Finding God’s Promise through the Pain of Multiple Miscarriages

“i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart). – e.e. cummings

April is my birthday month, but also a reminder of pain that I carried so deep, trying to forget and trying to be strong.  But I am not strong.  I am weak.  2 Corinthians 12:9 says, “‘…My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’  Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”  It was not until I suffered a miscarriage in Italy in April 2013 that would begin to understand what the Apostle Paul meant and begin to find God’s promise for me through my pain.

I have had 3 pregnancies…two ended in miscarriage.  The first pregnancy in August 2012 was completely unexpected and the miscarriage was very early…if I was not so in tune with my body, I probably would not have even known.  I never heard my first baby’s heartbeat, but I was changed.  I don’t know that I can explain to someone who hasn’t been through it how it feels, except that it’s like you didn’t even know you wanted something so badly until you had it and then you lose it.  The second pregnancy was in March 2013.  This was not “planned” but we had decided to “try” to get pregnant after the loss in August.  I stayed sick (not throw up sick, head cold/virus sick) for weeks and prayed every day when I went to the bathroom that I would not see any blood.  On April 8, 2013, my pregnancy was confirmed at Lee OB/GYN.  I bought a baby “bump” book to keep a journal of my pregnancy.  This is what I wrote on April 23:

Today we had the ultrasound done – we got to see you and your little heartbeat!  We thought I was 8 weeks 6 days, but based on the ultrasound, I am only 6 weeks 4 days.  The ultrasound tech said everything looked good.  I was sick all day with a stomach virus and even puked in the garbage can while Dr. Golden was trying to do my physical exam.  Your Daddy came with me to the appointment and we are SO excited that you are healthy!”

Yes, the day of my ultrasound, I woke up with a stomach virus.  I could not stop puking.  I thought it might be “morning sickness”.  That was a Tuesday.  Thursday, I drove to Birmingham to meet my dad, stepmom, and stepbrother to fly to Italy to visit my stepsister.  We got to Italy on Friday morning and I was feeling much better.  On Saturday, I started spotting.  I immediately began freaking out – I went into a total panic.  My stepsister is a doctor and she reassured me that spotting can be normal.  I tried to relax, but I was freaking out.  The next day we had to get up very early to catch a train for our excursion to Florence, Pisa, and Cinque Terre.  I felt like crap that morning–I was still cramping and spotting.  I was so worried and I just sat quietly and prayed the whole train ride.  We made it to Florence and were eating in the pizza place where the Jersey Shore cast worked while they lived in Italy.  This was one of a few places you did not have to pay to use the restroom, so I took the opportunity.  I wiped…and I prayed.  When I looked down, my heart sank and tears welled in my eyes–there was A LOT of blood.  I didn’t know what to do.  I bought some sanitary pads and put on a brave face.  Finally, when we arrived in Cinque Terre, I broke down.  We found a hospital in La Spezia, a town close by that had ultrasound technology.  Thank goodness that my stepsister was living and working in Italy and had the connections to get us to a hospital.  Thankfully, I was able to talk to a young man in green scrubs who spoke English!  He was able to do an ultrasound and told me he saw the gestational sac and baby, but there was no heartbeat.  I was numb.  Another miscarriage.  Another loss.  I was told I had to stay overnight and that it was best for everything to “pass naturally.”  I asked if my family could stay.  I was told it was up to the midwife (who did NOT speak English) and she quickly said “impossible!” (except it sounded like im-poss-ee-blay, which I knew meant “no way!”).  Dejected and numb, I walked out to tell my dad.  I barely had time to say what was happening before the midwife took me by the arm to take me back to wherever I was staying.   I will never forget seeing my stepsister and stepmother standing there crying and feeling my dad not want to let go of me as that woman drug me off.  I was given no medication.  The room had no tv, no air conditioner, no books, no wi-fi.  They asked me where my “gown” was – umm…don’t you guys provide one (apparently they don’t).  I was in and out of the bathroom all night.  I could not stop thinking that my baby had come out of me and was in a toilet in La Spezia, Italy.  I questioned God all night – why would he let this happen to me twice?  Why would he let this happen in a far away place where I was alone, didn’t speak the language, and was scared?  Why didn’t he answer my prayers?  Why did he take our baby?  Then I began to blame myself.  I shouldn’t have come to Italy.  I should have drank more water.  I should have lost more weight.  I was completely irrational.  I barely slept.  Long story short–in the morning, I thought maybe I was going to get to leave…but found out they wanted me to have a D&C.  They wanted me to sign what I suppose was a consent form (written completely in Italian) and they wanted to know my weight…in kilos.  I remember thinking this is how I was going to die…in a concrete building in La Spezia, Italy.  

But I survived.  Not just the simple D&C procedure, but all the days and moments that felt like years after it.  The moment when I went to see a specialist to figure out why I had two miscarriages and learned that both my husband are genetic freaks and that I have Mosaic Turner Syndrome and he has Mosaic XYY and that combined, our “superpower” is that we are more than 40% likely to have a miscarriage or a child with abnormalities.  The moment that my specialist told me that if I was her sister, she would advise me to do IVF with donor eggs.  The procedures I went through, based on the recommendations of my specialist.  The talk my husband and I had about adoption as an option.  Crying at a mediation to a male attorney because I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.  I can look back and remember my pain so clearly, both physical and emotional.  Through this pain, I had to let go and trust God’s will for my life.  It took so much prayer and a complete willingness to let go of things I cannot control.  And then…I got pregnant.  With my son, who is perfect and handsome and smart and healthy.  

So when someone asks how many children I have, I say one (because, well, it’s complicated)…but my heart knows there are three.  My heart carries their hearts with me. 

April 21-27 is National Infertility Awareness Week.  I am sharing my struggles not only to raise awareness (did you know 1 in 8 women are affected by infertility?) but to share my testimony of God’s faithfulness and fulfillment of His promise.  If you are suffering, know that you are not alone and you do not have to carry your pain by yourself.  Here are some great sites with lots of information and resources:

https://infertilityawareness.org/ 

https://resolve.org/infertility-101/what-is-infertility/fast-facts/