Father's Day Thoughts After a Miscarriage

Father's Day is a wonderful holiday, although it usually doesn't receive as much fanfare as Mother's Day.

When speaking of miscarriage, infertility, or other babies and children gone too soon, we often refer to Mother's Day as the "dreaded holiday" full of memories of what could have been, stark reminders of empty arms. I hope that you can read a few of my other posts here on this blog and information in my book, Lost Children: Coping with Miscarriage to help with these feelings. I'm bringing up this subject because I want to shine a light on a holiday that can be just as hard for a man who also has empty arms--Father's Day.

In my book, I have a special chapter,  
Husbands Have a Right to Grieve.
Here is an excerpt from that chapter:

Whenever someone mentions miscarriage, our thoughts usually turn to the woman who is suffering. She has gone through a terrible experience and we try our best to help and comfort her. But what about her husband?

The husband also has the right and need to mourn. He may experience some of the same or different emotions as his spouse. From my own experience, I remember I was so overwhelmed by my initial grief and pain that I couldn’t focus on anything else. I am so grateful my husband was able to explain to me that he was hurting too. Because he was willing to confide in me, my perspective shifted significantly so I was able to see that the suffering was not just my own, but ours to endure together.

It helped me to know that not only was my husband concerned about me, but he too was grieving the loss of our baby. He was not always as verbal about his feelings as I was. There were days I would forget he was grieving because he mourned in such a quiet way.

Men are very different from women emotionally, and particularly in how those emotions are expressed. Women usually find it therapeutic to verbalize their thoughts and emotions, whereas men tend to resolve them by thinking them out and bringing them to a mental resolution. Our differences can and should complement each other instead of causing discord.

Many women shared with me that their husbands wished someone would acknowledge they were hurting too. During my research, I have learned that many husbands often felt overlooked and forgotten during the mourning and comforting process. One man said, “It was my baby too and I am hurting just as much as my wife. I know it’s different but I’m not only hurting for the loss of the baby. I’m hurting for the pain my wife is going through.”

Even though husbands do have a need and a right to grieve, most will grieve differently than their wife. Because the woman experiences all of the physical changes of pregnancy and miscarriage, it is often hard for the husband to identify with the same emotions. He will likely feel grief, but he may not express his feelings as openly.

I talked to many husbands who felt they needed to be strong for their wife and family. Some felt that if they could temper their hurt and disappointment it would help their wife deal with the situation better.

You can read more on this subject in my book. My hope is to create awareness that it is not only the woman who suffers after a miscarriage. We can be sensitive to both the husband and a wife in this case and remember that even though women are the emotional creatures, men have feelings too.

With Father's Day approaching, I hope that you will have a chance to make new happy memories. If there is sadness in your life right now because of loss, I hope you can take a moment to ponder how you can help a father who has suffered and how you can both walk the healing path together.

If you have questions, feel free to email me: RachellethewriterAT gmail.com

Introduction of Lost Children: Coping with Miscarriage for Latter-day Saints

I'm posting the introduction of my book below. Please note that there have been some minor changes made to the published work. Lost Children: Coping with Miscarriage for Latter-day Saints is now available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Borders, and more bookstores near you.

Introduction

When I discovered I would become a mother I never imagined anything would go wrong. My husband and I were overjoyed and excited to be pregnant with our first baby. We had been married for almost two years and felt ready to start a family; so we immediately began preparing for the day when we could bring our baby home.

It was an exciting time. Each day I awoke with a smile, thinking about the new life within me. I immersed myself in baby books, magazines, and any information I could find about pregnancy and becoming a mother.

About six weeks into my pregnancy, I was overcome with fear and anxiety that something was wrong with my baby. I began crying uncontrollably. My husband was concerned for me, and asked me why I felt that way. I told him, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just emotional, but I’m afraid that something will go wrong with my pregnancy.”

He gave me a Priesthood blessing to overcome feelings of doubt and depression and I felt at peace. I went to my first doctor appointment for my ten week check-up and was told that everything looked good. My uterus was an appropriate size and I was in good health.

Over the next few days, I felt better and was once again excited about my pregnancy. We went shopping for a few maternity clothes. It was so fun to try on the little pregnancy pillow to see how I would look at five months pregnant. I thought back to all the Young Women lessons I had heard about the joys of motherhood and the sacred and specials blessings we as women are given to be mothers. My joy was full.

When I was about eleven weeks into my pregnancy, I began spotting. I called my doctor’s office and the nurses reassured me this was common for a lot of women. After it continued for a few days, I insisted on seeing the doctor.

I prayed constantly that all would be well, but I worried about the appointment. My doctor tried to find the heartbeat using the Doppler instrument for several minutes. When he couldn’t hear anything, he explained that sometimes it’s hard to find the heartbeat in the first trimester of pregnancy. He sent us over to the hospital for an ultrasound.

I was nervous as we were admitted to the ultrasound room. The radiologist worked quietly and passed the ultrasound transducer over my abdomen. He kept looking at the fuzzy black and white images with a furrowed brow. Then he asked me, “Have you been on any fertility drugs?”

Surprised, I said, “No, this was our first try at getting pregnant.”

He nodded his head and continued looking at the screen.

My husband and I watched anxiously as the radiologist enlarged the picture on the screen and three small sacs came into view.

“Is that triplets?” I asked in disbelief. He only nodded and then I observed him make a small X in each of the three sacs. My heart sank as I watched him silently working. He didn’t offer any explanation and I was too afraid to ask. All I could do was stare at the screen with the three X marks. I wondered if he was going to wait for our doctor to give us “the news.” My fears were confirmed when he finished the ultrasound and told us he would have some pictures for us to take back to our doctor in a few minutes.

I knew something was very wrong with my pregnancy. I had three sacs in my uterus but had heard no heartbeat. Still, because the radiologist had said nothing I held on to some insane shred of hope.

My husband and I returned to our doctor’s office with pictures of our ultrasound. The doctor looked them over and said, “I’m very sorry, but there was no heartbeat evident and no sign of a developing baby.”

He explained that I had been pregnant with triplets, but they looked to be possibly three separate blighted ova, a pregnancy failure which has occurred so early, no clearly defined fetal tissue has formed. He explained that sometimes a pregnancy ceases to develop several weeks before the uterus actually “miscarries.”

The doctor said that the gestational age looked to be about five or six weeks, which is too early to see a heartbeat. He asked that they draw my blood and then again in two days to check if the hCG or pregnancy hormones in my blood were dropping. This is how we would know for sure that I would miscarry because in a viable pregnancy the hCG levels double every two days.

He offered his condolences and told me to go home, rest and try to deal with the loss of our pregnancy. I didn’t receive any instruction as to what I could do to ease the process, just a warning that if the bleeding became too heavy I should head to the emergency room. 

When my husband and I returned home, I didn’t want to believe I was going to have a miscarriage. Somewhere in my mind, I argued that because I had not yet lost the pregnancy, there was still a chance my babies could survive. I prayed that things would look normal with my blood tests—that maybe something was off with my cycle and I wasn’t as far along as we thought. In the back of my mind, I think I knew the truth but I didn’t want to let go of hope.

I thought about all the family members who knew of our pregnancy and how excited we had been to make that announcement when I was about nine weeks along. How would we tell everyone we were no longer going to have a baby?

It was difficult for me to sort out my feelings. For the past eleven weeks, I had been on an emotional high, preparing to be a mother. It was hard to believe that it wasn’t going to happen. Physically, I felt fine and kept hoping some miracle would take place. At the same time, I could hardly believe I had been pregnant with triplets. What an amazing event! We couldn’t help but talk about what it would have been like to have three babies at once. My husband was still in college and I had recently graduated. So we told ourselves we could never have afforded three babies at once in our little trailer home. But this make-believe consolation didn’t offer any comfort.

After a few days, I experienced intense pain and cramping. I was bleeding heavily and couldn’t stop dry heaving from the pain. I called my husband at work and told him I needed help. He rushed home and took me to the emergency room.

That was the worst day of my life. I felt lost. While I waited in the emergency room, my body writhed with pain, which was all the more devastating because there would be no reward for any of it but sorrow.

After I was treated, we returned to our empty home. We were devastated. I spent an entire day lying on the couch crying and asking the Lord why He let this happen. My husband was deeply saddened by our loss. He worried for me and the pain I had gone through and the recovery ahead. After months of pure joy and excitement, we were now left with emptiness. We were in a young married student ward where almost every couple had children. I didn’t know anyone who had experienced a miscarriage, and I had never expected to go through this trial.

All the tears I cried could not wash away the insurmountable level of grief surrounding me. I received a priesthood blessing, but this did not completely take away my grief.

As I went through the grieving process, I was left with many unanswered questions. I wondered what had happened to my babies. Were they developed enough to house a spirit? I was told by many people that I would have a celestial baby to raise in the hereafter, but that didn’t bring me comfort because I couldn’t find church doctrine to support the claim.

            The following is a quote from my journal written a year after my first miscarriage:

“I felt prompted to write about how to deal with miscarriage because maybe I could help someone in need.”

At the time I didn’t know that the someone would be me. The Lord was preparing a way for me to face another challenge in my life.

Ten months later I wrote:

“The temple holds such a beautiful and peaceful feeling. It brings life into perspective. All I want is to have a baby. I know the Lord will bless us soon.”

After my miscarriage, people gave me all sorts of advice and although they meant well, much of it was misinformed. I struggled with going to church because it seemed there was always someone asking, “When are you going to have kids?” or offering suggestions and distorted doctrine. I searched for answers to my questions, received priesthood blessings, and met with my bishop to help me through the grieving process.

My husband and I were married for nearly five years before we were able to have our first baby. I experienced two miscarriages and problems with infertility. Finally, our first daughter was born on a beautiful April day nearly three years after my first miscarriage. Two years later in August, we were blessed with another beautiful daughter and three years later a son. Though nothing brings me more joy today than my children, I still remember the deep sense of longing and loss I felt when I had no children.

This is why I have written this book. I hope the information and experiences I have gathered from many books, doctors, and people who have experienced a miscarriage, stillbirth, or infertility will help you through your time of sadness. I realize there are many who have suffered greater tribulations than I have experienced. For this reason, I have studied diligently to uncover truths which I hope will also help you through your trials.

 I have a strong testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ and I know my Heavenly Father has a plan for me and for each of you. He loves us and He will never leave us, if we will but ‘come unto him.’

You're invited to my book launch

I'd like to invite you to the launch of this special book that has been years in the making. Lost Children: Coping with Miscarriage for Latter-day Saints is so important and dear to my heart.

I will be signing copies of Lost Children at the Orem, Utah Barnes & Noble on May 14, Friday from 6-8pm.
Please come and support this book that needs to be in so many people's hands. 1 in 4 women will experience a miscarriage and everyone will be touched by miscarriage, infertility, or stillbirth in some way--either personally or because it happens to someone we love.
Have you been looking for the perfect gift to give to that someone who is suffering? Have you been wondering how you could help, what you could say? This book is for you.

Please check back to read the first chapter of the book here on my blog.
Do you have questions about this topic or would you like to schedule a speaking engagement? Please contact me at Rachellethewriter AT gmail.com

Cover of Lost Children: Coping with Miscarriage for Latter-day Saints

I am so pleased with the cover of my new nonfiction book. I hope that you like it too. I am so grateful that this book will finally be available to so many people who have questions and need comfort or want to know how to comfort others suffering from a miscarriage.

Lost Children: Coping with Miscarriage for Latter-day Saints will be released May 8, 2010.

A New Year Is Born

It's difficult to begin a new year with a monkey on your back. It's hard to look forward with hope for accomplishing new goals with grief overshadowing each step.
It hurts to look at an empty calendar and feel the emptiness inside an abdomen that should be stretching, reaching toward that due date in March--the birth of the new spring--a beautiful time for a baby to be born. My first pregnancy--my first baby--was supposed to be born in March. I don't think I coped very well at the time, to the days passing, months passing, and all I had to carry with me was emptiness as I didn't conceive. My baby's due date passed, an entire year passed, and still I wasn't pregnant.

That was nine years ago. Nine years ago that I started a new year that passed without fulfilling my hope of becoming a mother.Sometimes I wish I could go back in time and whisper to myself, "Rachelle, you will become a mother on April 29, 2003. It will be one of the happiest days of your life."
But I can't do that and it's probably for the best. The experiences that shaped me, that shape each one of us, make us who we are.

I hope that you will look up at that cloud of grief shading you from the sun and find strength to face this new year. Make some goals. They can be simple, they can be complex, but they must be goals that you will strive to achieve. Work towards goals to keep yourself growing through life's experiences to become your true self that lies hidden in the tears of sorrow, adversity, and grief--the true self that is strong enough to overcome this trial and face another year.

If this is your new year facing loss, please reach out to someone for help and comfort. Leave a comment, send an email to rachellethewriterAT gmail.com if you'd like, and keep reading this blog. I will continue to update through the year with more of my story and tips to help you as we approach the release date of my book in May 2010- Lost Children:Coping with Miscarriage.

Fading Scars

(c) Rachelle J. Christensen

As a child I was lucky I guess because I never broke any bones and only had one stitch. When I was one year old, I fell onto the sharp edge of a coffee table and split my upper lip open. One stitch sealed it up and no one was the wiser. The scar faded and I remember I'd have to look hard to see the fine white line just below my nose if I wanted proof of my one stitch.

That was quite a few years ago and with time and lots of exposure to the sun, that little scar has become more noticeable. I still remember feeling shocked when someone asked me, "How did you get that scar?"

It's still very faint, just one slanted line not even a 1/2 inch long, but when I've been out in the sun a lot it seems to be a bit more noticeable.

So why am I telling you about my little inconsequential scar? I'm telling you about it because even though it's very small, at most times invisible to the average onlooker, it's still there. I still have a scar and nothing short of plastic surgery will ever take that scar away.

I have other scars from the miscarriages I experienced, from the period of infertility I suffered through, from the emotional hurt inflicted by others. At first the wounds were deep, the scar ugly and painful, but with time they healed.

The scars began to fade, but interestingly enough at times the scars seemed more visible. Like the times when I would sit with other women and listen to them talk about their children, or watch a new mother cradle her infant in her arms while I felt the emptiness of my arms sagging weightlessly to my sides. At these times, the scars seemed to flash with a raw pain that was hard to hide.

Over time I was able to hide my scars more effectively. I became highly skilled at deflecting hurtful comments and changing the subject. But those hidden scars still pulsed with a pain that had to be dealt with. It was only when I faced those scars head-on and saw them for what they really are--a part of me--that I could fully heal.

I still have scars, but they don't hurt me like they used to. Certain things trigger memories that make me think of my scars and just like I sometimes notice the faint line above my lip while I'm applying my makeup, at times I ponder the situations that created other scars in my life.

The healing process is important. As I wrote my book, Lost Children: Coping with Miscarriage, each chapter seemed to apply a comforting salve to old scars. Understanding and friendship with others who experienced some of the same things helped me greatly.

I learned that nothing anyone could do or say could erase the scars of miscarriage. I will carry those scars with me throughout my entire life, but I'm no longer burdened by them. They have faded to fine lines which sometimes ache, but mostly serve as a reminder of how precious life is and the strength God has given me to overcome.

Holiday Heartaches

The holidays are a busy, wonderful time of year and for many people are full of memories of good times with family. When you pull out the turkey platter and then the Christmas ornaments in a few weeks, perhaps you'll experience a wave of nostalgia for the holidays in the past.

For some, holidays are hard to bear because in the midst of family celebrations they are reminded of the family they have lost. I'm sure you've known someone who had a difficult time feeling the joy of the season because it served as an acute reminder of someone who wasn't there.

After my first miscarriage, I remember crying at Christmas because I should've been pregnant. I should have been able to sit by the Christmas tree and place my hands on my swollen abdomen and feel joy in the life growing within.

And then the next Christmas I cried because not only did I not have a baby, but I still wasn't pregnant.

I was not in a constant depression, but during the holidays I felt the loss a little more keenly as I thought of the memories we would have been making with our child.

I've mentioned The National Share Organization before and I want to give you a link to a wonderful blog post I found there by Cynthia Prest.
She talks about living in the present and I think this is so true.

I hope that this holiday season if you have reason to mourn that you might give yourself the best present of all--take time to grieve, but also take a moment to live in the present. Give yourself this gift to enjoy the present without the past or the future clouding your festivities.

It's difficult I know because it was something that took me some time to learn and I still need reminders for. Life doesn't always cooperate with my plans but I can still find joy in the present.