I don't mind talking about it, quickly, with close friends who know our situation. But writing about it, to strangers, and having to remember every second and every detail, that's a struggle for me. And something that I have put off, for far too long. My first miscarriage was terrifying, but simple. Weird adjective to describe it, I know. But so simple compared to the next 2, physically 💔
My husband and I had been TTC for several years. Finally, a positive pregnancy test. Beyond excited, thrilled, told everyone. Why would we think anything bad would happen. That's not spoken of, and no way could that happen to us. But it did. There was blood, so much blood, and major stomach cramps. I was teaching at my first school, surrounded by the most adorable kindergarteners, but when I visited the bathroom... well, you all know the rest. I sucked it up and finished my school day. After all, that's what teachers do right?! Put everything personal aside and do our job. Right after work (had to miss a staff mtg and felt incredibly guilty #teacherguilt and also didn't know of a reason to tell my admin because no way was the worst happening) my close friend and co-worker drove me to the ER where my husband, who is a firefighter and was on duty that day, met us. Shout out to his crew for running short for 6 hrs 🙌 while we tackled the ER, the many tests, and eventually the most awful news... "You are having a miscarriage." Those 5 words will unfortunately resonate 3 more times in our ears on our family's journey. This one was a "complete miscarriage" and passed on it's own. The 2 others would be completely, and terrifyingly, different.
My husband is my strength. So calm, so positive, so patient. 3 attributes that are the complete opposite of myself. He was my rock. IS my rock. And I thank the stars above every night that he's mine. Ours.