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Rebecca Butler

Journey to a Rainbow: Part 1


Katie Hood has suffered 3 miscarriages and wanted to share her journey with us. Follow along for this 3 part series, Journey to a Rainbow, where we follow Katie on her current pregnancy journey. 

October

October is pregnancy loss awareness month. On October 4th, 2019, I lost our third baby. We had made it to 7 weeks! The longest stretch in any of the 3 of our pregnancies. However, our third angel baby had stopped growing at 6 weeks. I watched as the sonogram tech showed our baby on the screen.

Our first miscarriage was very sudden; it happened during the Summer of 2018. I was late by seven days; then experienced a very heavy flow for about two weeks. The doctor confirmed that I was probably experiencing a very early miscarriage.

Our second miscarriage was more difficult; I felt sick and tired. It occurred in April 2019; my doctor confirmed again that I was having a miscarriage at about 5 weeks.

Fate

Our first two miscarriages were not planned pregnancies; I was on the pill. We were not expecting to get pregnant. Both miscarriages hurt; yet I had not seen that positive pregnancy test, so in a way, those pregnancies did not seem as real to me. With my second miscarriage, I had a normal period then had a heavy cycle a week later.

Yes, we wanted a baby or maybe two; however, we are getting married in November. We did want to wait.

Yet, fate had funnier things in the works for us. This pregnancy hurt more than I can describe. I remember texting my best friend “I’m five days late”. Wait, she said. You never know about menstrual cycles. I agreed with her, she was right.

I had stopped taking my pill in August because I was feeling negative effects (lack of sex drive, painful cramps, mild depression and weight gain). I had seen the OBGYN and we had discussed IUDs. I went home to think about it and make a decision. I had decided that I would get an IUD when my period tracker on my phone informed me that I was now 11 days late.

Hmm, went my brain. Maybe you should go test. Four positive pregnancy tests later and I allowed myself a glimmer of hope. I called the doctor, she made an appointment for two weeks later; at my 8 week mark. She wanted to make sure we were able to hear a heartbeat.

We never did….

Feeling Powerless

The week before the appointment, my fiance and I got a bit more excited. We talked baby names and baby plans. We allowed ourselves to have hope that this baby, this pregnancy would be the one to beat the odds.

I have yet to come up with a word that describes my feelings towards this miscarriage. Destroyed is the one word I can think of and even that seems minimal compared to everything I have felt and am still feeling.

There is something completely powerful in being powerless and having no control over the situation that I’m in. It’s like I’m frozen and the world around is still moving, but in fast forward speed. My mouth is dry and feels like a pound of sand has been poured in my mouth. My tongue feels stuck to the bottom of my mouth and words stumble out of my mouth. I can’t think of the right words to respond to someone. I know that I have thoughts; there are so many thoughts screaming and running through my head. Yet, they do not form sentences to leave my mouth. Then there are other times when the silence is so deafening in my head that it takes everything inside of me, not to start blabbering and crying.

Life After a Miscarriage

I thought going to work would be helpful….. there are four pregnant women in my school. Every time I pass one, all I can do is offer a small smile and walk faster. I want to scream. I feel the pangs of jealousy when I see their bellies. I feel anger and I feel hot. This is not me… I am not an angry or a jealous person. I don’t like these emotions. I don’t like feeling like there is someone who has taken over my body. It’s like I am watching all of my physical body movements from outside my body.

The doctor told me that I should be happy I had one live birth in 2015. Yes, I am over the moon for my son; he is my world; but don’t fucking tell me to be happy I had one live birth. I want more children, I want my son to have a sibling. I want my fiance to experience the joys of parenthood from the positive pregnancy test to the labor and delivery.

You don’t get to tell me what to be happy and excited for. I so badly wanted to tell the doctor to “go fuck himself.” I guess it was a bit awkward for him while I was in the office; as I am silently sobbing and not responding to his questions.

I have had to remind myself to eat and drink. Then while I’m eating, I keep thinking about whether I ate or drank something that caused my body to stop nurturing the baby. This hurt is so raw; yet I don’t want to forget how I felt when I saw that positive test. I don’t want to forget the smile on my fiance’s face as we talked about our unborn child.

Humbling Experience

This experience has been so humbling because a lot has to happen for a healthy baby to be brought into this world. I don’t think I ever thought about how much of a blessing having a healthy and live baby is. There was a time when I took creating a baby for granted; that it was such an easy thing. I do want to talk about it with my friends; I want to acknowledge that this baby existed.

There comes a point in each day since I lost this baby that I feel empty inside. I don’t feel like I’m breathing; I’m not able to move and I feel exhausted. It feels like my body shuts down and the autopilot exhaustion mode takes over. This is when my mind gives the piercing shriek of “It’s your fault. This is the third one. Something is wrong with you.”

Part 2 will be released in late August.

Author: Katie Hood

Katie is a mom of “almost” 2, married, 32, loves to cook and write. She is a special education and IEP coordinator for Sheppard Pratt; and an educational advocate. Katie is a proud member of Cool Moms of Frederick County.

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