I had been married for five months when my husband and I decided we would like to try to have children. We were not in the most lucrative of circumstances. It was 2009, and the economy had just crashed. My husband and I had both just graduated before we married, and chose to move in with my parents while my husband searched for a job and finished up his honors thesis and an online course. Since then he had been to several career fairs, unemployment groups and had countless informational interviews. In less than a year he had had over 25 in-person interviews, but still he hadn’t landed a job. We were living in the loft. I was making dinners, taking care of my baby sister and driving kids to seminary every morning.
I was very eager to get out on our own. We knew we wanted to have children, and I was eager to move on with our life, even though life hadn’t been going our way. We didn’t have a job. I was on Cobra insurance as a wedding present but it only lasted a few more months. Still, after prayer and pondering we decided to try. In less than 2 months, I found out I was pregnant. I remember telling my husband and we were so happy. About a month later, my husband landed a great salaried job at a great company doing exactly what he wanted. Everything seemed to be going our way.
Since it was our first child, we really didn’t know anything. We hadn’t even told our parents we were trying to have children. I had a What to Expect When You’re Expecting book we read from every week. We knew we wanted to tell our family, but since miscarriage was common before 12 weeks, we decided to wait until then to tell our family. We didn’t end up waiting that long.
It was December, and somehow I had picked up an illness. I didn’t think much of getting sick at first, everyone gets a little under the weather during the winter months. Plus, I was pregnant, so it’s normal to feel a little unwell. Then my fever started, and it kept climbing. Normally, I would take medicine for a fever, but I didn’t want to take anything because I didn’t know if it would be bad for the baby. I was about 11 ½ weeks pregnant, and hadn’t seen an OB, yet. We were waiting until January when my husband had started his job, so it would be covered by insurance. My temperature got up to 105 degrees Fahrenheit. As I was living with my parents, they became concerned. The H1N1 flu was still very prevalent and my symptoms lined up. They inquired why I hadn’t taken medication to bring down the fever. So, we told them about the baby. Thankfully, they knew acetaminophen and ibuprofen were perfectly safe for pregnancy, and within an hour, my fever was down, and within a day or so, I was feeling much better.
My parents were so happy when they found out I was pregnant. They loved children, and couldn’t wait to be grandparents for the first time. The next week went by and they doted on me every second. I was feeling great. We had passed the 12 week mark, and I was still pregnant. I felt out of the woods. So, we decided to tell my husband’s parents about the baby. We were sitting in bed together, an extremely giddy couple, so excited to break the news to my in-laws that they were finally going to be grandparents. When we announced the big news, there was silence on the other end of the phone call. Then, “You’re pregnant?” An exclamation of disbelief from my mother-in-law. “Don’t you want to wait a little bit longer?” My heart sank, and all my excitement faded away into disappointment. The call continued with my father-in-law mentioning how we should have a job and a home before we had children, and how we needed to be on our own to get to know each other better as a couple. My mother-in-law mentioned she wasn’t ready to be a grandma. My heart was in disbelief. We weren’t calling them letting them know our plans, we were already pregnant! The baby wasn’t hypothetical; I was already carrying their first grandchild.
The next few days, I walked around in despair. It was a heavy burden to carry a child I so desperately wanted, knowing that that same child was not wanted by his grandparents. Unwanted. It was impossible to believe. Suddenly I felt a cloud of both shame and despair. Were we being irresponsible? I suddenly doubted a lot of my feelings about being secure and able to take on the world. But I still felt nothing but complete love and adoration for my growing baby.
Everything changed one night, though. I suddenly felt really bad cramping, that turned into painful cramping. I had never been in so much pain in my life, and I realized, I might be losing the baby. We didn’t want to go to the ER because we didn’t have any insurance, so my husband called an on-call nurse to ask questions. While he was trying to get a hold of someone, I went to the restroom and passed a lot of blood and clots. I flushed the toilet, knowing there was probably no way I was going to save this child. The nurse over the phone confirmed it. She said if I was bleeding that heavily, there was nothing they could do, that I just had to go through the process. I was having a miscarriage. I went back to the bathroom again and again as contractions were so painful. I searched after a large piece of tissue passed, hoping to find my baby, but it was just the placenta. I realized I must have flushed the baby down the toilet earlier. My heart broke, as I realized I’d never see my baby. I’d never know if it was a boy or a girl. I’d never get to show my husband or my parents the child I just lost. My husband and parents waited in the hallway while I agonized until it was all over, and then I went to bed.
The next week was one of the worst weeks. I was in shock, and disbelief. My husband mourned with me the first few days, but then it was just a silence. We stopped talking about it. I remember feeling angry most especially when we called my in-laws to tell them we lost the baby. They were apologetic. But I could only think how this is just what they wanted. They never wanted the baby in the first place, and now they won’t have to deal with it now.
Christmas was upon us in no time, and somehow I found it impossible to celebrate the birth of the Savior knowing He had just taken my baby back home. I cried when we reenacted the story of Mary and Joseph and the birth of their child. I wept as we read about all the children Harold killed in hopes to destroy the child King of the Jews. And I didn’t stop crying for months. All I ever wanted to be was a mother. What if I couldn’t ever have children? My husband supported me in my loss. He gave me space as we moved to a new state, into our first home, started our first job. I looked for employment, but I just wanted to be home. I just wanted to be a mom, so I didn’t try very hard. May 2010, Mother’s Day came. I was supposed to be 8 months pregnant. But I wasn’t. But I still felt like I was a mom. My husband didn’t even acknowledge the day. We drove up to visit my mom, and celebrated with her, but all the time, I thought about how much I wanted to be a mom, and how I really already felt like one, but no one else saw it that way. I cried a lot that day.
A week later, I found out I was pregnant again. And this time it stuck. Everyone was excited. Friends and family were congratulating us left and right. We had two or three baby shower celebrations. And then I was 8 months pregnant again. The one year anniversary of losing my child came. I spent all day thinking about my baby, the one I lost. I always felt she was a girl, even though I never got to confirm it. I mourned for her because I was carrying a baby boy. My husband didn’t even remember the day. In fact, he has never really talked about our first baby. Not because it’s painful, but because it was more like a dream than reality for him. He never really became a father until he held that baby boy in his arms for the first time. And then, finally, I was a mom. Only I’d already felt like I was one.
I still remember my baby girl, my Myra. It was the name we had planned to give our first girl. I never could use it after losing my first baby, though. In my mind, she is Myra. She’s the one I lost.