When word got out about the miscarriage a lot of people sent me some very nice messages. Most were concerned mainly with how Heather was doing, which I understood. She was the one who had to learn the baby inside of her body no longer had a heartbeat, she was the one who had to undergo the D&C, and she was the one who had to be sore and uncomfortable afterward. Despite this, a good number of people also inquired about how I was doing, and I really appreciated that. While the Mom has to endure the hardest part, a miscarriage is still very hard on the Dad.
As hard as this all was, however, it could have been a lot harder. After getting the news I found myself thinking in a very gallows’ humor sort of way, “If there’s one thing that prepares you for a miscarriage, it’s losing a child.” Yep. Losing Maddie definitely put this into perspective. But it still stinks. Especially when Heather and I spent so much time preparing for what our life would have been like after the baby arrived.
One of the ways we did this was by discussing potential baby names. We debated them (“What about Eleanor?” “Really? Eleanor Spohr?”), made lists of our favorites, then pared down our top picks to our absolute favorites for a boy and girl. Sadly, I’m not sure what will happen to those names now. Even if we do get pregnant again, there’s something about giving a future child a name originally meant for another that doesn’t sit right.
We also spent a lot of time wondering about the sex of the baby. We knew that this baby would have made us either the parents of three girls or finally given us a boy. Those are two very different kinds of families, and we talked late into the night discussing each:
Me: “I think a family of girls would be cute.”
Heather: “You think never getting to use the bathroom again would be cute?”
Me: “It wouldn’t be that bad.”
Heather: “Yeah, it would. I’m a girl. I know. You know what would be cute though? A boy.”
Me: “You wouldn’t think that if you knew what boys do in the bathroom.”
Heather: “Ew. Maybe just girls is best.”
I eventually got a strong feeling this baby was going to be a boy, and started to get excited about the prospect of having a son. Of course we’ll never know now if I was right, but part of me will always wonder. Was this pregnancy the son I was supposed to have? Or was it to be another beautiful girl?
The hardest part of this though just might be what it will do to any future pregnancy we may have. It’s sad/funny… when Heather told me she was pregnant I gave her a little speech about how she needed to enjoy this pregnancy. It would be her last, and since her previous pregnancies were so stressful, she needed to savor and enjoy the experience as much as possible.
And then this happened.
There will be no savoring or enjoying any future pregnancy. There will only be white knuckle fear the whole nine months. I’ve met some blissfully naive people who say stuff like, “I love ultrasounds! They’re so fun! You get to see the baby! How cool is that?” and I’m glad things have gone so smoothly for them. But ever since our first ultrasound with Maddie we’ve never been anything but scared out of our minds during an ultrasound, and that will never change.
I’m hanging in there, though. I’m doing my best to move forward and hoping that, with any luck, our hardest days are behind us.
Katy says:
I had a miscarriage 2 years ago. After much trying and finally having to do IUI, we had a baby 2 months ago. I was a mess the entire pregnancy. I was so scared that I’d miscarry again or that they would find something wrong. I talked to others who had miscarried and this is completely normal. I tried my best to enjoy this past pregnancy, but once you lose a baby, I don’t think you can fully let go of the past. Now we have a beautiful baby girl. So, it will happen for you. I know it will. And I will always have a special place in my heart for my sweet baby angel in Heaven. And I also wonder if that baby was a boy or girl. So very sorry.
mccgoods says:
I feel like a jerk I can’t believe I didn’t ask about you. My husband was my rock through both miscarriages. But he also cried,yelled,and grieved. I am always so concerned about him, I can’t believe I forgot to ask about the father. I am often asked about names, I had a name in my head, and it’s so special to me I am not sure I want to give it there are days where we believe that we just might get to use the name.
Thank you for posting. I am thinking of you all.
defendUSA says:
Mike…although I can’t tell you that my husband would have written a thoughtful blog post about what he felt, it is nearly identical to your thoughts. We had it rough, but in the end, he was able to enjoy the pregnancies we had. In my mind, I don’t even give the bad stuff a choice to rear the head. As my children are older now, I have two adult and two younger, I miss that I cannot recall the days before. That, too is a natural thing, I suppose. No matter what had come before, I knew I had to enjoy the moments. As impossible as it seems now, you can and you should when it happens again, revel in the joys no matter how small.
Janne says:
I am so very very sorry for your loss.
Jenn says:
Hi Mike,
I’m glad to hear you’re doing okay. You’re right though…this DOES Suck!!! Mike, I wanted to tell you, I have lost 5 babies & with all of my D& C’s we were told the sex of the baby. So, if you do want to know,ask your Dr to see if that was something they tested. You might just get to know the gender of your baby after all (if this is something you & H are wanting to know).
As I’ve stated & texted you previously…I am very sorry this has happened to you family!!
With Support, Friendship & Love,
Jenn xo
Mary says:
Mike,
There’s no other way to say it, but the whole thing just stinks. I wish I could come up with something insightful to say…but that’s all I have. Grieve as you need to; there’s no one way to do it. You all remain in my heart.
Mary
Angela says:
I am sorry for your loss.
LL says:
When I miscarried, they did a D&C and genetic testing-so we found out the gender and the reason the baby didn’t make it. It makes sense, but I hadn’t thought of them seeing the Y chromosome and I wasn’t prepared, so I just wanted to give you a heads up. I’m not sure what testing your docs did or how all docs do it, but mine called and told me the results of the karyotyping and then said, “do you want to know the gender?”
Kristin says:
I am so sorry for you loss, Mike. We went through many, many early losses and it sucks.
Melli says:
Sorry for your lose
Rachel says:
Sorry for your loss. I miscarried twice, and went on to have two children who are now 15 & 12, a girl & boy. I felt strongly that my first baby was a girl, the second a boy, but will never know. The first miscarriage happened at home, and I had a d&c for the second. That was 16 1/2 years ago, so maybe they didn’t do the testing that would have told us, and I honestly didn’t think about it. I was right with my gender “intuitions” with both of the kids here with me now, so I figure I was probably right with the first two as well. I was a nervous wreck through the entire pregnancy as well, and agree with your comments about ultrasounds being scary. Thank you for talking openly about the Dad’s point of view, I think many people forget he’s grieving too. Thinking of you and Heather.
Sarah says:
After my miscarriage, I really felt detached for the first 14-20 or so weeks of pregnancy. And at 16 weeks we had some issues with our anatomy scan (nothing life threatening, it turns out, but incredibly worrying nonetheless.) As much as I dread those drs’ visits because I am always waiting for the other shoe to drop, I try to give myself permission to have hope as well. After that first scary scan, I went out and bought a gift from myself to the baby, and I do so after nearly every scan, whatever the news. I don’t think it’s possible to go through an entire pregnancy without at least a little bit of that, willing yourself to belive you are going to bring home a healthy baby.
Amber says:
Mike,
I love reading your perspective. Thank you so much for sharing.
Blue says:
It’s the loss of potential that hurts so bad, and I do think it’s wise to try to keep from dreaming until later in a pregnancy – early miscarriages or so common – but damn if that isn’t hard, sometimes. Real hard. And what a grim task, to tamp down hope.
I hope this kind of sadness never visits you again. That’s enough for one family. Hang in there.
EG says:
I am so sorry for the loss of your precious little one. I wanted to let you know that if you are getting the chromosome testing done on the baby (I think this was mentioned in a previous post), they should be able to tell you if the baby was a boy or girl. My husband and I have miscarried nine babies (still no live children) and were only able to have testing done on one of our babies (the rest we were not able to get to the dr for testing), but finding out the gender and being able to give that baby a name gave us some more closure. Stay strong, even though I know during these times its difficult.
Pattie says:
I’m so sorry for your loss, Mike.
Shelly says:
You’re right – no one really asks about the dad. And that’s not fair. You’re also right in how will you be able to use the names of the baby you guys were talking about for a future baby. I struggled with that after my first loss – did I want to name the next baby what I wanted to name baby number 2? Then I miscarried. Got pregnant again and thought about the name…..we decided to keep the middle name and go with a different first name. But then I miscarried again. When I got pregnant again and stayed pregnant, I didn’t want to even say those names out loud. Lucky for me I had a boy so it wasn’t an issue. Yep, after 9 months of sheer terror that I’ve never known in my life, I had a healthy baby boy. I felt so guilty that I wasn’t able to enjoy my pregnancy with him because I was so scared. Don’t let anyone tell you that your feelings aren’t justified because you have every right to be scared. Lots of good thoughts your way.
Kat says:
ohhhh…. how I wish I could change things for you and Heather! What you are feeling and experiencing is so SO common for what you’ve been through, yet unique to you know because YOU (by you I mean you and Heather) are the ones living it RIGHT NOW! I went into my first pregnacy as one of the naive people… and then it happened! I lost twins @ 18 weeks and it was horrific! I went on to have 2 wonderfully hilarious kids that keep me on my toes… but the pregnacy with each was absolutely not easy. I remember just wishing that I could be carefree like my friends and co-workers… Heathers doctor should understand any stress and anxiety with future pregnancies… and should be willing to accomodate when able to. I am thinking of you both!!
Kristen @ The Chronicles of Dutch says:
I understand the fear…everyday I waited for a sign that it wasn’t going to happen. Every ultrasound there was nervous laughter, sweaty palms, & me trying to prepare myself for the worst. I hear you.
Chrisie says:
Hugs to you both. I can’t imagine. Thinking of you guys everyday.
Leslie says:
Hi Mikey,
I apologize that I haven’t asked how you are doing. I am so sorry for your loss. I’m thinking about you and Heath.
Love always,
Leslie
tricia says:
Thank you for giving us the dad’s perspective. Your feelings are very much supported and I’m just so sorry your family has to experience yet another loss. Blessings to each of you.
Glenda says:
Thinking of you and Heather!
So sorry this happened to you guys!
Praying for future blessings.
Sunny says:
I’m always amazed by women who are able to have that blissful, naive pregnancy experience. I’m happy for them, I really am, but in a way that easy, light, carefree business is quite shocking to me.
Again, so sorry for your loss. Words are so inadequate, but my thoughts and prayers are with both of you, and your loved ones.
Nicole Singleton says:
I’m so sorry for your family’s loss, Mike.
Leslie says:
I can think of a whole bunch of things I was told after I miscarried the twin in my third pregnancy, but almost everything people say is hurtful so I won’t share those things. The remainder of my third pregnancy and all of my fourth pregnancy were so difficult for me because of that fear that you talked about. You are so correct that the fear will be there through any pregnancies that may follow, the joy that follows is increased as well though. I’m sure you understand that immense joy of holding a healthy baby after suffered through the loss of another. It will never undo the hurt, but it does make a glimmer of hope through darkness. I’m so sorry that you both get to experience this as well. I wish there was something profound I could say to you, but like you know already there are no words that dull the pain of loss. Still, I know that there is an abundance of happiness awaiting you and Heather in this life, I just wish the painful things didn’t have to happen first.
Jill says:
I am so sorry for the loss of your baby. Like many others, I do understand how you feel though each family’s grief is individual to them. I have had three miscarriages and what I have done is choose names for those babies based on the patron saints of the day they died and the day they were due. So I have three girl names that I’ve registered at the Church of the Holy Innocents in New York City where they will forever be remembered. These names are meaningful and beautiful but aren’t names that we might use for another child. If you didn’t want to use saint names, you could choose names that represent a virtue or the month they were lost or the season–something meaningful for you. And you don’t have to be Catholic to register your child in the memorial. Just go here: http://www.innocents.com/shrine.asp
As a Catholic, one of the things that does bring me comfort is to think that our Holy and perfect Mother Mary will hold my babies for me until I can get there to hold them myself and that they are praying for me and my husband and living children throughout our lives. Little saints in heaven, just for us. That’s not to say I don’t wish they were here…I cried a river on Mother’s Day thinking I should have had a newborn in my arms…but in the moments when I am less filled with emotion, it does help to think of them waiting for me and praying for me in the arms of Mary.
God bless you both during this difficult time. I’ll be praying for you as I have since that awful day you lost Maddie. I am not a regular poster but I do read your blog daily and keep you and your sweet family in my thoughts and prayers.
Katie B. says:
I’m always amazed at the material you post on here. Always so well written.
I have to admit I find myself envious after reading this post. As I’ve mentioned on here before, my husband and I have had two losses – miscarriage and ectopic – so I am somewhat familiar with the feelings you and Heather have felt the past few days. I was devastated with my first loss but found myself completely numb with the second loss. I thought about this this morning and realized I am still pretty much numb. It was discovered I was having an ectopic pregnancy July 1st of last year and I was rolled into surgery hours later. I only knew I was pregnant for two days so maybe that’s why I am still numb, because I didn’t really have time to fully accept and believe that I really was pregnant? But back to my comment about being envious. My husband showed his grief with the losses entirely different than I did. With the second one, I accused him of not even caring because I felt like he wasn’t showing any signs of being sad or devastated, at all. He has always said that pregnancies don’t feel real to him until he’s holding our babies, so maybe he wasn’t ever really upset. I don’t know, and not sure I will ever know, but I may just leave it alone because I don’t want to force him to show feelings he really doesn’t have. So what I’m trying to say (and not doing a very good job of saying) is that I’m envious that you are feeling upset and hurt, wondering all the what ifs like I did – and still do – with my losses. Does this make sense? I guess I wish I knew my husband felt like I do, grieves like I do, cares like I do. It’s touching to see a guy care, not only about the child he will never meet, but also about his wife who is suffering. I hope this doesn’t offend you and Heather, and hope that you can understand what I’m trying to say.
You have reminded us all an important thing: moms are not the only ones who grieve losses like these. Again, so so very sorry for you and your family’s loss. Sending lots of live and hugs your way.
Auntie_M says:
Mike,
Both you and Heather continue to be in my thoughts & prayers. I am so sorry you have suffered another dreadful loss. My love goes out to you and Heather during this time (and always).
~Mary
Sonya aka Glam-O-Mommy says:
Mike, I’m keeping you and Heather in my thoughts. It sounds like you are both dealing with this as best you can. After all you’ve been through, no one deserves a happy ending more than both of you. I’ve got to believe that joy and light, like the light Maddie brought and Annie brings into the world, will be coming to you once again. You guys take care of each other. Hugs to you both.
Rachael says:
I’m sorry. It just sucks that you won’t be able to enjoy those things that so many people do. This is so much for you to cope with, and it’s just not fair.
jess says:
I’m so sorry. The first thing I said to my boyfriend when I read about this is, I just don’t understand. Mike and Heather don’t deserve it. I wish it would’ve been different for you. Sending love to you both.
Meyli says:
ELEANOR….and RIGBY!!
Ha, I get it
I don’t know what to say other than I’m sorry for your family, and I hope you can pull through. You have a beautiful family, and I really hope it can grow
aubrey says:
so sorry you have gone through this.
steph says:
Oh that ultrasound fear,I know it well.I have 3 children and I remember after having Scarlett (Our first,she came at 33 weeks but was the size of a 28 weeker, 2 pounds 3 ounces) I simply dreaded every single ultrasound for my next two children.I didn’t want to feel that way and I remember everyone telling me how great they were and how beautiful and wonderful and so on,but all I remember about them is trying to prepare myself for bad news again before every single one,then feeling like I could breathe again for about an hour afterwards,then remembering I would have another one in a week or two and start to think about preparing for that one.
It sucks.
We had a few miscarriage between the births of my children as well.
I have no words other than it completely sucks.No-one should have to every grow accustomed to heartbreak or sorrow.
Ever.
Love to you guys.
Dana says:
Mike, I’m with you on the white-knuckled fear during ultrasounds. Ceej and I never truly enjoyed them. From the start it was always a breath-holding, angst fest – from the 6 week at the fertility doc up to our last ultrasound at 37 weeks…the one that sent me into the OR almost two weeks early. I still remember that feeling, and I GET IT – for a different reason, but I get it. I know that any future ones will have the same stigma. *Shakes head* I love you guys, and I wish it was different…a lot.
Meg says:
I hope absolutely all of your hardest days are behind you. Thinking of you guys.
Tara says:
My husband understands! I think in a way it’s even harder on dads. I felt so bad for my husband after our miscarriage, trying so hard to be there for me, everyone worried about me, and he was hurting too.
I want you to know that you are all in my thoughts and prayers every single day.
Melissa says:
I feel so late to this after just stumbling upon this blog, but after miscarrying last year, I’ve had nothing but anxiety and worry this time around so I completely understand the fears that go with every doctors appointment. I’ve tried so hard to relax and am working on meditating on the NOW and listening to positive affirmations but DAMN it’s HARD! This blog has been so helpful for me and I’ve shed quite a few tears watching the Maddie videos in the past hour and reading your posts. God bless you and your beautiful family, RIP gorgeous sweet Maddie and you have a faithful reader. Love, M.
Carrie says:
“There will be no savoring or enjoying any future pregnancy. There will only be white knuckle fear the whole nine months.”
That’s exactly how I felt after we lost our first. I was so excited with my first pregnancy, but it quickly became obvious that things were not going the way they should. After the miscarriage, I was devastated, but also determined to try again. Then we found out I was pregnant with twins, and I realized that pregnancy would never be something that I could relax and enjoy. I’m so fortunate that we have two happy, healthy nine-month-olds, but I’m not sure I could ever go through that again.