Pregnancy Loss

Dealing with a miscarriage can be devastating. While many may pass off a miscarriage as a pregnancy that "just wasn't meant to be", these words rarely help to relieve your grief. Although a miscarriage can be an isolating experience, it doesn't have to be. Women who are or who have previously dealt with a miscarriage are often a great resource to those currently suffering from a pregnancy loss. Share your words with us and share your support with other women.

It is best to avoid using stimulants during pregnancy. Amphetamines and dextroamphetamines are powerful drugs and when taken during pregnancy, they can cause miscarriage, early labor or birth defects. You may want to ask other women if they have had personal experience with this.


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Natalya


I was 39 3/4 weeks pregnant. We knew we were having a beautiful little girl. This was my first pregnancy and my husband I were very excited. Her room was ready with a closet full of dresses. I was at a regular visit to the midwife when she couldn't find a heart beat, and I was sent for a ultrasound.

I asked the ultrasound tech if there was a heartbeat and I could tell from the look on her face that the answer was no. That was it in an moment. All my hopes and dreams for my little girl were gone.

After I delivered my daughter Natalya, I held her. She was perfect - not one thing wrong. She looked as though she was sleeping. I was told later it was a placenta abruption. I felt so robbed as she was perfect! There were no signs telling me she was in trouble. I want to get pregnant again so badly, but I am scared. What if it happens again?

jina woodruff






An Empty Place

I have two very healthy beautiful little boys. My third pregnancy was an exciting time as we wondered, "Would it be a little girl? Would we have another boy?" As long as the baby was healthy, the gender didn't matter, but it was fun to daydream about which the baby would be.
My first ob visit was around 10 weeks. The doctor couldn't pick up a heartbeat on the hand-held doppler machine. She said I could do an ultrasound right then or go home and come back in a few weeks. I decided to go home. I cried all the way home as the doctor believed she should have heard the heartbeat and there was no question how far along I was. My husband could not wait the two weeks and I was anxious to know if everything was alright, so we called back and went in the next day for an ultrasound.
The technician performed her job. I looked at a perfect, empty sac on the screen and thought to myself, "Where is the baby?" Then, I thought that the baby was just so small I couldn't see it. However, I remembered that we had gotten to see our second son at 10 weeks and he filled up the little sac, head, arms, legs, spine, bottom....it was all there. When the technician left, my husband said to me, "The sac looked empty." The doctor came in and told us she was sorry, but there was no baby.
How does this happen? The doctors aren't sure. A genetic problem that we cannot control. A fourth pregnancy has ended the same way for me. We are assured that we are healthy and one in four pregnancies end this way, so we've been on the bad side of those odds twice in a row now.
Let me finish by relating it is difficult to lose a baby. At the same time, it is difficult to lose the idea of a baby. There never was a third or fourth baby, but for 8 and 10 weeks we thought there was. This makes the grief process difficult and I've asked myself, "How can I be grieving for something that never was?" But, the answer is I did and I do. Life is a miracle and the hope of a life inside you that will not be a reality is worth grieving for. God, my Heavenly Father, and my husband have been the biggest support.
To other mothers going through a similar experience: My heart aches for you. It is painful and noone, except God who knows all and other women who have been through it, can truly understand all that you are thinking or feeling during this time. Try your best to take care of yourself. You must grieve and when you feel ready, try again! Life is worth fighting for.

Tracy Smith






Family Dreams

I hadn’t always dreamt of having a child. Those dreams didn’t start until later on. Instead, the majority of my dreams were focused on my career. Even when I was a little girl, my dreams were always about what I would do with my life and how I could help others. I had always wanted to be a policewoman. Ever since I knew the difference between right and wrong, I knew that I wanted to be one. By the time I was twenty I had accomplished my dreams, and was proudly wearing my uniform and badge. And for a good ten years my career fulfilled all my needs and wants.

But then one day something clicked inside of me. My mother calls it the biological clock, but I think that it was something else that made me desire a child. As a policewoman I had dealt with many emergency calls, some quite frightening. This call was different though. I was there to help a woman give birth to her baby. She hadn’t been able to make it to the hospital in time, and was giving birth inside of her car. She and her husband were so scared, but so excited at the same time. As the baby was born, I wrapped her up inside of my coat and gave her to her mom. I looked at both mother and baby, and saw joy and contentment on both of their faces. And I felt in my own a heart a need to experience such a bond.

From that point on, my husband and I began trying for a child. Michael had always wanted a child, someone he could play baseball with and teach the guitar to. But Michael knew how important my career was, and was content to live childless. But you should have seen the look on his face when he found out that I was ready to expand our family. For three months we tried and we were never closer than during that time.

After three months of period monitoring and timed intercourse, I got pregnant. We were so happy; we even kept the pregnancy test! We left it propped up on top of our dresser, as a kind of reminder of how lucky we were. Together, Michael and I went to see the doctor, and got our pregnancy confirmed. We went out to dinner that night to celebrate.

I had barely even begun to experience morning sickness when I noticed I was bleeding. I remember the day exactly: it was ten weeks into the pregnancy, and Michael and I had only known for four weeks. I was getting up to go to work – I was working the early shift that day, at 6:00 am – when I noticed that I was bleeding a little. I woke Michael up in a hurry and showed him. He thought that I had better take the day off work and go to the doctor.

Michael came with me. On the drive to the office all I could think about was my baby, how I wanted my baby to survive, to be born, to see the world. When I had gotten pregnant I was so happy that I hadn’t even thought of the chance of a miscarriage. I wish now that I had realized how much of a possibility miscarriages can be, especially in the first trimester.

When I got to the office my doctor examined me. By this time I was experiencing a few cramps, and little clots were passing out of my body. My baby was being miscarried, at only ten weeks old. I felt numb inside, and I could see tears in Michael’s eyes. The doctor advised me to go home and wait for the bleeding to stop. I would return in a day or so for another examination. All I wanted was to sink into the ground.

I returned to work about a week later, and threw myself back into my career. I worked double shifts, just so I wouldn’t have to think about my baby, the baby that never was meant to be. I left Michael at home, to deal with his pain alone. I stayed depressed for a long time – more than six months – before the fog began to lift.

I began to talk with Michael about the child we had lost. We cried together and decided we had to memorialize our child in some way. We held a little service for our baby, under a tree in our backyard, and we planted some flowers in his memory. The flowers bloom once every year and are the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen. Our hearts began to hurt a little less with each day, though we will never forget our first little love.

A year later, Michael and I got pregnant again, and I gave birth to a beautiful boy nine months later. His name is Jacob, and he is now two years old and is the light of our lives. He loves to play in the garden, listen to music, and (to Michael’s great joy!) loves to play baseball. Though I still hurt when I think of my first pregnancy, I can now appreciate the chances that I was given. And though it may seem silly, I feel as if the spirit of my first little love will always be with me.

Marie Sheffield







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