I experienced a late-term miscarriage.
The loss of our son was a devastating and terrifying event. At 18-weeks of being pregnant, I was told I must deliver my child, but that he would certainly not make it.
Here I share my story with you.
A little over a month ago I was 17-weeks pregnant. I was healthy, growing, and knee-deep in morning sickness. My doctor appointments confirmed I had an active baby boy. I announced to my family I was having a baby and was beginning the process of buying baby gear and clothes. My 3-year-old daughter was getting excited for her baby brother. My husband and I were over the moon excited to have a son.
A few days later, after finding out that we would be having a boy, I also found out that my placenta had formed unusually low.
My doctor said it would not pose any threats, aside from needing extra ultrasounds. He advised me to lay low for a few days. I had experienced a couple of bleeds due to some blood clots, but every time I was checked, all looked good. One morning, at the end of 17-weeks of pregnancy, I woke up with a high fever and severe cramping. I knew something was off. I made a doctor appointment and canceled my trip to see my family.
I won’t go into all the details, but essentially I was transferred from my doctor’s office to a perinatal ultrasound specialist at the hospital, who then informed me that I was having a miscarriage. I thought I had the flu or some cold, but I had actually gone into pre-term labor due to an infection in my uterus.
The moment I was told my son wouldn’t make it, I immediately burst into tears. My husband was at home with my daughter. I felt so alone. So scared. The doctor had to inform him of the situation over the phone. I couldn’t even talk to him or explain anything.
I felt like I couldn’t even breathe.
I was then transferred to the labor and delivery floor, where I was told the unthinkable: I would have to deliver my son, who would die in the process. My mind couldn’t fathom the horror. I was angry, sad, and holding out hope that somehow, some way, I could have a healthy baby boy.
Moment by moment, I pushed through it, only with the help of my husband and the amazing medical team. My awesome husband showed me pictures of my daughter on his phone, which was the only thing that calmed me down. I was on a roller coaster of sadness and I couldn’t get off. I had to ride it all the way, for everyone in my life I loved.
I did it. I delivered my son. He didn’t make it, just as I had been told would happen. We got to hold him, take pictures of him, and name him Dominic. He was more perfect at 18-weeks than I could have ever imagined.
Losing a child through miscarriage was one of the saddest experiences I have ever faced and my life has been changed forever.
Our family will always remember Dominic. We have a box of his memories and pictures that will always remind us of how amazing he was. We pray for him on a regular basis and my daughter loves to display her “keepsake” memories of him on her bed. Our marriage is stronger than it ever has been. I admit I took my husband for granted prior to this tragedy. Even my faith has grown stronger. While I have very hard days and experience moments of intense sadness, my life perspective has changed. I feel like my priorities have been set a bit more straight.
I was tremendously touched by the sincere support from the hospital, who treated our loss with so much dignity. My gratitude for my husband and daughter has grown exponentially and they are the reason I get out of bed every day. My heart was comforted by the many friends and family who reached out to us.
My reason for writing this post is not to scare women out there who are expecting a child. Rather, it is to share my story with those who have lost a child, whether through a miscarriage, stillborn, or any other type of loss. My heart goes out to you if you have experienced this loss. I think often of the strength of other mothers out there who have overcome this loss and continue to press on in life.
I am lying in my hospital bed tonight, having experienced pretty much the exact story you have. I needed so much to read this. I feel so lonely here writing to you in the dark. I had issues with my low lying placenta also, which had detached slightly and they believe set up a chain of reaction. Although through all my scans I was reassured of the health of my baby and this might resolve – even this morning – my body just wouldn’t let me keep him. I went into labour and the horror of having to experience that, to push, knowing that he would not survive has utterly destroyed my heart. He was 17 weeks old. I tried so hard to stop the labour but no one could. I held and kissed him, and he looked so much like his older sister. I held his tiny hands and he looked peaceful. My heart is so broken. Thank you for sharing your story. Thank you because in my moment of darkness, in the loneliest saddest day of my life, I looked for stories like this and I felt less alone. Love to you and your family xx
Hi Nicole.
I’m lying here in bed and it’s 3:40 am and I just got notification of your email. My heart is breaking for you and I know the severe pain you are in. There is nothing in the world like it. I’m so sorry- truly- from depths of my soul. I see you. I know it wasn’t easy to post a comment and it feels incredibly vulnerable. But I’m glad you did because now we are connected. I’ll be praying for you and your baby. There are no words other than I understand. Again, praying. Ugh. Im so sorry. You sound like an amazing Mom. Brave, tough, a fighter. Im thankful you got to hold him.
Sweet mama, I’m so sorry for your unimaginable loss. Thank you for sharing your beautiful and heart wrenching story of little Dominic. Sending hugs.
Thanks Melissa. I truly appreciate your kind words. 🙂
Thank you for sharing Tiffany. My miscarriage story is nearly identical to yours. I too am grateful for the changes it has made in my life. My keepsake box is also how I remember my little Johnny. Just shows how many of us there are in the world. God Bless.
Hi Amanda, I am so sorry to hear. I love that name, Johnny. I do hope your recovery process has been full of comfort and love. Thank you for your comment.