Pregnancy Loss & Awareness Month

My Miscarriage Story

Kierra Butcher

Artist. Photographer. Blogger. Mother. Wife. Angel Mom.

I still remember the first time I ever got a positive pregnancy test. I don't think its something I'll ever forget. I hadn't been feeling myself and decided to take a test, not expecting it to be positive. My heart started racing as that positive line came up immediately and suddenly I couldn't breathe, I was so surprised! And excited. I couldn't wait for Blake to get home to tell him. He was as ecstatic as I was.

I had honestly never even thought of the possibility of miscarriage at this point. My mom never had any, neither had anyone in my family besides one of my aunts. I just didn't even consider it. We told our families that night and told other extended family members as well since it happened to be Thanksgiving.

I'll also never forget finding the blood. When you're not even thinking something is a possibility the shock can be rattling. I was at work, and it was out of no where it seemed. I cried, Blake happen to work at the same place I did so I ran to him and sobbed. I didn't know what the blood meant but I was scared. Isn't it funny how much you can love something so small and so quickly? I swear that motherly love comes as soon as you see that positive sign.

An ultrasound and blood test showed that the baby had stopped growing and my hormones were going down instead of up. I was hysterical. I cried in the doctors office, all the way home, I stayed home from work and wallowed in bed. I felt so dark and lost. I honestly felt like I would never feel happy again. I was heartbroken and angry. I thought why me? I couldn't stop crying. I felt like no one could understand what I was feeling.

I was hesitant to turn to my Heavenly Father. I was angry with him. I was so hurt that he would take away something so precious to me. Didn't he think I would be a good mother? Didn't he know how bad I wanted that baby?

We had bought a few little books and stuffed animals for the baby already and I remember wanting to throw them away. I couldn't look at them, the symbol of what they meant to me was too painful. We had taken some pictures to help announce the pregnancy and I wanted to delete every single one of them. I just wanted to pretend like it never happened, I wanted not to feel anything.

The worst part was that the bleeding went on for two weeks. I was so ready to be done and just move on but that constant reminder was always there, shattering my heart each time.

I finally prayed for comfort, but it was almost like I felt I didn't deserve it. Like I had do something wrong not to deserve that baby.

Suddenly it seemed like everyone and their sister was pregnant. I seemed to see pregnant ladies and babies everywhere. I had a hard time sitting in church listening to the hum and rustle of children knowing that I wouldn't be having one of my own anytime soon. I was broken, and everything around me seemed to be salt in the wound.

I felt like the only thing that would make me whole again was to have a baby. It was a strange feeling , considering we hadn't been trying and the pregnancy had been a surprise. But suddenly it seemed like having a baby was vital to my being.

Blake didn't feel things the same way I did. The pregnancy only lasted 8 weeks so he hadn't felt that same connection I did. He didn't feel sad the way I did. He didn't understand the way I felt, as much as I desperately wanted him to. I wanted him to cry with me, to hurt with me, but Blake felt things differently. He was sad but he didn't show it like I did.

 

Eventually I seemed to find some sense of healing with time and lots of prayers. But still to this day I feel that hurt, and I think that's because I'll always love that baby. And it hurts because it mattered. And the hurt & love is all I have left.

We ended up having another loss two months later at 6 weeks. It wasn't necessarily easier this time but this time I was concerned about miscarriage right from the beginning which meant I didn't have the shock I had the first time.

Mothers day was torture. I cried. I wallowed. I felt empty and wanted someone to acknowledge that I was a mother to angels in heaven. It felt like everyone thought those babies I lost didn't count, miscarriage is not talked about enough-to those mothers who have lost their own angels-those babies do count. You're just as much of a mother as anyone holding their baby in their arms instead of in their heart.

For any women in that place, My heart goes out to you. I've been where you women stand and I've felt what you feel. I wish I could cry with all of you, and give you each a hug and a listening ear. I wish I knew the magic words that could heal you, I wish I knew the reasons why. Even though I don't, I know someone who does.

Heavenly Father loves you so so personally. He feels your pain, he knows your desires and he also knows what's best. We may not understand the why's here on this earth, but at least we can find comfort in knowing that our lives our in the hands of someone who loves us more than anyone else could. Someone who knows the past, present, and future. Someone who can see things we can't.

I know that we don't know when the spirit enters the body, but I have to believe that those babies counted. I have to believe that someday when I get to the other side that I'll get to meet those sweet spirits who I never got the chance to meet here on this earth.

Ladies, I'm here for you. You're not alone. You can get through this. And I believe that you will get your happy ending-whatever that ending looks like. I believe you will be happy again :)

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