Samantha’s Miscarriage Story

This story of miscarriage comes from Samantha Baca who is a mom-blogger and is married with two beautiful girls born 15 months apart. She has a full-time job but works from home part time to care for her daughters. She strongly values communication and has utilized her skills in this area to build her blog, Sarcasm Wine Repeat.

Samantha’s miscarriage story moved me, because I completely understood what she was feeling at various moments during her miscarriage journey. Though very different from my own miscarriage story, hers reflects the same irrevocable heartbreak every mama experiences following the realization that her unborn baby’s life has ended.

It is my hope that stories like Samantha’s will continue to be openly shared so that every mama going through this tragic experience can find comfort in the words of women who have made it through.

I always knew that I wanted to be a mom, but the moment that I saw those two bright pink lines staring back at me, I had immediate feelings of panic. An unplanned pregnancy with someone I had been dating for 9 months was not how I had planned my transition to motherhood.

There were feelings of not knowing what to do and doubting if I was ready to be a mother. I never considered terminating the pregnancy, however, I felt that I needed to wrap my head around the life changing event that had presented itself to me.

I immediately began taking pre-natal vitamins and scheduled my first pre-natal appointment. They were unable to confirm how far along I was and sent me for a dating ultrasound.

I was so nervous and anxious for the ultrasound as I allowed every possible worst-case scenario to creep into my mind. What if I’m not really pregnant? What if there are multiple babies? What if something is wrong with the baby?

I was very familiar with miscarriage, having had family and friends who had suffered one, and knew that there is a high chance of having a miscarriage during the first trimester.

What if I’m not really pregnant? What if there are multiple babies? What if something is wrong with the baby? I was very familiar with miscarriage, having had family and friends who had suffered one, and knew that there is a high chance of having a miscarriage during the first trimester.

At the dating ultrasound they were able to confirm that I was close to 7 weeks pregnant and we were able to see and hear the heartbeat. Because I wasn’t a high-risk pregnancy, I wouldn’t have another ultrasound until the 12-week scan and genetic testing.

I did my best to make sure I was taking care of myself by drinking plenty of water and getting rest as often as I could as well as going to my pre-natal appointments.

Right around the 12-week mark I noticed that I had started to feel mild menstrual cramps one night before bed. I casually mentioned to my mother that I felt like I was going to start my period. I went to bed, hoping that some rest would alleviate the discomfort.

The next morning, I woke up to the same cramping (very mild) and some light spotting. I called my provider’s office and the nurse asked a series of questions before assuring me that everything was normal.

She had advised that the cramping was likely due to the quick growth of my uterus and possibly dehydration, she advised that I drink plenty of water and rest. The spotting she attributed to recent intercourse and was nothing to worry about.

She ended the phone call by saying, “You’re healthy and having a healthy pregnancy. Plus, you’re already at the 12-week mark so you’re past the point of worrying about a miscarriage. If the cramping gets worse, you can take some Tylenol. And if the bleeding gets worse, be sure to come in.”

I spent the day trying to rest and take it easy but found that the cramping was getting stronger and that I was experiencing intense lower back pain. I also just didn’t “feel pregnant” anymore.

That evening I was hanging out at my sister’s house with a small group of friends when I went to the bathroom and found bright red blood when I wiped. Instinctively, I knew what was happening.

Mentally, I didn’t want to accept it. I started to cry, and my sister tried to comfort me that it may not be a miscarriage, to try to stay calm and see what happened. I put a panty liner on and went to join my friends and try to relax.

An hour later the cramping and back pain had gotten so bad that I decided to take the Tylenol and lay down to rest. After an hour of laying down, I felt the need to use the restroom and got up.

As I tried pulling down my pants in the bathroom, I felt a quick rush of fluid and tried to sit down as quickly as I could to avoid making a mess.

I don’t remember seeing so much blood at any one time in my life as what I saw in the toilet. I knew at that moment that I had lost my baby and that I was having a miscarriage.

My sister got a few people together and they drove me to the emergency room as I cried the entire way there. My mind became foggy at that point and everything became a blur.

I remember constantly being in the bathroom in the waiting room as there was so much blood and I kept bleeding through pads. I would look at the toilet and see blood and pieces of gray stuff that, at the time, I didn’t know what it was.

They were able to get me into a bed rather quickly and I sat there bleeding consistently in a hospital gown while waiting for the doctor to do the exam that would confirm the inevitable.

My boyfriend at the time sat in a chair in the corner next to me, on his phone and not really engaged with what was happening. It was the loneliest feeling in the world. I knew that just outside the doors in the lobby were my parents, sister, and best friend, anxiously waiting to know what was happening.

In hindsight, I would rather have had my mom and sister in the room with me instead of my boyfriend, as they would have given me the support I was needing that I wasn’t getting from him.

I didn’t know how hard it would be and I encourage every woman to make sure they have the support they need through every step of their pregnancy.

The doctor finally came in and did the exam and confirmed that I had in fact had a miscarriage.

I laid there, completely exposed and vulnerable, while he used medical instruments to pick pieces of tissue off my cervix to try to get the bleeding to stop. The tissue got stuck on my cervix which was preventing the bleeding from stopping and why I was losing so much blood.

After he was done, I was sent for an ultrasound to confirm that everything had passed. I asked my boyfriend to step outside and get some fresh air and asked my mom to be with me for the ultrasound. She gladly accompanied me and held my hand every step of the way.

The ultrasound tech was very compassionate and treated me with so much empathy. She asked if she could help clean me up as I had blood stained down my legs that hadn’t been cleaned off. She warned me before doing the ultrasound that I would hear what sounded like a heartbeat, but that it was only the fluid nearby.

The ultrasound confirmed that everything had passed. I was sent back to the ER room and met with the nurses who walked me through what to expect over the next few days.

I was to go for a blood draw in a few days to make sure that the hormone levels were dropping back to normal; they gave me the paperwork to take with me. They also talked me through the continued bleeding that I would have for a few days and that I may continue to see pieces of tissue that would be expelled as well.

I was to come back if the bleeding continued past a certain amount of days or if I experienced any large blood clots. They gave their condolences as I got dressed and grabbed my belongings to leave.

I wore clothes that earlier that day cradled the swelling of my baby bump and now hung loosely on me as that swelling had disappeared.

I left the hospital around 4 or 5 in the morning, completely exhausted on every level. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. My entire world felt like it had been shattered in less than 24 hours.

I hadn’t planned the pregnancy, but I loved the baby the moment I knew I was having one. Aside from the feelings of being scared and unsure, I wanted that baby more than I ever wanted anything.

I felt a wide range of emotions over the next couple of weeks as I tried to go through the process of what had happened.

I was angry. No, I was furious. I was furious at my provider’s office for assuring me that everything would be okay and disregarding me when I told them something was wrong.

I was furious at my boyfriend for not being the support that I needed and for not feeling as devastated as I was about losing the baby. I was furious with myself for not being able to take care of and protect my own baby.

I was furious that people referred to it as me “losing a baby”. It’s not a set of keys. I didn’t misplace it.

I was furious that people told me that the baby was in a better place because I took that to mean that there was somewhere better for the baby than with me, a mother who already loved it so much and would do anything for it.

Part of the process with going through a loss is to allow yourself to feel what you need to feel and to find the resources that you need to help you through it.

For me, I had a wonderful support system with my family and close friends. My parents took care of telling my extended family the news when it happened.

I had women who opened up and shared their stories with me, as well as had a few who told me they never really saw a miscarriage from my point of view and that it opened their eyes on how hard it is to go through.

I think most people think about miscarriage as something so common that a woman doesn’t go through as much grief the earlier it happens in her pregnancy.

I have only had one miscarriage so I can’t say whether it is different based on if it happens really early in the pregnancy or really late. I would like to think that it’s as excruciatingly painful no matter how far along you are.

Once you know you are pregnant, you are pregnant. You still suffer the loss.

You will always wonder who that child would have been. You will silently talk to a baby that is no longer here with you. You will think about possible birthdays and what school year they would be starting. You imagine a life they were never given.

My miscarriage happened in 2008 at 12 weeks 1 day into my pregnancy. Eleven years later, I am happily married to a wonderful man who is incredibly supportive, and we have 2 very beautiful and healthy little girls.

He loves and supports who I am and who I was. What I’ve gone through and the heaviness of what it’s like to lose a baby. He had experienced loss with a previous partner and it was comforting to hear him talk about it.

We forget that it’s not just the woman who feels the pain with a miscarriage. It impacts the father. It impacts their family.

While I was the only one who physically suffered the loss, my family went through it with me. My parents lost a grandchild. My sister lost a niece or nephew. We all lost something that we really wanted. We all went through a grieving process.

Be there for one another. Support each other. Go through the process together.

They say there is strength in numbers for a reason. That’s because going through a miscarriage on your own is an incredibly hard thing to do. Don’t be too proud to lean on others and allow them to be there for you.

And remember that just because the baby isn’t here with us doesn’t mean that it doesn’t live forever in our hearts.

If you are going through a miscarriage right now, my heart goes out to you. There are so many women like Samantha and myself who understand your pain.

I echo Samantha’s advice to find support and be open to accepting help, even if the most helpful thing is simply a listening ear.

If you are currently in the aftermath of a miscarriage and considering trying to conceive again, read my post on what it’s like trying to conceive after a miscarriage here.

Please remember that even though you will never stop loving and missing your miscarried baby, you will get through this moment in time and you will have joy again.

Don’t forget to share this story on social media so that other grieving mamas might be comforted.