Our Story

There is a certain amount of time that passes where you just know the silence is louder than words.  Those few seconds that go by while waiting for the doctor to say, "and there's the heartbeat" as they point it out on the ultrasound screen.  You anxiously lie there and squeeze your husband’s hand.  Unfortunately, sometimes those five words are never heard.  

Instead...deafening silence.  

You know something is wrong.  So, you squeeze their hand even harder, you swallow as if it's the hardest thing you've ever done, and the doctor turns and looks at you with pain in their eyes and says, "I'm sorry, guys!  I'm not seeing a heartbeat."  

This is our story.

I say "our story" because in no way shape or form did this only happen to me.  Of course it was a loss to me, but it was a loss to my husband, to our then almost 4-year-old daughter, to our families, and to our close friends.  Let me rewind.

In 2012 I gave birth to a beautiful little girl.  I like to say her birthday is the day I became chopped liver to my husband.  Did I mind?  Absolutely not.  She was and is the light in his eyes and it is the most precious connection I've ever seen.  

My pregnancy was a "normal" pregnancy.  We got pregnant one month after trying (once I used those damn ovulation kits correctly.  Leave it to me!).  For the first 3 months I thought I was going to die from nausea and wanted to staple open my eyelids, but aside from that, everything was wonderful.  

Her due date was leap year, but she missed it by one day.  Her delivery was wonderful once I was full of the epidural!  Let's just say, I had some apologizing to do to the nurses for how I behaved pre epidural.  My hats, pants, shoes, and shirts off to those of you that have done a pain management free delivery!  I probably would have punched my doctor in the face if I didn't get an epidural! (Not really)

Everything went as well as can be expected.  She was perfect!  I had always heard, "You'll never fully understand what true love is until you've had a child" and I have to say that is 100% true.  Of course I'm madly in love with my husband, but it's different.  Here is this amazing little human that you created, and you just stare at them in complete disbelief.  "Wow! I made this."  This tiny person is now dependent on you for life!  Once you get over the initial, Holy s*it!  I'm in charge of another human being's realization, the beauty and unconditional love of that sets in.

The first year for me was the hardest.  My husband told me during one of my regular freak out sessions to calm down and enjoy it because I was missing it.  He was absolutely right!  I was one of those moms that didn't sleep all night even though my baby was asleep at the foot of our bed in a cozy bassinet because I was afraid she'd suffocate or die of SIDS in the middle of the night.  Rather than sleep, I would watch her or look at the monitor and stare at her chest to make sure she was breathing.

When it was time for her to try a new food, rather than video tape her in excitement to see how she'd like or dislike a certain food, I wanted to drive to the nearest emergency room parking lot and feed it to her there just in case she had an allergic reaction to something.  While other friends were feeding their kids grapes right off the vine, I would cut each grape up into quarters just so she wouldn't choke.  Oh and when she'd get a fever or cold, forget it!  I was a mess!

I worried about everything!!!  I look back at videos of her first year which I am SO thankful we have because I don't remember most of it.  I was in a complete fog.  I never thought I had postpartum depression aka baby blues because I didn't feel depressed, sad, or frustrated. I just worried about 99% of each day.   

I did some research on it and came to find out there is a form of postpartum that relates to high anxiety and constant worry called postpartum anxiety.  So there ya go!  Am I ashamed?  Absolutely not!  The first year of a baby's life for all of the family, in my opinion, is all about survival.  And damn it, we survived!  

My husband and I had always planned on having two kids.  Our perfect scenario was a boy and a girl, but we honestly didn't mind, whatever we were blessed with.  "Happy and healthy" we'd always say.  We will take what we can get!  Another plan we had was to have the kiddos be two years apart.  That was until our perfect little angel hit 18 months old.

Let's just say she hit the terrible two's a little early and there was no way in hell I was having another baby!  I was done!  She was it!  We would have an only child and I was all good with that.  She was a handful to say the least.  Our little stinker pants, I called her.  Here's an example.  

One morning she and I went out on the front porch to say hello to some of our neighbors that were outside.  She didn't have any shoes or socks on so I asked her to stay on the porch because the ground was still cold and damp.  She was 18 months old.  Our porch goes the length of our house so to give you an idea I was standing in the middle.  She walked all the way to the end of the porch and asked to go say "hi". I calmly told her "not right now", but before I could even finish that response, our "little stinker" had already made her way off the porch and was headed down our driveway.

I sternly called her name and said, "Mommy told you no.  Please come back to the porch!"  She turned her head, gave me the most devilish little smirk, and took off running!!  I don't mean a casual jog....I mean a fricking sprint!  This girl could run!  Must've been those track  genes from her daddy.  

She had me, our neighbors across the street, the couple from a few houses down, and the couple from the corner chasing her down yelling at her to stop!  She laughed the entire time, which just further pissed me off.  That day she had an extra long time out.

Incidents like this were on the regular and I had no patience for another baby and I also didn't want to put myself or my husband through another first year of worrying and stressing out over everything!  She was it!  

Let me say our daughter, now twelve, is the sweetest, most independent, intelligent, caring, sensitive, beautiful, spirited girl.  However, she has two incredibly stubborn parents so she didn't stand a chance, poor thing.  She is equally, if not more stubborn than I ever was.  She is a leader, and doesn't care what anyone thinks.  Things are going to get done HER way!  She'll be an amazing grown up with these traits.  My parents are enjoying every minute of it too as I was a bit of a handful later on in life. Karma is a b*tch, but I wouldn't change a thing about her.  She's perfect to us!

My husband and I were set.  We had our amazing little girl and we were complete.  Then a little health scare changed our lives forever!  In October 2014, I started having some pains around my ovaries.  Back in 1999, I had an ovarian cyst rupture so I was prone to cysts.  I had a feeling that maybe one was back.  I went in for a checkup and the doctor suggested an ultrasound.  I had one done and sure enough I had bilateral ovarian cysts, which basically means a cyst on both ovaries.

It didn't scare me too much.  Like I mentioned, I'd had them before and they are very common in women.  Hereditary as well.  Both my grandmother and mom have struggled with them.  They're more an annoyance than anything and when they rupture....holy (beep!). Picture a hot dagger being driven into your ovary and then turned slowly.  It's extremely painful!

Mine were small in size so my doctor just said we'd watch them over the next few months.  She also asked if we were planning on getting pregnant again.  Beforehand, I would've given her the response I gave everyone that asked me, "Hell no!"  However, this time I was hesitant.  Why was she asking me this?  Was something wrong?  Would these cysts cause a problem if I were to get pregnant?  It threw me for a loop!  She said if they get to a certain size, they can interfere and at that point they'd remove them.

Here's where my stubbornness kicked in.  Rather than take the news and have it confirm that maybe we would in fact just be able to have our daughter, I said to myself, "No way!  Nobody or thing is going to make that decision for me!  If I don't want another baby, I'm deciding!  Not some damn cysts!"  Was I changing my mind?  Did I want another baby?  Could I wrap my head around it now?

I went home and while sitting with my husband I asked him, "Are we done?"  Not knowing what the heck I was referring to he asked, "Done with what?!"  "Babies", I replied.  I'll never forget how calmly he responded.  There wasn't a pause for thought.  There wasn't a look of shock.  Nothing.  He looked me dead in the eyes and said, "No.  We're not.  When we got married our plan was two.  It's always been two.  Of course it's your body and if you don't want to go through it again, I understand, but yes.  I'd love one more with you".

That was it.  Between my determined thoughts and his perfect response, I had made up my mind.  We would have another baby.  I emailed back my doctor to tell her my answer.  She was thrilled for us, but suggested we check the cysts the next month.  We held off on trying to see if they'd gone away, gotten smaller, or increased in size.  Unfortunately, it was the last.

A month later I had another ultrasound and sure enough, one had tripled in size.  The cyst on my left ovary was no longer there, but the right one was.  This just confirmed even more how strongly I wanted another baby.  I remember even wishing it would rupture just so it wouldn't be there anymore.  We were advised to wait another month before trying, so we did.  

Now it was mid December and I had another ultrasound.  Good news!  It was half the size from my last appointment.  I was so happy!  Remember the wish I made about rupturing?  Well, be careful what you wish for!  It ended up rupturing and the pain was so bad my dad had to take me to the emergency room.  Thankfully, everything was okay and we could get on with our plans!

A little known fact about me is I am not good at waiting to surprise someone with gifts or news. I get way too excited and blow it almost every time.  It's so bad that my husband has to talk me out of telling him what I get for his birthday and Christmas presents when I buy him things early because he knows how bad I want to show him.  This goes for waiting to find out if I'm pregnant too.  I hate the waiting so I always take early tests and then stress myself when they're negative because it's just too damn early to test.  I'm a little impatient, what can I say?

I was due to start my period on January 22, 2015 so of course, rather than wait to see if I was late, I decided to take a test a day early.  I did that with our daughter too and sure enough, I was pregnant so I thought I'd try the same way again.  I was home alone.  My husband and daughter were out spending some quality time together so I took a test.  

Waiting for those two darn lines to slowly show up is the longest minute of your life!  Yet there they were.  It was positive!  I was shocked, excited, giddy, nervous, anxious, and surprised.  I couldn't believe it.  It happened so fast.  One month of trying and there it was.  I was pregnant again.  This was meant to happen, I thought.  All those apprehensions we had were put to rest.  I couldn't wait to tell my husband, daughter, and family!

My husband and I are big time coffee drinkers so I thought it would be a clever way of tying that in when I broke the news.  They were still gone so I decided to head to our local Starbucks.  I'm there on a daily basis so they know us pretty well.  I went through the drive through and ordered his usual drink.  Once I got to the window I asked one of the baristas at the window if I could quickly borrow her sharpee pen.  She looked at me oddly, but gave it to me anyway.  On the cup where they usually write your name, I wrote "I'm pregnant!"  

I turned the cup so she could see what I just wrote and she screamed, "No way!" and clapped hysterically.  She was so excited for us.  She became emotional and promised not to say anything to my husband if she saw him.  Some of the other employees that we know were there too and they were jumping for joy in the background.  It all just got me that much more excited to get home and tell them.  

Funny enough, two minutes after I left Starbucks my husband called and said they were headed home.  He asked me if I needed anything or wanted another coffee.  I told him no thanks and let him know I had just stopped to get us one.  Great minds think alike!  I rushed home and sat on the couch with his coffee in hand.

I heard his truck pull in our driveway and the butterflies in my stomach were out of control.  I was so excited!  They came in and my daughter gave me a huge hug before running into her room to go play.  It was a running joke that each time my husband went to Starbucks they would spell his name wrong, so I used that.  He walked over, gave me a kiss, and I said, "Check out how they spelled your name this time". I handed him the cup and he turned it around expecting to see another rendition of his name.  

Once he saw the words, "I'm pregnant!" It took him a moment to process it.  He looked at the cup, looked at me, looked back at the cup, looked back at me again and said, "Wait, what?!  Are you serious?!" and bursting with pride that it had happened on our first try he yelled, "Oh yeah!  That's right!"  We had gotten pregnant on the first try so his ego was beaming with pride.  My husband has one heck of a sense of humor.  One of the reasons I fell in love with him. He gave me a huge hug and kiss.  We were thrilled.  

We talked about when we were going to tell our daughter.  We had to keep in mind that by telling our then three old such a huge secret, it may not remain a secret for very long before she'd tell everyone.  We decided we couldn't wait and we were just going to chance it.  We called her into the living room and told her she was going to be a big sister.  She was so happy!  She kissed my stomach and said, "Hi baby!  I'm your big sister!"  It was precious.  

I have a very close relationship with my parents so we decided to share it with them too.  We took a video of our daughter saying, "Hi grandma.  Hi grandpa.  I'm going to be a big sister" and had them watch it.  They just thought they were watching another video of her doing something funny or cute, so they were completely shocked and excited!  It was pretty special.  We did the same for my brother, father-in-law, and other family members.  It was a lot of fun!

The pregnancy was moving along as it should.  I felt horrible so that's usually a good sign.  I was super nauseous and my breasts hurt so bad.  Never had that with our daughter so it was new to me.  Not pleasant, let me tell you!  It came time for our eight week checkup and we couldn't wait.  This appointment meant we got to see the little one's heartbeat.  It's the appointment where it really sinks in that there's a life forming inside you.  There's nothing like it!

It was a Tuesday morning.  February 17, 2015.  We dropped our daughter off at preschool and headed to the doctor.  We got checked in and all was good so far.  My weight gain was on track, blood pressure was great.  Everything was as it should be.  The nurse gave me my gown to put on and my husband and I waited anxiously for the doctor to come in.

She came in a couple minutes later and we shared our excitement with her.  She asked if I was having any pregnancy symptoms and I told her everything that was going on.  She said everything sounded normal and on track so it was time to measure the baby and see his/her heartbeat.  My husband got up and came over to stand beside me.  He held my hand, smiled, and said, "Here we go, babe!"  

The doctor began the ultrasound and there on the screen was our little cutie.  The doctor measured the baby.  She was very pleased.  The baby was measuring eight weeks, right where it should be.  "Alright", she said. "Let's find that heartbeat!"

There is a certain amount of time that passes where you just know the silence is louder than words.  Those few seconds that go by while waiting for the doctor to say, "and there's the heart beat" as they point it out on the ultrasound screen.  You anxiously lie there and squeeze your husband's hand.  Unfortunately, sometimes those five words are never heard.  Instead...deafening silence.  

You know something is wrong.  So you squeeze their hand even harder, you swallow as if it's the hardest thing you've ever done, and the doctor turns and looks at you with pain in their eyes and says, "I'm sorry, guys!  I'm not seeing a heartbeat."

In that moment I had a million questions running through my head, but I couldn't seem to grasp what she just said to ask any of them.  I was trying to hold it together and then my husband bent over and hugged me.  I lost it!  He whispered, "I'm sorry, baby!" as I wept on his shoulder.

I calmed myself down and our doctor was as sweet as could be.  She said how sorry she was and assured us it was nothing we did wrong.  She told us what I had experienced was called a missed miscarriage.  Basically, my body didn't recognize that the baby stopped growing so it never eliminated itself.  I asked her if there was ever a heartbeat and she said, "Yes.  I say that because the fetus is measuring where it should be and it wouldn't have grown to that size without a heartbeat".

Somehow that made it harder to hear.  I thought if there was never a heartbeat maybe I could wrap my head around that better.  Now I learn that there was in fact one at some point and I realized in that moment, our baby had died.  I was numb.   

Our doctor asked that I come back in the next morning for a repeat ultrasound.  She said that for some families it helps seeing a second one so there aren't any questions or "what ifs" moving forward.  I asked her what the next step would be.  She said we could either wait for my body to eliminate it on its own or do an IPASS D & C.  What worried her about waiting was there was a chance I could've bled very heavily and she wanted to avoid that.  So, we scheduled the IPASS for Thursday, February 19th.  Going those two days with our baby still inside me knowing it had already passed away was extremely heartbreaking.

Let me clarify the type of procedure I had for those of you that are unfamiliar with it as I was.  A D & C most of you might be familiar with or have heard of.  This procedure dilates the cervix and scrapes or scoops (curettage) the remaining tissue out.  The procedure my doctor wanted to schedule me for, IPASS, is vacuum aspiration.  Rather than scraping, they suction out the remaining tissue which is better for the cervix as it doesn't leave a larger amount of scar tissue.  You are also awake for the IPASS rather than being "put under", which I wanted to avoid.  

We were given instructions on what to do and given a prescription to take the day before which would help in starting the process of breaking down the remaining tissue.  She gave us hugs and expressed her condolences once more.  She really was amazing and patient with us.  We left the doctor's office and got into the car.  Like I mentioned before, we are very close with my parents so they knew about our appointment and were anxiously waiting for us to check in afterwards.  I took a deep breath and called them.

My dad answered the phone and got my mom on their second line.  My mom said, "So, how'd it go?"  I burst into tears.  I somehow managed to get out, "There wasn't a heartbeat".  They both shockingly asked, "What?!"  I calmed myself down a little to give them a quick explanation.  They were devastated!  My mom was very emotional.  Not only for us, but I'm sure it brought back memories of her own miscarriage that she experienced between my older brother and myself.  

I told them I'd check in later as we were on our way to pick up our daughter from preschool.  Thank goodness I had my sunglasses on that day!  It was time to put on a smile for all the parents we were about to see.  We walked into the principal's office to sign her out and she asked us how our morning was, as she always did.  My husband had to tell her as I couldn't talk.  I was afraid of another meltdown any second.  The principal had a heart of gold.  She stood and started crying herself as she hugged us both.

We walked over to our daughter's classroom to wait for her to run out.  The doors opened and there she was.  Our ray of sunshine on what was an extremely gloomy day.  She jumped on us and gave us hugs.  I couldn't let go!  We had just experienced a huge loss, but here in my arms was our beautiful, healthy, wonderful, little girl and I felt an enormous amount of love and appreciation for her.  We got into the car and because her memory is so insanely good, she asked about the appointment and how the baby is.  She asked, "Did you bring me a picture of it?"  

My husband and I looked at each other knowing this conversation with her would be a rough one.  Thankfully, he took over.  He first showed her the ultrasound photo that the doctor had printed of the baby before we knew it had passed away.  She said, "Oh wow!  So adorable!"  I lost it again.  She saw me crying and asked what was wrong.  My husband said, "Mommy and daddy are really sad.  You know how we have talked about heaven and it's a beautiful place where people we love go when they die?"  She replied, "Yes". He went on. "Well, unfortunately the baby was sick and it had to go back to heaven."

She was quiet for a moment.  I think she was taking it all in and trying to make sense of what her daddy had just said.  "Ohhhhhhh", she said sadly.  "You mean, the baby isn't in mommy's tummy anymore?"  My husband grabbed my hand.  "No, it is sweetie.  The doctors have to remove it from mommy in a couple of days, but its soul is already in heaven."  "Does this mean I won't be a big sister anymore?" she asked.  "We don’t know, baby!  We just have to wait a little longer" my husband answered.  All I could do was stare out of the truck window because I knew if I turned around and looked at her sad little face I would be a complete wreck and I didn't want her to see that.  It was sad enough.  

She handled it beautifully!  My husband told her that now she has a little brother or little sister angel that is always with her.  He explained to her how she can always talk to him/her and pray to them.  She was happy that the baby wasn't sick anymore and in true heart of gold fashion that she has, she ended up consoling me.  "Mommy, it's okay.  The baby isn't sick anymore and now it's happy and healthy in heaven.  Maybe she (she'd always referred to the baby as a she.  We were going to name it Lacey if it was a girl) is with great grandma and great grandpa now".  Our little girl was wise beyond her years and she was absolutely right!

We left the preschool and my husband drove in the opposite direction from our house.  I asked him where he was going and he said, "I'm taking you to your parents house and dropping you off.  I feel like you need to be with them right now and be alone.  I'll take our girlie to the park or something."  Did I mention how amazing my husband is yet?!  I didn't even have to ask.  He just knew.  I thanked him, gave them kisses, and walked up to their front door.  

My parents didn't know I was coming so they were probably a bit shocked to see me.  My parents greeted me at the door and I went limp in their arms.  We cried as we hugged.  I sat down on their couch and it took me quite awhile, but I was able to tell them about our appointment.  They were wonderful!  

They just sat with me and let me go through my emotions.  I went into my old bedroom and lied down on my old bed and just cried for a few hours.  After some time alone, I sent a text to my husband that I was ready to go home so he and our daughter came and picked me up.

My parents went out to the truck with me to see my husband and daughter.  They gave him a huge embrace.  They kissed our girl, told us they were here for us anytime to help, and we went home.  It was time to get back into “mommy mode” with our little girl.  We explained to her why we were sad and that we really needed her to be patient with us and we'd be patient with her too if she was feeling sad about what had happened.  I was pretty useless that evening.  I held our daughter a lot that night.  More so than she cared for. Snuggles require sitting still for periods of time and she doesn't have time to sit still.  She's an on the go kinda gal!

Many families do something in memory of the child they’ve lost which we loved the idea of doing.  Something for closure in a small way and something we could include our daughter in.  My husband had a wonderful idea which was to tie one of our ultrasound photos to a blue and pink balloon and let our daughter fly them up to heaven.  She LOVED the idea and so that’s what we did.  We went to the park near our house, said our “goodbyes” and watched the balloons fly up to heaven. 

The days that followed were in slow motion.  It felt like the rest of the world was carrying on as usual and I wasn’t a part of it.  I am so incredibly thankful for how amazing my husband was (is), for my family and friends who checked in on us, and for our daughter.  She was my reason for getting out of bed each day, though I didn’t want to.  The reason I would eat, get ready for each day, and act somewhat human.

Not only did she keep me going, but something happened that never would have occurred to me had I not seen it for myself.  She too was grieving.  They call children who have lost a sibling the forgotten mourners.  As parents, it is easy to get wrapped up in your own grief.  Never did I envision her grief.  Don’t get me wrong.  I knew she would be sad.  She couldn’t wait to become a big sister.  She talked about it daily and all of the fun things they were going to do together and all of the things she was going to teach “her”.  

However, I didn’t realize it was going to affect her the way it did.  She was only 3, almost 4 years old.  I thought she’d maybe cry and get right over it.  That wasn’t the case.  There were days I would walk by her room and hear her crying by herself.  I’d ask her why she was upset and she’d tell me, “I miss the baby”.  Other times, she would run out of her room excited and tell me, “Mommy.  You should have seen Lacey today.  She is wearing such a pretty dress!”  There were days I would walk by and hear her talking to someone and when I would ask her who she was talking to, she’d say she was playing with Lacey.  

This went on for a couple of months and in a big way, saved me from my own emotions (though I did grieve.  Believe you me).  I didn’t have time to sit in my own sadness.  I now was concerned about our girl's feelings and how to get her through it.  I started looking into different resources and nothing really spoke to me.  There are so many amazing organizations, books, etc out there, but I wanted something more personal to us and our experience.  So…I wrote a book.

It became therapy not only for me, but I think for her too.  I would write our story here and there when we weren’t busy and have her sit with me and get her opinion.  I’d ask her if she liked what I wrote or if she thought there were things I should include in the story.  She would help me with what she thought the pictures of the pages should look like and she loved the thought of having herself in a book.  

“Blue & Pink Balloons” is our story as if seen through our daughter’s eyes. A story of wishing for a sibling, the excitement in becoming one, the sadness and grief in losing the baby, and the support and love from family.  This book validates children’s feelings when there is a loss and reminds them that they are loved no matter what.

I hope our story can go on and be a resource for other siblings that experience a loss due to miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, stillbirth, or infant loss.  A resource for children to know that even if their sibling is gone, their emotions matter and they can get through it with people they love surrounding them.  

Thank you for reading our story!

(Though we did the release of the balloons in memory of our loss and for our daughter to be included, I do not recommend releasing balloons as it is not beneficial for our planet)