Results After Dealing With Trauma

*** Warning ⚠️ this may trigger some trauma. This blog gives extreme details of a miscarriage that you may or may not want to read about. Read at your own risk * July 13, 2014, I had a terrible miscarriage on our bathroom floor. The day before I went to the doctor, and she said she was 80% sure it was a miscarriage, but she wanted to give the baby every shot she could. She sent me home and put me on bed rest. She explained everything that would happen next if indeed it was a miscarriage. Everything she said was going to happen, did that night, but what she didn’t prepare me for is what happened next. On the morning of July 14th, I talked to my doctor and told her I thought the baby had passed from everything she explained. She agreed. We just sat around all day sad, but really I just wanted everything to be over. Later that night my body went into labor. Everything that happened before would not ever prepare me for what was to come. I had no idea what was happening; remember, I thought the worst was over. I begin to have extreme cramps that were nothing like being in labor with Myles. I tried waking Myon, but he’s a hard sleeper. Ok I thought, I can do this. I couldn’t, I had to wake him. Finally, I get him up to try to explain to the best of my ability what was happening. We go to the bathroom floor I just layout because I can't move. I keep telling him something is stuck and can you just pull it out. We laid there on our bathroom floor with him trying, but it’s our baby and it’s literally coming apart in his hands. He looked me dead in my eyes and said he couldn’t do it. My heart sank because Myon is the strongest person I have ever met. He cleans up the kid's vomit without a flinch. You got a broken bone, no problem he’s got you. He asked the doctors could he watch my c section, they said no but he peeked anyway! But as we laid on that floor and he said he couldn’t do it I knew we were in trouble. This was my time to carry him like he has carried me all of these years. I told him to help me get up. I sat on the toilet and had to push out our deceased baby into the toilet. 6 years of reliving that moment. Sulking in that pain. What could I have done differently? Every year on that day I’ve grieved the loss of our baby hard. I’ll lock myself away in the room for the day and cry. I try to be positive like I’ve had 2 other babies since then and God knows best, but none of that has really helped me. This was no ordinary miscarriage, this was trauma. This is what medical experts are trained to do not everyday people. This year was the first time I didn’t feel extreme sadness. Why? What was different? Healing. Healing is what is different. Therapy made it different. I will always love that baby. I always felt an emptiness inside of me, but I have truly dealt with my emotions in therapy. I have made sure to do my homework. I wrote a letter to our unborn child to tell it how much I truly love them. How I wanted them and no matter what, they are forever with me. The way my therapist listens and gives advice has given me so much peace. Like real peace. Every sense of guilt left. The guilt that I took that baby for granted. The guilt that I didn’t go for prenatal care fast enough. The guilt of in those moments we should’ve tried to make it to the hospital. Every possible lie I could’ve told myself I did. Truth is, I could’ve gone for prenatal care as soon I found out I was pregnant, but I still would’ve lost that baby. I could have tried to make it to the hospital, but I wouldn’t have. No other child will make up for that child, period. However, I can still count my blessing that I was able to love on him or her for those short weeks. I got to talk to them and comfort them. That miscarriage was the worst experience of my life, but now I can take that pain and thank God for my husband in those terrible moments. Trauma is something people definitely need to deal with. I will forever be an advocate for therapy. It has been life-changing for me. Facebook memories can be a blessing and a curse. Years, before I would've checked my memories for the day, went back to bed, and cried. This year I looked, I acknowledged, and I moved on with my day. Someone needs to know it WILL be okay; you will get through it.