Guest Post Thursday: A Struggle through Pain

I meant to share this story last Wednesday, but my day got away from me (and it didn't post yesterday even though it was scheduled!! Sorry, I'll have to look into that after my vacation!). This is the story of my friend Carrie, and while I love sharing my blog with everyone, there is some slightly more adult content than normal, so I would suggest parents read through it first before letting any children (even teens) read it.

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My story starts out a bit different than most, but I feel my story should be told in its entirety to better understand my journey and who I am today.

 I married my wonderful husband on September 19, 2009. He truly is the love of my life. We saved ourselves for each other and our first time being intimate was on our wedding night. We just had this gorgeous wedding full of family, friends and love and we were excited to end the evening by consummating our marriage. Sadly, that is not what happened. For almost two years of our marriage we struggled with a condition called Vaginismus. Vaginismus is a condition that causes intercourse to be impossible or extremely painful. Not only did this ruin my self esteem as a wife, but trying to conceive children was out of the question due to this condition. We went to several specialist within our area and nothing worked, but seemed to exasperate the condition. I was frustrated with my body, for not doing what God had intended it to do. Finally, in July of 2011, we found a treatment center in New York that offered a wonderful two week program and I am happy to say we are finally cured!

 Six months after we were cured, the recommended wait time per our Vaginismus doctors, we decided to start trying for children. We were ecstatic when I got a positive pregnancy test on our first cycle trying! We were both so happy and finally feeling that our struggle with Vaginismus was worth it. Looking back, we were naive, but quickly told everyone and even announced on facebook when I was just 5 weeks pregnant. A week or two after discovering that I was pregnant, I just felt like something wasn’t right. I was cramping a lot so I called my OB. My first appointment wasn’t until I would be over 10 weeks along, so they went ahead and brought me in for beta blood work. My beta levels were alarming low.

They kept trying to tell me that maybe I wasn’t as far along as I thought, but I knew in my heart that I was most likely going to miscarry. I had an ultrasound shortly after that showed only a 4 week sac, instead of a six week sac that I should have had at that time. I was devastated. For almost two weeks, I endured blood tests and ultrasounds, just waiting for the final outcome. Finally, my body decided to miscarry on its own. Once again, those familiar feelings of frustration returned. Why can’t my body just be normal like everyone else’s? Everyone else seems to have sex and babies like it is no problem, whats wrong with me?

 And all I could think about was my precious baby that I had lost. I felt connected to my little one from the moment I saw the positive test. The overwhelming feeling of loss was unbearable at times. Our wonderful Vaginismus doctors gave me a beautiful pin when I miscarried that said ‘Mizpah’ on it, which is Hebrew for ‘watchtower’. I named my precious baby ‘Mizpah’ after the pin and the bible verse in Genesis that states “The Lord will watch over you and me while we are apart”. I can’t wait to see my precious baby in the future, but I know for now Jesus is holding and taking care of him.

But, I slipped into a deep deep depression. I became extremely angry at God. I blocked everyone out and stopped going to church. I lashed out angrily at my husband and my loved ones. And on top of that, we are having health insurance issues and we no longer have maternity coverage, which further pushed back trying for another baby anytime soon.

I also became angry because people I thought would be there for me weren’t at all. Yet, I had people that I barely knew who came over to see me, gave me gifts, and cleaned my house. It truly was a blessing that even though the people I ‘expected’ to be there for me weren’t, God provided unexpected people to care for me.

I am still working through my emotions. I am not quite as angry, and I am slowly realizing that as much as Vaginismus and having a miscarriage are truly traumatizing and awful- the only thing that makes it worth it is knowing that I can help someone else who has endured the same awful nightmare. I think of the verse in 2 Corinthians “He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.” With that being said if you are personally struggling with Vaginismus, or the aftermath of a miscarriage, feel free to visit my personal blog at http://waitingwamplers.wordpress.com. My contact information is there and I’d love to talk with you.

All of the above is to say, my husband and I have endured trials and we don’t understand the reason why- but even when I don’t believe it, I have to choose to say and believe that God is still good and He is still God. It’s okay to get angry, it’s okay to question Him- but at the end of the day I must trust Him and realize I cannot change that these things happened to me. I must move forward, as difficult as it is- and simply trust.

Guest Post: The long road to a Rainbow Baby...

Today's post was written by a great friend of mine that I have known for almost 2 years. She was one of the first people that I saw get pregnant during my time TTC that I was over the moon happy for, because I knew her story. For those of you who don't know, a rainbow baby is a take-home baby (that survives pregnancy) that comes after a stormy time, like infertility or a loss.

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I am 1 in 4.
I am the face of the silent 1 in 4.
I have been in silent grief for almost 3.5 years.  

Before I go any further, know that I am blessed. I have a beautiful & healthy almost 8 month old daughter. I am unbelievably lucky. While I have a wonderful & healthy little girl to snuggle with every day... daily I also grieve the loss of my first sweet child.

November 2008... 

Carefree & happy we walked into the dr’s office on a Friday morning, excited to get to hear our little one’s heartbeat. About two hours later we walked out....crushed, devastated, heartbroken. The heartbeat we were looking so forward to hearing wasn’t there. With that one doctor’s visit I had lost my innocence & joy about pregnancy. I had experienced the dark side of pregnancy.

Immediately I wanted to know WHY. Why me? Why my baby? Why. What did I do wrong? What could I have done differently? That night while curled up in a ball & sobbing on the bed in the dark I remembered something that happened 4 days before I got the + I had been dreaming of. We had gone to a neighbor friend’s house to hang out. DH had a couple beers & I had 2 glasses of Moscato, my favorite wine. I unknowingly had alcohol while pregnant. In my head that was my why.

I’ve read & have been told all the medical facts on how it was too early for the alcohol to have affected the baby but it doesn’t matter. Don’t bother telling me the alcohol didn’t cause it. What matters to me is that my little one trusted me from day 1 of formation & I betrayed that trust.

I went back to the dr early the next week to get checked out. I had wanted so badly for things to happen “naturally” & without medical intervention but there wasn’t any sign of that happening. I was given the option of trying medication before a D&C so I chose to do that. I thought the medicine would make it less traumatic. I was so naive. That night I crawled in agony into the bathroom, unable to walk due to the cramping, where I stayed for a few hours. Without going into all the gory details will just say that I saw my baby and it is an image that will be forever embedded in my mind. The medication route was not as “less traumatic” as I had hoped it might be.

Having missed a few days of work I went back into the office at the end of that week & immediately ran into a co-worker who said “hey where have you been?” I responded “oh just needed to take a few days off.” He responded “good for you. Did you have a good vacation away from here?” Holding back tears I mumbled that it wasn’t a vacation, I had a miscarriage, & walked off while he stood in silence. 

Quickly realizing that nearly every time I shared my loss with someone I got misguided comments in return, I decided to be extremely selective on who I told in order to “protect” my relationship with that person. The comments weren’t meant to be harmful but each hit me with the force of a thousand stones...

"At least you weren’t that far along”

"Thank goodness you didn’t tell everyone you were pregnant. That would be so hard to deal with.” 

“God must think it’s not your time yet to be a mother.”

“God knows best.”

When my Grandfather had a massive stroke 3 months after my miscarriage my boss said: “Can you imagine still being pregnant while dealing with this? Good thing you only have him to focus on right now.”

December 2010... 

After nearly 2.5 years of trying to have a baby, I randomly woke up very early in the morning & knew I was pregnant. Wide awake I went to the bathroom & took a test - positive!

I beamed at the word “pregnant” on the stick but quickly my excitement was met with anxiety & fear. During the entire pregnancy I stepped into each doctor’s appointment with trepidation. I followed every rule & old wives tale there was. I was even afraid to jinx the pregnancy by filling out the pregnancy journal a friend gave me. I was hopeful & loved the baby that was growing inside me but my positive view of pregnancy had been distorted & I lived in fear that I would be crushed again.   

August 2011... 

I delivered my beautiful little girl. The weeks leading up to the birth were scary...cervix issue, pre-term labor, & pre-eclampsia landed me on bedrest until my dr decided it was time to get the baby out. I was admitted to the hospital for my induction on Wednesday night and endured 2 days of back labor. Friday night I was finally ready to push. Then with every push the baby’s heart rate dropped. Knowing that I really wanted to avoid a c-section the doctor tried the vacuum twice but it was unsuccessful. I was rushed to an emergency c-section. My husband got scrubbed up & in the operating room just as our little girl was born.

All the fear & anxiety I had during the entire pregnancy melted away when she was placed in my husband’s arms & brought to my head so I could see her. She was here. She had made it safely into the world & into our arms. I could breathe again. I am blessed.

Today... 

I have a wonderful daughter. I couldn’t ask for a better baby. I still wonder about the “what ifs.” What if I had been healthier when I got pregnant? What if I didn’t have that wine? What if the heartbeat was missed, were they 1000000% sure? What if my daughter one day asks me or finds out about her lost sibling, how will I respond?? If that baby had lived, would I have my daughter today? What if I had been a better Christian, wife, human? What if?

 Despite all the “what ifs” I know that I have something that others dream of. I have been given the gift that not everyone gets. Because of my loss I realize just how precious my daughter’s life is & how vulnerable a pregnancy can be. I treasure my little girl & take time to snuggle with her every night. The pediatrician says we need to do sleep training... I say if she wants to be rocked to sleep or have an extra cuddle in the middle of the night, I will happily oblige without complaint. I know just how blessed I am. I appreciate the opportunity to cuddle her at night. Because I know what it’s like to lose a child, every little moment with my daughter is a big moment.

I still haven’t had a drop of alcohol since that glass of Moscato.

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If you would like to share your story on my blog, I would love to feature it! Please email me at sarah.myheartsmusings@gmail.com for more information. You never know how many women your story might speak to!

Guest Post Wednesday: A struggle through infertility and loss

  First, let me apologize for not posting yet this week. I've been taking a couple days to spend some time with family and get some work done. I'm heading home today, so I'll be more active in the future!

Today's post is by a sweet friend of mine that I've known for almost 2 years. We've struggled together through trying to get pregnant, and were reunited through the loss support group we're both a part of. Out of respect for her wishes, I will keep her anonymous, but she's an incredible woman that I am blessed to call my friend!!!

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It was Valentine's day 2010, and my husband handed me the Mayo Clinic Pregnancy Guide. His gift this year was letting me know he was finally ready to start trying to have children (I'd been ready a long time ago of course). Now being of the academic sort, I picked up a copy of "Taking Charge of Your Fertility", a basal thermometer, and a bottle of prenatal vitamins. I switched to decaf and started reading. I was going to do this right. I'd always been a regular sort of gal, so I figured six months tops and I'd be pregnant.  

First cycle we tried I was super patient; I was 17 days past ovulation and finally pulled out a home pregnancy test. Shaking, I paced the bathroom and waited. I was so sure since there was no sign of my period that it was going to be positive. Two minutes later there was only one line staring back at me. I waited the full five minutes, nothing. I waited an extra five minutes... Still nothing. I was shocked, I climbed back into bed and snuggled up next to my husband. "Are you pregnant?" he asks.  I barely got the word “no” out before bursting into tears. I had told myself before we started that cycle that I wouldn't cry. My husband reminded me that it would probably take a few cycles. I knew this, but there is nothing logical about being female and trying to get pregnant. I have a PhD in chemistry and even I can't be 100% logical about the process.  

Eleven months and thirteen more cycles later (for a grand total of fourteen break downs. Yup, I cried every time) I went to see my OB/GYN with my tail tucked between my legs.  Everyone tells you it isn't your fault, but it is so hard not to feel like a failure when things don't work.  She sent me down to the lab for some blood work and wrote a script for my husband to get a semen analysis. My FSH was slightly elevated. The lab wanted to see it under 10 and mine was 11. Also, my husband’s count had come back borderline and his motility wasn't great. She was going to refer me to a reproductive endocrinologist (RE).  

What a huge sigh of relief; they had found something wrong. I warned you that there is nothing logical about this process. And if logic flies out the window when you are trying to get pregnant, the crazies come out in full force when you are dealing with infertility. Because that is what happens after one year of trying with no success.  

The RE ordered a second semen analysis and checked a few more things with me. It turns out the FSH wasn't really that big a deal and since my husband's second analysis came back about the same, we were diagnosed with mild male factor issues. So we moved onto to intrauterine insemination (IUI). With 3-4 follicles and 1 million sperm (much lower than expected...turns out his sperm don't like the spin cycle typically used during the prepping process) we did the procedure and waited. The RE told us not to be hopeful, but two weeks later, for the first time ever, there was a second line!! I was finally pregnant and with my one in a million. I had to wait five more days to get a beta draw because I was on a business trip. The results took forever to come, they should have been around 400 by that point, but came back at 48. I knew then, that it was over. The nurse tried to tell me that all would be okay, it was still within acceptable range. But I knew too much. I know what the detection limit of those home pregnancy tests are and that your beta is suppose to double ever 48-72 hours. Sure enough, two days later, it was only 69. I was to come back one more time... the third test confirmed it, 25. I started bleeding the next day.

I cried of course, but I was oddly not as upset as expected. I had finally gotten pregnant after all. It was possible for me to get pregnant. I told myself this was God's way of telling me that I would get pregnant, that he knew I needed to see that it could happen, but this just wasn't the month He wanted it to happen. It wasn't until the 2nd IUI failed completely that the reality of my loss really settled in. I cried harder that time, and harder still when IUI #3 and #4 didn't work. In fact after #4 failed I had such a complete breakdown that my husband and I decided we would try in vitro fertilization (IVF). I had barely made it through the one trigger shot I had to have with each IUI cycle and only the pain of my loss plus all those failed cycles gave me the motivation for the 40 some odd shots I had to deal with for IVF.  

The success rates for IVF are much higher than for IUIs and I was finally hopeful again. Sure enough, after transfer a single blastocyte, I got another positive pregnancy test. The test was so faint though, that I wasn't surprise when the beta result came back low, 20. Two days later it was 10. Loss number two.  

We took a month off and tried a frozen embryo cycle (we were fortunate enough to have five extra embryos frozen, our snow babies). We transferred two and waited. Beta #1 came back 239! I couldn't believe it. The second and third, 383 and 871. Finally! I had a long way to go, but things had never looked so good.  

Two days later, I started bleeding. I called the doctor and explained what was going on. The RE said it was fine; it happens. Call back if the bleeding gets heavier, but what I was experiencing now was no cause for alarm. The next morning it got a little worse. They brought me in for an ultrasound and there were two little sacs. I was pregnant with twins! It was too early to see the actual babies yet, but I left feeling positive. Even with the bleeding, my babies were still there. But two hours after my ultrasound I probably lost one or both. Three days later I had another bought of heavy bleeding. The ultrasound the next morning confirmed it: empty.  

I keep the ultrasound picture of my two little angels by my computer monitor. I look at them every day. That might be closest I get to ever seeing my own biological children.  We have enough frozen embryos for one more frozen embryo cycle, and then we will probably be moving onto adoption. While we wait to do the final transfer, we're having a few more tests run (the doctors start looking for other things once you've had 2-3 losses). So far the doctors can't figure out why we are having such difficulties. The mild male factor should have been corrected with the IUIs and the IVF. It just doesn't make sense.  

So we are still waiting, with empty arms, hoping again that they find something wrong, something we can fix. I am broken inside, from my three losses, from all the stabs to my tummy and my arms, from all the money we've spent trying to get pregnant instead of being able to save for a house. It just doesn't happen for everyone.

Guest Post Wednesday: "My name is Sarah"

Today's post is by a dear friend who helped me through the darkest hours following my miscarriage... I'm honored to have her share her story with you today! (it's worth the long read!!)

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My name is Sarah, and I am one in four.   My name is Sarah, and I am one in four.  My name is Sarah, and I am one in four.  My name is Sarah and I am one in four.

My name is Sarah and I have lost four beautiful children. 

Thinking back to those moments certainly dig up painful feelings, but I want to share my story.  It is my prayer that my words will not return void, but will be a comfort for someone else.  I pray that through my story you will see the kindness of the Lord as he upheld me through each loss.    

“Bless the LORD, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name!”

Psalms 103:1

Early in the fall of 2005, I discovered I was pregnant.  My husband and I had waited for about 5 years before we started “trying”.  Needless to say, I was very much elated when Miss Flo missed her monthly appointment!  I wanted to find a cool way to share this with my husband, so I quickly calculated my due date and then bought a Cleveland Browns outfit that would fit the baby during football season.  I remember feeling so blessed that I was carrying a child.  That day will still live in my memory as one of the best days of my life.   After I shared with my husband, we decided to tell our friends and family almost immediately.  All of a sudden, I saw pregnant ladies everywhere I went and even found out that a friend of mine was due about a week before I was.  She and I went out for (decaf) coffee to bond over our newly discovered pregnancies.  However, unbeknownst to me, my child had already gone to be with the Lord.  

I discovered my loss around week 7 as I had begun to bleed.   My doctor at the time confirmed that I was indeed miscarrying; the baby had only made it to about 6 weeks of life, and began to share with me some facts about miscarriage.  It was at the point I heard the statistic of 1 in 4 pregnancies result in a loss.  I allowed nature to take its course and passed the remains of my pregnancy at home.  To be honest, I have never fully recovered from losing my child.  There are days that I grieve this loss as intensely as the day when I first found out.  Every time I see my friend’s little girl, I am reminded that, had I carried my child to term, he or she would be in first grade probably with a gap-toothed grin and I’d be playing the part of the Tooth Fairy.  Even though losing that child was difficult, I knew the Lord was near to me and laid with me in the darkness as I silently cried over the emptiness I felt.  I chose to bless His holy name. 

“These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold--though your faith is far more precious than mere gold. So when your faith remains strong through many trials, it will bring you much praise and glory and honor on the day when Jesus Christ is revealed to the whole world.”

1^st Peter 1:7

It was in June of 2006 that I discovered I was once again pregnant.  Cautiously elated, I shared the news with my husband and we decided to only tell family and close friends.  But once again I began to bleed.  My heart stopped the minute I saw the evidence that I was, once again, going to lose another child.  I had begun to bleed over the weekend and quietly passed my baby at home yet again.  I was 8 weeks pregnant.  I remember crying out to the Lord in anguish and asking, “Why me?”  The answer was, “Why not you?”  As a Christian, I am not guaranteed that life will go smoothly and be perfect.  I am not guaranteed that I will not experience loss in one way or another.  All I know is that my God is a God of love and that, through my losses, His glory would be shown. 

“For I the LORD your God will hold your right hand, saying to you, Fear not; I will help you.”

Isaiah 41:13

Later that year, in the fall, I discovered, yet again, that I was pregnant.  Shaken by my previous miscarriages, I was understandably nervous.  At this point, I had a new doctor who told me that most miscarriages happen within the first 8 weeks and once we heard or saw a heartbeat, the risk of miscarriage drops dramatically.  I had an ultrasound and we saw my baby’s heartbeat.  Comforted by this fact, I nervously waited for those weeks to fly by until I was out of the “danger zone” and they did.  I can remember the slight panic I would feel every time I went to the bathroom.  What I would see?  I couldn’t help but to wonder if I would find evidence that I was going to lose another child.    However, the Lord saw it fit to bless me with a child and on June 26, 2007, I delivered a healthy baby boy. 

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord.  Plans to prosper you, not to harm you.  Plans to give you hope and a future.”

Jeremiah 29:11

In early October of 2008, I found out that I was with child yet again.  Still feeling the pain of my previous miscarriages, but bolstered by the birth of my son, I was cautiously optimistic about this pregnancy.  However, like in the other two, I began to bleed around week 9.  I started scouring the Internet for stories of women who had bled but went on to deliver healthy babies.  I hung on to every word in every story and prayed that I, too, would be able to add my story to theirs.  I went in for an ultrasound, and took a VHS tape with me, confident that I was not in the process of losing my baby, but was having some bleeding that was “normal”.  As I stared at the screen of wavy grey, white and black lines, I searched eagerly for some sign of life.   I could tell by the face of the technician that the news was not favorable.  She quietly stopped the ultrasound, handed me back my VHS tape and very kindly directed me to wait in the waiting room to see the doctor.   I could not believe it; I had lost another child.  My doctor told me that this child had lived for approximately 8 weeks.  

My soul was crushed.  My heart was in shreds as I listened to his words.  The moment seemed so surreal—to be honest, I had a very hard time believing it was true.  I went home that afternoon and watched the ultrasound tape over and over again wanting so very much to see what the trained ultrasound technician and doctor couldn’t—a sign that my baby was alive.   I grasped onto the stories I read on the Internet of women who had an ultrasound confirm that their child was no longer alive, but then, miraculously delivering a healthy baby.  Due to age of my baby, I was scheduled for a D & C, and even asked upon waking if the doctor was sure my baby was dead.  I screamed and raged at God for quite some time after that.  I was so angry that women who didn’t even care for their children were having babies like rabbits, yet I, had lost my third child.  I didn’t understand the purpose of everything I was going through.  I struggled to understand why the Lord was allowing this to happen to me when He promised to love me. 

It was during this time and through my raging storm that I heard the Lord speak to my soul.  He reminded me of the time when Jesus was walking on water and his disciple, Peter, wanted to walk to him.  Every time Peter took his eyes off the Lord, he began to sink in the waves with the wind threatening to overtake him.  Peter cried out to the Lord to save him, and in typical Jesus fashion, He said, “You of little faith, why do you doubt?”  The Lord knows my future.  He knows my path.  He truly knows what is best.  I chose to cling to this promise instead of push away from the Lord. 

“We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.”

Romans 5:3-5 

A few months later, I conceived another child and thankfully the Lord saw fit to allow me to carry this child to term.  In September of 2009, I gave birth to a beautiful daughter, Isabel.  She is so full of life and radiates love.

“I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world."

John 16.33

In November of 2011, my husband and I were given the gift of pregnancy once more.   We were able to see the heartbeat on the ultrasound around 6 weeks, but little did I know that would be the only time I would see my child on this side of eternity.  My baby died shortly after that, however, my body did not reject the pregnancy until my 10^th week.  As with the last pregnancy, I had a D & C.   While I deeply grieved the loss of this child, much like I did the others, I also had a total feeling of peace that surrounded me.  I knew that the Lord was going to use my story and my life to bring comfort and peace to others.  I knew that the Lord’s glory, love, and peace would be brought to light through my story. 

People often ask me how I did it, how have I survived the loss of four children?  On this side of things, I can answer honestly that I only survived because the Lord carried me through each and every loss.  The Lord wept with me as I wept over each child I would never hold or kiss.    The Lord sat beside me as I raged at Him for putting me through this the first time and then again each subsequent time.  The Lord cried over the breaking of my heart as I cried over the loss of my child.  The Lord never left my side and He will never leave yours.

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You too can share your story!! Send me an email at sarah.myheartsmusings@gmail.com and I can help you get it together!