The Hardest Part Of An Early Miscarriage

I never thought I would have two miscarriages and no baby at the age of 32. I didn’t think lightening would strike twice but it did. Since the age of 18 I had been told my PCOS would make it difficult to have children. It was pounded into me at each yearly check up and I was prepared for whatever infertility issues would arise.

But no one told me that I could miscarry. Just as causally as my doctors told me it would be hard to conceive, why didn’t they tell me, ‘Hey, did you know that your chances of miscarrying are pretty high because it’s super common?’

I mean obviously I know why they don’t tell women that, it’s a total downer.

The hardest part

So here I am, two miscarriages in the last 6 months and I am finding myself feeling very empty. It’s been 4 weeks since I passed our child at home and I am feeling pretty raw. An early loss is very different from a second trimester loss. HUGE.

With James, I had more time with him. I felt his precious kicks and movements. We saw him dancing around on the ultrasounds. After my loss I got to hold my son and talk to him. I counted his fingers and toes over and over again. We named him. We have photos of him. We can say his name and people get it, they understand our loss.

But with early loss, it’s none of those things. I carried for 10 weeks but had a missed miscarrage. Which means my body never recognized the baby stopped growing at 5 weeks. I didn’t feel any kicks. We saw blobs on the ultrasound, no heartbeat. I miscarried naturally at home, the day before surgery was scheduled to remove the baby. So I didn’t have fingers and toes to count. I didn’t hold our baby and didn’t name it. It was all too early.

This is the toughest thing we have to wrap our heads around with this loss: we have nothing to hang on to. It’s a mind f*ck and it’s really messing with my head and my heart.

How can we remember an early loss?

There is a sense of needing closure, something tangible with this child. No gender and no name. It feels like we have left this creation that represented hope and our future, out in the middle of space, alone.

I asked for advice from my online support group called Hope Mommies and found comfort when I wasn’t the only feeling that something needed to be done. I had over 25 responses from mom’s that have been in the same situation.

The general consensus: creating an identity for your child will help you in the grieving process.

The women responded with some really great ideas, some women went with their gut feelings on gender, some just named the baby something gender neutral and others just left them in their nickname. With this loss, Bunny is a cute nick name and all but again, we have a son that got the royal treatment in remembrance.

I can’t celebrate my son and call him by his name but his sibling gets nothing. Talk about favoriting a child. Maybe it would have been different if I had an earlier loss first? I don’t know. But here we are, stuck in this part of what to do. How do we let this second child live on in our little family?

And who is to say we will ever have an earth child? This may be our only chance to name a child we made.

Listen to your gut

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The moment I found out I was pregnant, I knew it was a little girl. Before pushing my thoughts on Chris, I remembered I rolled over one night before he fell asleep and asked him what he thought we were having and he said ‘definitely a girl’. And he followed that with wide eyes and a goofy look of panic, “Ah! I don’t know what to do with girls!”

We thought this was our rainbow baby. Our chance at having a family on earth. So we have decided to go with our mommy and daddy instincts and give our baby a gender and name.

So, world…

Meet our daughter, Iris Marie Miller. We have buried her in the mountains and look forward to being reunited with our James and Iris one day.

Iris: In Greek mythology, Iris was the goddess of the rainbow, a messenger for Zeus and Hera who rode the rainbow as a multicolored bridge from heaven to earth. The color purple of an iris flower also represents ‘faith’.

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9 thoughts on “The Hardest Part Of An Early Miscarriage

  1. Kate Way says:

    Oh wow, your words express exactly the same way as I am feeling. I’ve had two miscarriages this year too. One at 12 weeks in May one at 8 weeks in September, and you’re right, having nothing to cling onto, is the hardest thing. It’s left me thinking, did it really happen. Was I pregnant… Yes I was because, I feel the sense of extreme loss every day. And the daily reminders of what you so desperately want are always there to beat you up that little bit more.
    Thank you so much for sharing this, I’m so sorry this has happened to you too. Life is so so unfair sometimes, but I find talking and sharing like this is really helpful. I wish you luck and hope you have a family of your own soon.

    • SnarkyBird says:

      Thank you Kate. I’m so sorry for your losses as well. And yes, I often wake up and feel like my last loss never happened because I don’t have anything to show for our second child. Hang in there and wishing you the best. Especially during the holidays.

  2. KT says:

    I understand how you are feeling completely. We have had 4 early losses (between 6-10 weeks) and one at 13 weeks. I wanted something tangible to remember them by and I ended up with a necklace with the infinity sign on it. It was inspired by the quote from TFIOS “Some infinities are bigger than other infinities.I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I’m grateful.”

    Now that I have my living rainbow baby, that means more to me than ever. All my children are part of my infinity. Hope you can find some peace over the holidays.

    • SnarkyBird says:

      I love that quote. So beautiful. I am beyond happy you have your rainbow baby. And thank you, the holidays have been hard. I found out Dec 22nd last year I was pregnant with James.

  3. Vicky says:

    I am so very sorry for your losses. My heart goes out to you. I too have PCOS and lost my first baby around 5-6 weeks. While I was told that I would have a hard time having a child because of PCOS, I never really believed it until I lost my first child. My second pregnancy was nerve wracking to say the least, but I’m now the mother to a 4 year old. I’ve often amazed at how insensitive people are when asking when I’m going to give my daughter a sibling, including family and friends who know of our loss. I want to scream that she has a sibling in heaven, but no one seems to want to acknowledge our first pregnancy. So I understand your loss and wish you all of the best, especially during this holiday season. May you and your find peace.

  4. Rukhsha says:

    I am so sorry for your loss. Wish there was something i could do or say to make you feel any better. I just had D&C a week ago. Lost my baby at 11 weeks and 4 days. I cried reading about your loss. I still cry to bed every night. I don’t know how people even deal with such loses. I have a 4 years old girl and a 20 months old boy and i m still in pain and my heart aches for the baby i lost. I have PCOS too but had both kids without any complications. So please don’t lose hope wnd faith in God. I will keep you in my prayers. May God bless you and your husband. May God give you a beautiful healthy baby by next year. Amen
    Lots of love and prayers for you both.

  5. Kat says:

    I just saw your post about James and his beautiful photos on a scary mommy blog post. Now reading about sweet Iris, my heart is aching for you again. I experienced my first miscarriage a month ago at 6.5 weeks. You are so absolutely correct that not having anything tangible is such a strange and terrible feeling. It can feel very invalidating. I’m extremely blessed to have already experienced one healthy pregnancy and to have my 2-year-old son and a wonderful support network. I hope that you have been surrounded by love and support as well. Thank you so much for your extraordinary bravery in sharing your photos and your stories. I am so deeply sorry for your losses and I pray that you and your husband will be blessed with a rainbow baby in your future.

  6. Michelle says:

    I’m so happy to have discovered you, Snarky Bird. I, too, had two losses (one at 12 weeks….the doctor who did the D&C said they couldn’t recover him….I had nightmares for weeks about losing Nilzito) and a year later at 6. Then we did have our Rainbow Baby, but last Dec I had a third miscarriage. What a rollercoaster. Especially since both sis-in-laws are pregnant while I still grieve relatively silently the baby who would be four months old. Perhaps the hardest thing for me is how everyone else around me moves on after these losses. I’m just getting back into eating right and exercising again….double whammy: about 1.5 mos after my due date I was in a pretty serious car accident that deterred me from being able to run my first 1/2 marathon in honor of our fourth baby (girl), Artemis.

    • SnarkyBird says:

      Wow Michelle, I’m so sorry to hear about your losses. I understand the sister in laws being pregnant. My twin sister and my husbands sister have had bookend pregnancies with both our losses. Hopefully, you are healing from the accident and hope you get back to your journey to health. I’m doing the same. I have a goal to lose 15 more pounds before we try again. Let me know if you ever need anything! 💜

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