November 2, 2012

Pregnancy #3

I had a miscarriage last week.

I didn't really know how to start this post, but I guess that's as good of way as any - just cut to the chase.

From the day I found out I was pregnant (September 12th) until now I have been keeping a word document with just some ramblings that I planned to share one day. I had hoped I'd be sharing them in several more weeks after announcing our third pregnancy. After announcing that while nervous, we were also incredibly excited that Finn would maybe have a sibling come next May.

But unfortunately that won't be the case.

I think I'll go backwards in those entries and maybe share some of what I had written about pregnancy #3. I'm not really sure how much I will share (there isn't very much anyway), but this blog has always been pretty therapeutic for me when I share things of a personal nature. Give a little get a little I guess.

The below portion was written early in the morning on October 26th - one week ago. I couldn't sleep. I had just had a D&E the day prior.


Miles said it best. “This is heartache, not heartbreak.”

I agree.

Because our hearts have been broken before.

But what that means now is that my broken heart is all achy. And I don’t like that. But I know it will pass. I can genuinely know that in time, I will feel better.

I didn't know that with Cale. All I knew was that each day I had to survive. I didn't know life would get easier and I would move forward and function again. Because my life had stopped cold in its tracks. I didn't want to go forward. I didnt want to function. I just wanted my baby back.

That’s not so much the case this time. Cale was a perfect baby. Seven pounds of beauty. Fully developed and fully formed and within days of coming home with us. There was nothing wrong with him. He was a baby that should have been in our lives. This was a baby that could have been, but wasn't. So much that still needed to happen. So much that could have changed things. I will always struggle to not have my should-have-been life. I don’t think I will struggle as much with what could have been. It doesn't hurt as bad. It hurts. But not nearly as bad.

Part of me can logically work through all this. I was just about 10 weeks. First trimester miscarriages are common and sadly, they do happen for a reason - be it a chromosome abnormality or whatever the case, something wasn't developing right for that baby so things ended. I can look through my family and those around me and know that lots of people have been through this before me.

But the whole strength in numbers thing isn't giving me much comfort right now. Certainly not much strength. Because lots of people can’t say “Three pregnancies. One Stillbirth. One Miscarriage. Just one healthy baby.” But I can. And I hate that. (and then on the flip side far too many people can say that. Or add to it.) I just don't like checking the box of yet another type of loss. I hate how it makes me bitter and jealous. More bitter and jealous I should say. One of my friends said “it makes me all ragey angry for you.” I get that. And I hate knowing that trying again doesn't mean I’m immune to any of it. And that scares me.

It does make my heart especially heavy for those who struggle to get pregnant and then experience loss – in any shape. Those poor, poor souls who take years and treatments and pay fortunes . . . only to lose it all. Either in a “common” fashion or in a horribly rare and unexpected way. How sad. I’m so sad for them.

But who knows. Maybe that’s us next. Maybe our luck in the getting pregnant department will dry up too.

(That’s the woe-is-me talk taking over)

I just wish I was normal. 

I just wish it didn't have to be so hard to create a family. Or hurt so much in the process.


A little time, and a lot of perspective (mostly due to Cale), has already made this experience easier. Easier to accept. Easier to move on from. Easier to live with.

I'm sad and I feel set back. But I don't feel broken and defeated. We'll take some time and see what is best for us in terms of what's next.

Please don't ask when we will try again. Or ask if I'm pregnant yet. Please don't ask anyone those questions. It's all incredibly personal. And there's so much more to it than a simple answer.

One day we hope to share happy news again. But it's our news to share when the time is right. And if we are  even lucky enough to be able to share it. For now, we will see. We have a fun and beautiful almost 17 month old boy. That's already a lot to be thankful for.


  1. Caroline- I'm sorry to hear this news. When I read the title I got excited. When I read the first sentence I was just sad. Sad that you have to experience ANY more loss. It seems that after Cale died, shouldn't that fulfill a quota of pain and loss in someone's life? I know this loss was a pregnancy and not a person but the loss is also the dreams of what could have been. Seeing Finn with a sibling you with another baby in your arms, one more person to dress in plaid shirts at a pumpkin patch. I too like what Miles said "heartache not heartbreak. I am holding your heart my friend.

  2. I'm so so sorry to hear this. I am really thinking of you right now. I hope that your family is some comfort to you right now. Like you say though - heartache not heartbreak. I'm sure not much is worse than losing Cale. It isn't fair that you have to go through this as well though.

    Sending lots of love,

  3. I am so sorry, dear friend. Who would have ever thought that something so sweet and pure as wanting to grow a family could involve heartache and heartbreak? I guess we all become more aware of that as time passes and I am so sorry that you have had to be so painfully aware of it in your life. Love you lots and I'm sending thoughts and prayers your way.

  4. Love you sweet friend! My heart hurts with you!

  5. Caroline, I am so sorry for your loss and heartache. You are so strong, brave, and wonderful, to let so many in on the most private moments of your life. My heart aches for you. We all love you so much!

  6. I'm so sorry, Caroline. I know the heaviness of what you are going through, as we got pregnant shortly after Elizabeth died and then had a miscarriage at the end of the first trimester. It hurts to lose that loved little could-have-been. Hugs to you - and take good care of yourself.

  7. I'm so sorry. Why this type of thing happens and to such wonderful and loving parents is baffling. It's unfair and I am so sad for you guys. Heartache, not heartbreak. My goodness, I understand those words.

  8. I'm so very sorry to hear about this Caroline. It's so incredibly unfair. I will never understand. I'm praying for you guys and sending lots of love ♥

  9. Oh Caroline. I'm so sorry to read this. I've had my sister over since Thursday...and I've snuck the iPad to check my reader, and I too got excited when I read this title the other day....but stopped in my tracks when I read the first line. I knew I wanted to come back and read in full the second I had some alone time. And show my support.

    I'm so sorry. What you said about our children, vs a lost pregnancy/'s do very spot on. Who *should* have been here, and who *could* have been. The hurt in your heart is very different, but isn't nice to feel against any measure.

    I won't ever ask any of those questions everyone thinks is the *thing* to ask. (I told my sister I was pregnant, and the FIRST thing she asked was "how many months did you guys try?". Who says that? It's none of your business! How do I count my miscarriage in there? Did we try that month? Do I take that month away from our over all "trying"?). And I hope the people in your life give you the space and privacy you need at this time.

  10. Dear Caroline, Just know that I love you tons and that you are in my prayers. Mama T

  11. Sorry I'm just checking the blog... Should have thought to do so before I emailed you. I'm glad you posted about This latest loss. I'm sure it will help to be able to talk openly if needed. Like you said, heart ache, not heart break. Proud of you an your perspective. Most of all, just sorry this happened to such good people. Love you much.

  12. Caroline,

    Such heartache. I am so very, very sorry to hear of your loss. I am deeply saddened for all of you. Be kind and gentle to your heart and each other.

  13. You haven't been far from my thoughts since I found out. We were so very saddened to hear the news. Reading this post sends me back to the early days after we lost our second. Hugs to you, dear friend! I admire your strength and perspective through it all, and I'm so very glad you have Mr. Finley to hold and hug during this season. Much love. <3

  14. "This is heartache, not heartbreak.” Such wise words from your husband.

    xox momma. And I'm still ragey angry for you.

  15. Ugh I'm so sorry Caroline. And I'm sorry that this isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to you because it is awful and I hate that you are so familiar with all that can go wrong. "this is heartache not heartbreak" wow. I really really hate that there is no free pass after what we have been through (or in general really). I'm thinking about you lots. Xxxooo

  16. "This is heartache, not heartbreak." This couldn't resonate more. As we were hearing the bad news, I just kept thinking about how I spent 30 minutes snuggling with B this morning and how this isn't like when we lost Q.

    Thanks for sharing.