And then there was Mother’s Day

I was trying to think what I’d do today to honor Mother’s Day. My gut was to come up with something clever and witty and give you a laugh. Then, when it was midnight last night and I was still awake, the things that came into my mind to compose weren’t necessarily funny. Because one’s journey to motherhood isn’t always fun or ideal. So instead, I’ll just tell you my truth and what my journey has been so far.

Brian and I got married in January 2011. It feels like a lot longer than 6 and a half years, to be honest. We got married when we were¬†barely 25 so we decided we’d wait a year or two before starting to expand our family. Baby fever set in quicker than I anticipated and as of 1/1/12 we decided our New Year plans would be to grow our family. By March I was pregnant and anticipating our first child to be born that December. I remember having a distinct thought about Christmas trees. Never again would there be a Christmas tree in our home that Santa Clause didn’t come visit and I thought that was the best thing ever. But those thoughts were dashed fairly quickly because somewhere around the 6-8 week mark I had a miscarriage. And it was one heck of a miscarriage. It started at the end of April and lasted until almost July. I miscarried for longer than I was ever pregnant for. And that’s how I spent Mother’s Day of 2012. Changing liners of what was supposed to be the first addition to our family and feeling sad. It’s very disheartening to have to go into the OB’s office every week for months to have hCG levels taken to see if they would continue to drop or if I’d need a D&C and to sit in the waiting room with happily pregnant people. I remember the day my levels came back a 3 and I was relieved it was finally over only to find that they were going to continue to make me come in until they were <1. I remember the nurse who took my blood that time exclaimed “for the love of God!” on my behalf.

But it finally ended and I took my OB’s advice and game my body the rest of July and August to recover and then yep- you guessed it- another positive pregnancy test in September. But, sadly, that didn’t last long either and I went through the same thing as just a couple short months earlier. But it happened sooner and lasted barely any time as the first one. I suppose my body knew I really couldn’t stand to draw it all out again.

October of 2012 was supposed to be a month dedicated to letting my body rest and recover. I remember my OB giving me a somewhat stern warning not to get pregnant immediately following a miscarriage as that made the miscarriage rate for the subsequent pregnancy higher. Maybe because the uterine lining isn’t very thick at that point…I’m unsure now what the medical specifics were but I remember that warning vividly. As it terrified me.

So naturally that meant that October would bring another positive pregnancy test. I truly didn’t mean for it to. I think my body had some crazy hormonal releases trying to reset and by Halloween weekend I realized I hadn’t had a period. It was a Saturday morning and Hurricane Sandy was preparing to blow through which was a big deal when we still lived in Norfolk. It was early….I took a pregnancy test not expecting anything because nothing was tried for and I let it sit in the bathroom for hours because I forgot about it. I finally remembered to go check it and there it was- 2 pink lines. But I had learned better than to get excited.

There was a lot at stake this time around because my OB had already educated me on the fact that 1 miscarriage was extremely common. 2 in a row wasn’t unheard of either. But 3 consecutive ones meant we had to do testing to see why my body couldn’t stay pregnant and that was a scary notion for me.

I won’t leave you hanging- that testing was never needed because the pregnancy of October 2012 resulted in one little Caleb Samsell being born 9 months later. But his pregnancy was not necessarily a thing of joy for me because I always had my guard up. I always assumed the worst. I’ve likely never been more terrified than at his first ultrasound as I just assumed there wouldn’t be anything there to show. I likely checked my pants for blood 50 times a day. It wasn’t until March- when I was 6 months pregnant- that I started getting excited because it took that long for me to finally accept “hey, this might work out after all.”

Not many people know those things. I think at the time it was just 2 supportive work friends, 1 compassionate supervisor, my mom, and my mother-in-law. People know those things now, years later, but not when they were happening. And I’ll be honest- I’m not exactly sure why. I don’t remember all of my emotional processing from that time but I think it likely boils down to lack of life experience and perspective. I’ve had a lot happen since then and would likely process things differently now.

Caleb was born in June 2013. I was pregnant with his sister by April 2014 and she was born in January 2015. So I’ve come a long way since my motherhood journey began in March 2012. I do not think about those miscarriages hardly ever, to be honest. And I hope that doesn’t offend anyone by making it seem as though I’ve trivialized the experiences because I haven’t. It still stings when I go to doctor’s visits and have to answer the question “how many pregnancies?” with “4” but the “how many living children” question with “two.” Mostly though, I know that Caleb Samsell is here because those back to back miscarriages happened, and there isn’t any possible way I could ever envision a universe in which he doesn’t exist.

So, wherever you are on your journey, Happy Mother’s Day. Hug your little ones a little tighter today, remember the ones who aren’t with you today but once were, and if you haven’t gotten there just yet, may it be all the more sweeter for you when you do.

Love and Motherhood,

Erin

Holler at me!