whatever your feeling is normal and okay, and don't let anyone tell you different. You will feel lonely. Find women who understand. Me, others you've met from blogland, I can send you a great support babycenter support group, a local support group. Just find people who have been there. Try to find a guy who has been through it that Mark can talk to because it's a different experience for the men. Completely spoil yourself rotten right now. Don't be in a rush to get back to business as usual. This isn't normal or okay and shouldn't happen and it's okay for your life to reflect that right now. Mostly, just remember that you will be okay, even if you don't feel okay or it takes longer than you expect to be okay.

  9. I am so sorry for your loss. You really and truly did put everything into this and really and truly is not fair that it didn't work out. Take all the time you need to recoup and recover.