Miscarriage October 2013

This post will have no pictures.

This post will not have a fun and lighthearted feel to it.

This post is sad.

This post is about the miscarriage I had in October of 2014.

I was working for my chiropractor, Dr. Kurt A. Armstrong at the time. I woke up at 6:30 and got the kids up and moving for school like I did everyday. Then I proceeded to get myself ready for work. Upon using the bathroom, I realized my period came, but it wasn't like it usually is. It was here and here a lot. Usually things start slow for a day or so and then things get more intense. Not this day. It was weird.

I hopped in the shower and got dressed. While doing my hair I had to go to the bathroom again and change my gear. This was less than 30 minutes after I got out of the shower. My gear was full. Odd.

I got cleaned up, did my make up and make sure the kids were ready to go. (I'll grab some breakfast on the way to work after I drop them off, I thought to myself). Wait...I have to go to the bathroom again...ugh.

My gear was full...again.

Umm, something's not right.

After cleaning up and changing my gear again, I grabbed my phone and opened the app that I tracked my periods and ovulation on. Hmm, I was a couple of weeks late. But I often have irregular periods so I wasn't really sure if it meant anything. All I knew was, IF I was pregnant, I probably wasn't anymore considering how much I was bleeding. But I wasn't in pain, so I gathered my stuff and headed off to take the kids to school and go to work. (we usually leave the house around 7:35) Just as we pulled into the school parking lot at about 7:50, I felt a sudden need to find a bathroom, and fast! But I knew if I stopped again I would make myself late to work. So I just dropped them off and decided to drive to work and go to the bathroom and handle everything when I got there.

Upon arrival, (about 30 minutes later, around 8:20) I all but ran into the building to the bathroom. There, I realized I needed to change my gear AGAIN and clean up. 

After I was done, I proceeded to get to work, knowing for sure now that I wasn't just having a late period, but that I had to have been miscarrying. The only time I ever bled like I was in the past was when I miscarried. At this point, I was alone at work. No one was there to relieve me, but I knew someone (the chiropractor's wife) would be in when the doctor came in, so I decided to just wait for her to get there. I had one item of gear left, and I knew that wouldn't last very long and that I needed to go home. I was starting to feel weak and knew I needed to go home and rest.

9:00 rolled around and our first patient had arrived, as did the doctor and his wife, Rhonda. I checked the patient in and went to the back to tell Rhonda that I needed to use the bathroom and asked her if she could cover the front so I could go. (I was the receptionist)

She said yes and I, again, all but ran to the bathroom. Yeah...I need to go home. Clean up, change gear and go...that's the plan.

As I walked to the front, I felt queasy and unbalanced. I made my way up to the front and told Rhonda that I needed to go home and why. She pitched a fit because she had other work to do and didn't have time to do my job as well. She angrily said that she didn't even know I was pregnant and that I should have said something. She asked me to stay until 10 so she could get some stuff of her own done.

Nearly crying, I agreed and pulled all of the charts I could for her to make her job easier for the morning. I checked in more patients and just sat as much as I could. I did my job, but I wasn't up and down like I usually was. Some patients that came in noticed I wasn't feeling well and asked if I was okay. I did my best to just nod and say I was fine, but I was really dying inside and felt physically ill.

Finally 10:00 rolled around and I got up and went to the back office to let her know I needed to leave. She eventually came up to the front and asked for a report on who was here, who was checked in and what still needed to be done for the day. I stood filling her in for another 10 minutes or so, and just as I turned to leave she asked me if I would be in for work the next day.

"Umm, I don't think so..."

Big heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry Rhonda."

I walked away and let the emotions flow. Out the back door and to my car where I sat and cried for a couple of minutes before heading home. She and I were friends before I worked for her and her husband. She was being so harsh, so mean. And what's worse, she had miscarried before and knew what I was going through, physically and otherwise.

Tuesday afternoon I text Rhonda to let her know that I hadn't yet passed the baby, so I would be staying home on Wednesday as well. Her response didn't seem very happy.

Thursday the office was closed, so I was able to take that day off as well without feeling the guilt of having to have Rhonda cover for me again. That was the day the pain and cramping came. That was the day I ran to the bathroom every 20 minutes or so for hours feeling like I needed to poop but couldn't. That was the day I passed the baby.

Luckily I had already arranged for my in-laws to pick the kids up from school for me. They were already doing it for my work schedule, so I just called them Thursday morning and told them I was home sick and asked if they could do it again and I would have Tim pick them up when he was done working for the day.

I text Rhonda and let her know I had passed the baby.

I sat in the living room and cried and cried and cried, wondering why this had to happen, again. I miscarried once before I got pregnant with Alana. And again before I got pregnant with Brayden. Now this time. And this time the bleeding was so much more intense. I felt like it was only by the grace of God that I was able to get my kids to school, get myself to work and home from work and keep from punching my boss in the nose for being so mean that day.

Somehow he knew what I needed at that time. Somehow he knew I would need strength. 

As I sat alone in my living room, crying and confused, I felt overwhelmed by the phrase, "BY THE GRACE OF GOD." It came to my mind over and over again and I replayed the weeks events over and over in my head.

Grace.

His grace was sufficient. 

That had to be her name. I don't know why. I don't even know for sure if it was a girl. I would have been barely 6 weeks along. I just knew then and there that that baby's name was Grace.

That week helped me realize that I needed to listen to my body more than I was. That week helped me to realized that I was worth being taken care of, or worth the time to take care of myself. That week helped me realize that my place was in the home and not away from it working full time. That week helped me realize that I am blessed beyond measure and that I am loved.

That week helped me realize that the plan of salvation isn't always clear, but it is real and I will meet that baby, and the others I've lost, again someday and get to be their mom.

By the end of the month, I had given my letter of resignation to my boss. The stress and toxic environment I worked in was not something I needed in my life anymore. They were good people, but that day I realized that they were better as my friends than as my employers.

(side note: I took the Friday off after I lost the baby too. That didn't go over very well with my boss, but oh well.)