Life Update... Kinda... I was having a baby.

Life Update…Kinda…

I was having a baby. And then I wasn’t. 

I’ve been struggling to release these words for a couple of weeks now. 

…

I became more serious since I learned that I was growing a whole baby in my body. I figured this was the most adult thing I could ever do, and while I had done so much to set myself up for success as a young professional, I had never stopped to think about what life needed to look like as the provider and guardian of another human. Yes, I have a really good career and yes I just bought a house, but in terms of being the Grown Up in residence at the Fairfield Retreat (my house), I believe myself to be rather immature and not fit for tiny human rearing. So, in an instant, after peeing on a stick, I decided to practice extreme adulting. 

My first conversation with my partner was direct. I regret that now. I could have been softer. It was a delicate moment. But in that moment, I needed him to know that we were officially a family and I was going to need him to be as serious about adulting as I had instantly decided to be. I know I sucked the joy out of the moment, but the truth is I was terrified. I mean, have you seen the news? Have you looked outside? The world is scary and I wanted to do everything I could to protect the existence of our “inevitable” baby. I felt that baby deserved the the most qualified pair of grownups, it could have had. We needed to shed the skin of our overgrown adolescence. And to be honest… it’s mostly me. I needed to finally grow up and my anxiety was on 100 about it. Because at the time, I believed this baby was coming whether I was ready or not and I felt the most responsible thing I could do to ensure success in this new life chapter, was to be an intentional, serious and readied parent. I had lot’s of deep internal processing time and sleepless nights as I tried to figure out what the next 20+ years of my life would look like after I transitioned from independent individual contributor to my own life, to full-time lifetime mommy. My emotions overwhelmed me into silence and I turned inward for a bit. 

If you read this blog you can assess, I’m a planner. It’s how I cope with any extreme emotion. The emotions I was coping with this time around were so over the top that I pivoted between Fight and Flight every minute of the day. Eventually, what felt most comfortable was my fight response, so I thrusted myself from silence into action. Only forward movement soothed me. And since I was nearing my 2nd trimester I felt comfortable taking action. 

For me, action looked like deciding on the week I would share my exciting news, strategizing the tiered unveiling of news to the baby’s village, our family, close friends and then to the world. I agonized over the designs of the cards I would mail to extended family members we loved the most, the choice in messaging I would use (expecting, vs, pregnant, vs having a baby, vs with child). Everything was important. I had even started planning out our Baby’s first Christmas. I decided since we were expecting a December baby, Christmas was going to be the cornerstone celebration of our new family. Advent Calendars. Matching Pajamas, Motown Christmas Carols. ABC family movies. Baked goods from the best bakery I could find, because I don’t bake. But, nevertheless, this baby deserved the works. I had connected to the idea of becoming a Mommy. I had decided to willingly enter this new phase in my life with preparation and grace. 

My partner had been so excited. For weeks, he walked past me and stared at my belly. Our hugs became family hugs, as he now made every effort to hug me at my belly as if to make it a pre-birth group hug kinda thing. Every morning he’d wake up, walk to my side of the bed, and kiss our baby through my belly. It was an awkward dance because he knew I am slightly uncomfortable with so much exposure and focus on my mid-section, but I recognized this was him connecting to our little person and he was building his relationship, as well. 

My preparation, included a soft launch or maybe more of a research period. Despite the tradition of waiting to tell people about a pregnancy until the 2nd semester, I was so eager to make sure I was doing things “the right way”. I was near the end of the first trimester anyway so I figured how much harm could a week or so do? 

I started confiding in a couple of people around me who I valued as parents and care takers. I wanted to know how they made their transition from “Dual/Single Income no Kids” to full blown soccer parents. I wanted to know how they navigated their emotions. I wanted to know what dangers lied ahead, for me, the blind spots. I was most concerned about what navigating the workplace would be like. I even shared with my Boss and HR, because it’s been a crazy time in the industry (regardless of what Ad Age seems to believe) and a top 2 concern for me had been losing my job while balancing a new mortgage and a new baby. I had been a mixed bag of mostly eclectic fears. 

Ironically, the only thing I didn’t fear was not completing my pregnancy. I mean yes, I had miscarried before, but that was in the midst of an extremely shitty relationship and a time when I didn’t have any stability. I charged that loss to my circumstances and rationalized that it wasn’t in God’s plan, and I couldn’t agree with him more. So I had moved on with my life quickly. Even going to a happy hour the evening I left the hospital. I felt strongly, I had so much more life to live and timing wasn’t right. Yet, this time around, I have a super duper loving partner, a stable career, a home with a white fence, a spacious backyard big enough for a pool and swing set, and 12 more years of wisdom than I had before. I felt strongly that even though I was scared, I must be ready, and this was happening. So when my partner and I made our way to the OB-GYN, the only thing I looked forward to was seeing his face when he heard the baby’s heartbeat. 

I had heard the heartbeat once before, during my first doctor’s visit. It was unexpectedly magical and life changing for me. The sound was this strong, fast and gorgeous drumbeat of life. It was as if my baby was showing off to me. LOOK AT WHAT MY HEART CAN DO!!! That’s what I imagined my baby was trying to tell me. All I could say in the sonogram chair was “WOWWW! That’s happening in MY body?!” That Little thing was just LIVING its best strong heartbeat life in me. I was in awe. I became so connected to that little one after that sound, that I was so excited to share it with my other half. So when we walked into the doctor’s office, and she turned the Sonogram machine on, all I could feel was excitement and anticipation. 

The first flag, was when she said “So you were about 6 weeks last time we met right?”. I responded  “No you told me I was a little over 8 weeks”. I was slightly confused. Do doctors sometimes mix up the weeks of pregnancies? She then said “ok well let me get a heartbeat going for you”. The last time it was an instant experience. The sound thingy touched my belly and there was this big big sound. This time while I waited to see my partner’s face change to elation, I realized it was taking longer than the last to get a sound. The doctor was tracing my belly with the sound thingy. Pressing keys on the keyboard and then moving it again. I finally looked at her and she said “I’m having a hard time finding activity”. What seemed like the longest minute later, she finally turned off the machine and delivered the news. “I’m sorry. I can’t find a heartbeat. It looks like the baby stopped growing after your last visit”. My body went numb. My partners face went stoic. We were stunned. We didn’t have questions. Just feelings. 

The doctor recommended we get a second opinion, and directed us to go to a radiology imaging center. We went that day. Same response from that doctor. Same response from us. We were distraught. While there was certainly a baby still inside my body, it had stopped growing shortly after I heard its heartbeat, and eventually ceased to beat its heart again. My body hadn’t recognized this was happening and so yes I was still pregnant, but It was only a matter of time, because I wouldn’t be for much longer. 

As I looked at the prescriptions my doctor had printed out for me for blood work, the radiology imaging, etc… It was stamped with the words Missed Abortion all over. I had a Missed Miscarriage. I’ve spent the better part of the last several weeks planning my baby’s future, but this was the extent of my baby’s life. Heartbroken can’t even describe what I continue to feel today. I had been heartbroken before. I’ve had bad romantic breakups. I’ve ended long friendships. I’ve had close family and friends pass away expectedly and unexpectedly. Those heartbreaks were rooted in disappointment of not having more time to spend with people. Those heartbreaks had silver linings of pictures and memories. But this is different. There are no pictures. There are no memories. Just dreams, intentions and expectations. 

My entire spirit aches right now. My partner and I had built a whole new life in our heads and in our hearts for this baby. We had made space and room and plans in our lives for this baby. We were planning to share the news with a few family members the following day as it would be a joyful moment to share a special secret during our Housewarming for our new home. In the doctor’s office I was thinking about how I would tell my mom. I had already asked her to come by the house early prior to the housewarming. I was spiraling over what words would I use? What’s the perfect way to tell her? Yet within an instant, all of that had disappeared. 

I have a lot of guilt now. Did I do too much before I took the pregnancy test? Is it my age? Is my career stressing me out? Could I have done something different? My doctor, my therapist and every website says no. They all say this just happens, sometimes. But I don’t think I’m there yet to accept that. Soon I’m sure. For now, I write this with the intention to help me process the fact that I was having a baby, but now Im not. So far, I have very few learnings from this experience. It’s too early and I am sure more will come as I continue to process. So far, one is that I do want to be a mom. Before I was expecting, it was on the table but not a first choice in experience. Today it’s the dream. The other is that I have very little control over the future. I had no say in this moment of my life that I am aware of. And while I feel like this is all happening to me, I do wonder if this is happening for me in some spiritual foreshadowing to a bright future of modern domestic mommy hood bliss. But I can’t say for sure yet. I do believe there will be more learnings to come. I do have a lot of questions though. In fact I have more questions than guilt, and more guilt than silver lining.

I do wish more women talked about their experiences with fertility and reproduction challenges, though. The statistics say that 10-20% of women experience miscarriage. That felt like such a small number that surely it wouldn’t include me and yet here we are. It’s like I’ve entered into a secret sorority of women I’ve known all my life who can only now share their stories with me because we share this trauma. So many other women have had this experience and these fears and anxieties, but for some reason we’ve done such a great job masking Motherhood in a rose colored veil. It’s not easy to get to that hood and as many have shared with me, it’s not always easy to be in that hood either. I guess that’s why midway of writing this I decided to share my experience. I wish I knew more ahead of time. I don’t think it would have changed much but I find comfort in information. Hence my recent Tik Tok, YouTube and mommy blog searches. I’m grasping for spaces of comfort and information where I can get it.

Everyone says just try again and we will. But if Im honest those words aren’t helping just yet. Reasoning and rationale aren’t actually helpful at all right now. Because reasonably and rationally, I should be announcing my pregnancy. But God, the Universe, or whatever else we want to attribute it to, saw things differently. And so while I am praying for a Rainbow after this storm, this is where I am for the time being. 

I just needed to write it out out loud and let it be real.