A Positive Mess – My Missed Miscarriage Story

I had never heard the term “missed miscarriage” until the words came out of my ob/gyn’s mouth. It was a Thursday, I was in my 9th week of pregnancy, and I’d just had an ultrasound that revealed sad news. There was no heartbeat. I should have miscarried. Possibly even many weeks earlier… but my body didn’t get the message. It kept right on increasing my HCG, my boobs, and my excitement. It was a cruel trick.

My sleepy husband and cutie pie son on Father’s day, with the hoodie we would eventually use to reveal our news…

A little backstory. I am lucky to be mommy to (biased parent warning) the cutest little 4-year-old in the world. And he was a total surprise! But there is no doubt that he was right on time. With my first pregnancy, I didn’t even know I was pregnant until about 8 weeks. I mistook implantation bleeding along with a small placental tear for a light period, and it wasn’t until the nonstop nausea started that I got suspicious. So, at that very first visit, just days after learning I was pregnant, I got to hear his little heartbeat, and take home a picture that looked like a peanut inside of an oval. A surprise pregnancy came with it’s own set of hurdles, but we were very lucky we got to skip all of the fertility stress that first time around. Our baby was healthy and perfect.

Since almost the moment our son came into the world, my husband and I have known we want to give him a sibling. For a bunch of reasons (the most recent delay being travel to dang Zika regions!), we chose to wait a while between kiddos. But the thing is, I suffer from this thing called “advanced maternal age,” and apparently my condition is only getting worse!? So we figured we better get on it. This past February I had the goalie pulled, we received the most surprising box of swag ever – a box of ovulation and pregnancy tests from Clearblue (no pressure! But also…thank you!), and got to trying.

Our awesome Clearblue goodies!

Having never “tried” before, I thought it would be fun! Oh, boy. Anyone who has been through this knows it is NOT. It was stressful almost immediately. I will admit I had an argument with a digital ovulation stick that claimed I was having a “low fertility” day. It was very one-sided. I said some things I shouldn’t have. But it turns out I just started testing too late in my cycle, and we made up the very next day when said stick showed “peak.” I told my husband to COME HOME NOW in a scary voice. And just a couple weeks later I saw a very faint line pop up next to the control. I was pregnant!


I thought about doing some elaborate reveal, but it was very early – I was optimistic, but knew the risks. When the hubs got home, I showed him the test, and we both got teary and excited. We couldn’t help but tell our families, cause babies are fun! But we gave the disclaimer that it’s super early, blah blah blah.

With my handsome hubby, in the Nativity Tower of Sagrada Familia, on our very sober trip to Barcelona!

Of COURSE I found out about the pregnancy right before an epic trip to Europe, during which I abstained from sangria in Barcelona and red wine in Venice…but it was a small price to pay for keeping a precious little seed-sized boo safe in my belly. The pregnancy hormones hit hard core on our trip. Turns out 10-hour flights don’t mix well with morning sickness… But I had that giddy feeling, like I had an awesome secret, so I didn’t mind feeling like my pants and bras were getting a little tight, realizing my favorite foods didn’t sound so good, giving up hours of potential sight-seeing for sleep, or paying a euro to use the bathroom every hour. In fact, I took it all as happy and familiar signs that all was well.

Week by week, I got more comfortable with the idea that it was really happening. I knew the odds of a miscarriage were going down quickly, and by the time we returned home around the 7-week mark, I started to let myself get excited. We started talking about “the baby.” I ordered belly butter to avoid the dreaded stretch marks and moved my upcoming hair appointment to the second trimester. We found a new big boy bed for our 4-year-old with plans to turn the convertible toddler bed back into a crib. I thought about each new event added to the calendar in terms of how big my belly would be by that time. We made plans.

The big boy bed to replace the crib/toddler bed. It’s pretty sweet, right? 

There was no reason to worry. I had no cramps or spotting. But, for some reason, I had a needling feeling that something wasn’t right. I thought I was just being paranoid, and maybe I was. Or maybe it was intuition. I was not scheduled for my first prenatal appointment until 10 weeks. My doctor was taking a vacation, which meant a tricky schedule, and I’d had no previous issues, so there was no reason (aside from my own impatience) to do it sooner. But I became so fixated on needing to hear the heartbeat, that I chose get an elective ultrasound during my 9th week. A 2D “heartbeat” ultrasound. For peace of mind.


The morning of the appointment, I felt very nervous. And not in a good way. The clinic had limited openings, and my hubby couldn’t make any of the available morning time slots. He really wanted to be there, but he knew I’d been anxious, and we both felt like the sooner we could put my mind at ease, the better. So, since I was sure I was just being paranoid, I went alone. I parked in one of those medical parking lots with the annoyingly close concrete posts, and walked to the clinic.

It was quiet inside – I was the only one there, and the girl behind the desk, my ultrasound tech, was nice enough but pretty straightforward. She asked if I wanted to add a “heartbeat animal” for 15 bucks. Which means you pick out a stuffed animal and they put a recording of the heartbeat in the animal… they had a giraffe, which is my son’s favorite, and I thought that would be the sweetest thing for him to have – his sibling’s heartbeat!! We had only very casually broached the topic with him at this point, and I thought it would be a great way to open up the subject in a real way. To give him something tangible to cuddle, that would represent the start of his love for his baby brother or sister…

The tech put the giraffe under her arm and walked me into the exam room, and we got right to business. I lay on a table, rolled down my shorts, and looked up at the wall-sized screen as she started to move the probe around my abdomen. I was just trying not to pee on myself – a full bladder is helpful for the ultrasound image, but decidedly uncomfortable. But as she started poking around, harder and harder, she was silent. It felt awkward. So I said, “are you supposed to be seeing something that you’re not seeing?”

What I was seeing, was confusing. I was familiar with ultrasounds from my first pregnancy, and I knew that we were seeing my uterus, and I could see that there was something inside of it… but there was no peanut-shaped thing in the thing inside my uterus. To be fair, though, my 8-week ultrasound with my son was transvaginal, and this was on top of the belly.

She continued to look around, and told me that she’d found the gestational sac, but she couldn’t see the baby. I asked the question I could already feel the answer to…. “Should we be hearing a heartbeat?”

“Maybe you’re not as far along as you thought. You should see your ob/gyn for a transvaginal ultrasound.”

“But if I’m right about my dates, we should see a baby, and hear a heartbeat.”

“Yes ma’am.”


All the way to the right. The adorable little giraffe I had hoped would be our new baby’s first gift to big brother.

I stared at the way larger than life-sized image of my empty womb on the screen for a moment. And then I said okay, and thanked her. She said she would give me a refund for the exam but it would take a day to go back on my card. Nice, I guess, but I could have cared less about the 50 bucks. For some reason it was that damn giraffe sitting right beside her that really got me. I wouldn’t get to take a sweet little heartbeat home for my little boy to hear. Instead she carried it back to the front desk with her. It wouldn’t come live with us. It wrecked me.

I left the clinic, numb. I was holding on, not losing it. When I got to the car, I called my doctor’s office. Apparently my doc had not left town yet and they told me to come right over. I just wanted to get OUT of that parking lot, and I was trying to call my husband while backing out of the tight spot…. and as I reversed, another car sped by. I was distracted anyway, of course, and I banged my month-old Jeep into a concrete pillar in the garage. The pillar won. It put me over the edge…

THEN. I lost it. And that’s when my husband picked up.

The poor guy. He was in a big meeting and as I tried to blubber out what happened, unconvincingly sputtering “but I’m fine, I really am fine,” he immediately just said he was coming to meet me at my doctor’s office.

I sat in the waiting room for 10 or 15 minutes. I’d wiped my eyes dry and worn sunglasses inside. Cause seeming too cool for school is better than seeming sad, I guess? I was called back, gave a urine sample (big fat positive for PREGNANT), and got undressed for a transvaginal ultrasound. As I was waiting for the doc to come in, my husband showed up. It was such a relief to see him, but it also made me just start crying all over again. He hugged me until they rolled the ultrasound machine in.

The doctor got out the lovely wand they stick up inside of you to get a closer look. After looking around for a minute, he turned the screen around to show us what he was seeing. It was the same image I’d seen on the big screen an hour ago. He asked me about the dates of my last period and ovulation, and the date of my positive pregnancy test. I don’t think he realized that I already knew the baby had passed. He was so kind, and broke the news very gently. He explained to us that, unless we were very off on our dates – it was clear that we were not – there would not be a happy ending to this pregnancy. There would be no baby in our arms in February.

It was terribly confusing. I knew miscarriages were very common. I mentally prepared myself for the possibility of seeing blood every time I went to pee. I knew better than to naively believe everything would be fine. Especially with my “condition.” But, aside from my paranoia, there were no signs. No bleeding or cramping. My belly had a new roundness. I had round-the-clock nausea. I’d even done that slightly obsessive thing where you pee on extra sticks to see the line get darker. I just felt SO PREGNANT. I know it wasn’t my fault, and it wasn’t the right emotion, but in that moment I felt so dumb. Dumb for not knowing. For falling for this trick. How had this happened??


My doctor first explained to us that I could have had a blighted ovum – where the fertilized egg implants into the uterus, but doesn’t continue to develop, usually due to chromosomal problems. Alternately, the baby may have just stopped growing by around 6 weeks, and never gotten big enough to be visible on an ultrasound. It’s even possible the embryo was reabsorbed into my body. Holy weird.

This makes me feel like I actually AM cool for wearing sunglasses inside.

The second thing going on was that I had a “missed miscarriage.” Which means your body doesn’t realize the pregnancy is not viable, and, for all intents and purposes, it stays pregnant. You stay pregnant. After the baby has died. For WEEKS or MONTHS after the baby has died. Technically, it’s called a “missed abortion.” That is a horrible name – it makes it sound as if I chose it. “Miscarriage” is bad enough – like, oops I wasn’t paying attention and dropped something, how careless of me. Who names these things? Probably the same person who came up with “advanced maternal age.” Someone mean.

The next big question? How to get what was currently in there, out. I had three options – a D&C (surgical removal of the tissue), Cytotec – pills that induce labor/miscarriage, or…simply wait. Wait to miscarry naturally. My doctor, who I trust, highly recommended waiting for a natural miscarriage. A D&C means surgery, which comes with it’s own set of risks. And he is not a fan of Cytotec, which apparently only has a 50/50 chance of working, and has some gnarly side effects. Made sense to me. I asked how long it would take for the miscarriage to start. “It could take two weeks, it could take two months.”

WHAT????? TWO FREAKIN MORE MONTHS?? Of being pregnant with NO baby? This seemed incomprehensible. He recommended giving it at least a couple weeks to happen on it’s own. I could always choose one of the other options later.

Next question. What is the miscarriage gonna be like? Again, no way to know. Even in early pregnancy, your cervix has to dilate quite a bit to get all of the extra stuff out. Best case scenario would be something akin to a really horrible period that might last for weeks, or there could be tons of pain and labor-type contractions and big gushes of blood. Great. Either way, I’m a ticking time bomb. No white pants for a while.

Last question. When can we start trying again?? This was what I really wanted to know. Another big fat question mark. I would first need to get through the miscarriage, and my HCG would need to zero out before my body would start ovulating again. That extra line on the pregnancy test that brought me so much joy would need to GO AWAY. The average person will start having cycles again 4 to 6 weeks after a miscarriage, but some have to wait months for their bodies to get back in the swing of things. My doctor said that, once my cycles start up again, we would need to wait one full cycle before starting to try for another baby.

To recap: It could take months to miscarry. It could take weeks to bleed it all out. It could take more months to have cycles again. And then you need to wait another month after THAT to start trying for another hopefully healthy pregnancy which will then lead to 9+ months of pregnancy. SO. MANY. MONTHS. Side note: I’d originally had a smartass remark here about a “geriatric pregnancy,” but when I googled it to make sure I wouldn’t offend anyone, I found out this fun fact- that used to be the REAL NAME for a pregnant woman over the age of 35!!!!?? What the??? The medical community switched it to the above-mentioned “advanced maternal age,” cause…it’s so much less awful? Bottom line though, this timeline left me feeling like I was gonna need that title.


The uncertainty made it so much worse. We went home worn out. Thankfully our son was at school, and didn’t have to see his parents upset. We took the day to sit and talk, and cry, and binge watch Game of Thrones. It seemed like a good move to, you know, put things in perspective. I mean, at least we weren’t about to be eaten by White Walkers, right? I opened a bottle of wine and watched Jon Snow come back from the dead (sorry, spoiler).

I told myself I would just give myself that day to ugly cry, and then move forward.

It turned out the next day wasn’t so easy either. We had to tell our families, and the handful of others that knew we were pregnant, that there was no baby. We picked up the big boy bed for our son, but had no idea when a new little snuggle-bug would go in the one we took apart. I cancelled the belly butter auto-ship, moved the hair appointment back… and ordered take-out sushi.

I held it together in front of my kiddo, but cried a lot when he wasn’t looking. I still had all those damn preggie hormones coursing through my body, making me even MORE emotional.

A few days passed, and I realized I had no idea how to act out in the real world. I didn’t want to put my sadness on other people – that felt selfish and indulgent. I didn’t need or want people to tell me they were sorry. Many of my very close friends don’t even know I’ve been going through this… We intended to share the fun news after the 10-week appointment, but when things derailed, the last thing I felt like doing was calling around to tell people who didn’t even know I was pregnant that I lost the baby. There is no good way to just come out with this kind of news.

I wanted to be tough. To shake it off. To forge on! For myself, for my husband, for my son. For the people I work with who need me on my game. I mean, people go through really hard stuff all the time, and this is nothing in comparison to what some people endure.

But the betrayal I felt at my own body was overwhelming. It pissed me off. Oh, hi, yes I look like I’m about to puke, cause I feel like I’m about to puke, because I have morning sickness, but don’t congratulate me cause the baby died a long time ago. Also, sorry in advance if I gush blood all over your couch.

The truth is, while I am acutely aware that it could have been much, much worse, it has still been difficult. I’ve been distracted, distant, unfocused. And I don’t want to walk around acting like a half-checked out zombie because I’m too stubborn to just go on and feel the feels I’m feeling.


This sweet little munchkin cuddling his mama… can’t help but be happy with this one around!

As it turns out, I think talking about it is what has started to pull me out of the blender of emotions I’ve been in. Talking to my family, and close friends here in Nashville, who have lifted my spirits in such thoughtful ways, and checked in on me, and shared, and listened. My sweet husband who has had to see his normally unfailingly upbeat wife crumble into tears at the drop of a hat, but who drops whatever he is doing to talk to me and make me feel better whenever I need him – even though he’s going through a loss, too. My little boy who knows mommy needs extra hugs right now, even though one time he told me he didn’t want to “sit next to a sad guy.” Oh, the honesty. All the love and openness has taken the power away from the sadness.

Good friends. Good wine. Good for the soul! 

Truthfully, even right after we got the news, my husband and I recognized that in many ways we’re very lucky. We got pregnant quickly. It was an early loss. Intellectually, we understood that this was never a viable pregnancy. We could see no baby on that ultrasound, and we never heard a little heartbeat that we felt connected to and then lost. We are lucky that we have our sweet little boy to go home to and hug SO tight. We’re lucky that we’ll be able to try again in ____months. 😉

And I want to take a full dang paragraph of this already novel-length story to talk about a MAJOR thing I am so grateful for…the women who have gone before me in sharing their miscarriage stories. Publicly or privately. They are why I chose to turn this post (which was intended to be a private journal entry) into a shared story. The prevalence of fertility problems, and miscarriages, and postpartum depression, has only recently been revealed. These issues are being demystified, and it’s such an important trend. The most comforting thing in the world is to know you’re not alone. The friends who have opened up, and the countless stories I have read online – it has all helped SO. MUCH.

And him…. #theluckiest

Sharing this kind of thing isn’t for everyone, but I’m a pretty open person already, and the nature of the industry my husband and I are in means a lot of our life is public. It turns out, before we even talked to each other about it, my hubby and I were both thinking this might be an important piece of our lives to share. Especially with the social media bubble we all live in these days and our photo-shopped lives. I’m definitely not judging – who wants to share their bad pictures?? And, filters RULE. But all that glossiness can make the sad stuff behind the curtain seem even more isolating. We both felt that if sharing our story can help, it’s well worth people knowing a bit more about my lady stuff than I’d intended. So, screw TMI. I’m a big believer in the whole “everything happens for a reason” thing, and if one person feels better or more informed or less alone after reading this, I’ll feel pretty darn happy. Like there was a purpose to this whole thing. Deep breath. PUBLISH.


*There is a part two to this story. I should now be wrapping up my first trimester – on the edge of publicly sharing, and potentially showing. Instead, I am bleeding. I feel fortunate that it didn’t take two months to get to this point. Still, though, it has felt like a very long couple of months. I can’t effectively share this part of my story until I am on the other side, but suffice it to say that it’s certainly an upside down world I’m living in where I’m relieved to be having a miscarriage. 

**I am not a medical professional. I have played one on TV, but it turns out using words like thingy and doo-hickey to describe body parts is not the norm. I’ve relayed the things I’ve gone through in the way that I understand them, but that doesn’t mean it’s all 100% accurate. And I made the decisions I made based on my personal doctor’s advice. I can’t speak to what is best for anyone else. If you are in the position I was to make decisions about your health, please make sure you seek the advice of someone smarter than me…

 

 

28 thoughts on “A Positive Mess – My Missed Miscarriage Story

  1. No matter the miles between, you are my heart and it’s breaking for you. Even in your pain you sacrifice for others. This is painfully beautiful. Love you.

  2. I heard your husband talking about this on the radio this morning. Of all days, today would have been my due date. Your story sounds just like mine. I went to my 12 week appointment, because I already have two beautiful girls. No signs, no warnings. I had my 2 year old with me. Told my husband not to come, since I had two kids, what could go wrong. When she said no heartbeat..and the baby stopped growing at 10 weeks. How, why, what did I do? My body wasn’t acknowledging the loss, so I had to have it surgically removed. Every woman, nurse, and doctor I came into contact with, held me, and some cried…knowing my pain. The EMPTY I felt. You are NOT alone. You will heal.

    Thank you, for sharing your story with me. I really needed to hear it today….today of all days, my due date.

    • I’m so sorry to hear this….today must be incredibly difficult. This sounds all too familiar. I’m so glad you had such a kind group of doctors and nurses surrounding you. Thank you for sharing what you’ve gone through, and you’ll be in my thoughts today. Sending lots and lots of hugs your way. xoxoxo

  3. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. A Nashville resident also, and one who all too well knows the pain of a miscarriage. In March, at the old age of 34 (ugh), I miscarried my first baby at 6.5 weeks. I would explain it to people that you’re running full speed and then hit a brick wall. It’s amazing how fast you can have the rest of your life planned out while pregnant. I, too, had to wait those never ending weeks before trying again. Thankfully my husband and I are now 7 weeks along, but there isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not nervous. Every time I go to the bathroom, I look for blood. Every time I feel “fine”, I start my google searching to make sure it’s ok that I’m NOT nauseous that day. I’m so blessed to be pregnant again, I just hope that I can fully enjoy it soon.

    Thank you for sharing! It’s never easy, but it does get easier.

    • Alexis – thank you so much for sharing what you’ve gone through. It’s so tough, and I’m so sorry you’ve had to feel the “age” thing as well as the loss… I’m so happy to hear that you are pregnant! I’ve thought about the fact that I will be a nervous wreck next time, so I can only imagine what you must be feeling. But it’s amazing news, and I’m sending you so tons of hugs and wishes for a smooth pregnancy and a little cutie in your arms soon!!! xoxox

  4. Ty & Corri,
    I met both of you in October 2016 at our “karaoke for a cure” for the leukemia & lymphoma society light the night walk. You were so much fun to talk to…you just never know what goes on behind closed doors. I’m so very sorry for your loss. Your bravery for putting it out there in the way you did has to be so helpful for those who have been in similar situations. I have 3 children so I know the joy. I also know the pain of a miscarriage as I lost my first grandchild when my daughter in law was 5 1/2 months pregnant. I had never heard of a missed miscarriage (I thought Ty made an error in his tweet LOL) and obviously that comes with its own kind of emotional pain.
    Thank you for sharing this very personal passage in your life. I hope that your next pregnancy goes smoothly & you have a sibling for your son. I’m very glad you have the support of your family & friends. This, your words about your journey, will help many who are going through their own personal hells, whether it be a pregnancy as yours or other situations.
    Many hugs to you & Ty..you’ve certainly had your fair share recently! Keep your smiles & your lovely demeanor..life goes on and your attitudes are what gets you through. Xoxo

    • Susie, thank you so much for the kind words!! I’m so sorry to hear what your daughter has been through…I hope you are both doing okay, that is so hard. Sending lots of love and hugs to you and your family!!xoxox

  5. Beautifully written. I cannot fathom what you have been feeling–wow. However, I wanted to tell you “advanced maternal age” be damned! I got pregnant for this first (and only) time when I was 41. I delivered healthy twin boys (another benefit to the advanced age thing is the double egg release!) who are now 23. And, yes, I will be working full time forever–ha ha–but I wouldn’t trade places with anyone. So keep your spirits high because age is just a number. Hugs to you and Ty.

  6. Corri,
    Thank you for posting a story that I know must be difficult, as it is all too familiar. Dave and I became pregnant while in Vancouver many years ago. Our first and very planned pregnancy. However as we went to our first ultrasound, we faced the same news. All the pregnancy books I had said don’t read the sections on miscarriage, so I never even thought about the possibility. It took a long miscarriage via medication, a 2nd miscarriage months later, and almost 2 years until we had Zoe…almost 3 now. I’m currently 10 weeks pregnant with our 2nd and sweating every moment. But it’s so important to share our stories and be open about it. You are never alone.
    Sending you all of our love.

    • Lori!! First of all.. congratulations!! I certainly understand the apprehension, but that is just amazing news. I’m so sorry you had to go through those losses before Zoe. Man is she a cutie. I hope it all goes very very smoothly and cannot wait to see the pics of the new little one before too long. You have an adorable family!! Please tell Dave hello! Miss you guys!! xoxoxo

  7. Thank you Corri for this heartfelt story. My wife & I went through the exact same thing and we too felt something was wrong. We had a wedding date planned and found out the day before our wedding. Same thing. We had choices and we decided we would wait…wait to tell family & friends the tragic news…after all, we had a wedding that followed a 10-year courtship. We decided to wait. Unfortunately, the mis-carriage didn’t wait & before even our first dance, everyone in the room learned what we already knew. We refer to that moment as the “Red Reception”.
    You never truly forget but you have to be grateful for what you do have. That was five years ago. We never were blessed to have a baby but we live our lives to the best every day and move forward. I mean, you can’t go back anyways. All we can do is move forward. Thank you again for such a wonderful article. I am going to have my wife read it when she gets home.
    Much love goes out to you and your husband.

    • Christopher, thank you so much for sharing your story. What a tough thing to go through during a wedding, I can’t even imagine how difficult that must have been… It sounds like you guys are incredibly strong, and have a great outlook. It’s so true, you just have to keep on keepin on. Sending you and your wife lots and lots of love! xoxoxo

  8. My heart goes out to you and Ty. Thank you for sharing your story. I loved how you wrote “things happen for a reason.” I believe that too. I also had a miscarriage and went through all the emotions you did. I listen to your husbands morning show and love hearing the stories about Rad because my son is is only a few weeks younger then Rad. We started trying for another baby 2 years ago. I also got that positive test and we were so excited we told our parents. I was about 5-6 weeks when I found out we lost the baby. The doctors were concerned right away because I have O- blood I’m RH positive, which means my body starts creating antibodies to the pregnancy hormone. Of course we went through all the stages of loss and when I heard you and Ty were planning to expand your family I was so happy. The reason why I love your quote is because now I see why we were not ready to have another baby yet. My son, Bryan, has had developmental delays and now that he is a year away from kindergarten his doctors want him to be evaluated to see if he is in the spectrum for Autism. Having a four year old, as you know, is a full time job in itself. But us taking on the journey of possibly having an autistic son is scary. I know now that all our time and energy needs to be focused on him and if we had that other baby it would be even harder. Does it make the pain less? Hell No. but it’s just wasn’t the time. Just know “things do happen for a reason” and one day both of us with expand our family. Take care and thank you again for sharing. 🙂

    • Wow… that you so much for sharing your story. I’m so sorry to hear that you went through a loss, but you are so strong and have a such a great perspective – what a great mama you are!! I really do believe that you can always look back on things that felt terrible at the time, and see why they happened. Sending lots of hugs your way and wishes for a new addition when the time is right!! xoxox

  9. Oh girl. I wish I could hug you through the computer. I’m going through this very same thing right now. It’s really hard. I cry a lot and try not to let me son see. We wanted so badly to give him a sibling. I needed to hear this story. Thank you for sharing.

    • Oh no… I am so sorry to hear that…It’s so tough when you have a little one at home that you want to be the tough and present mama for… Wish I could hug you right back!! Sending you lots and lots of love xoxoxox

  10. Thank you for choosing to share, Corri. I miscarried during my second pregnancy also. It took us one month to conceive our first (No sweat! That was easy.) and then 8 months to conceive again. The second pregnancy lasted 9 weeks. I was pregnant and then… I wasn’t. In 1988, doctors weren’t as empathetic (at least mine wasn’t) and I still remember my OB/GYN asking me why I was crying after the transvaginal. (He wasn’t my doctor long after that). However, the good news. We conceived one cycle after the miscarriage and that little blessed pink bundle is getting married next April. I still think about the miscarriage all these years later and remember the almost unbearable sadness that came and went in cycles. Hard to explain, but the women I know who’ve had the experience understand completely. I wish you and Ty all the best in your recovery. Keep the faith.

    • Thank you Donna!! It’s so unfortunate that you had such an insensitive doctor – glad you switched! And congratulations on your daughter’s upcoming wedding!! How exciting!!! Thank you so much for sharing and for the wishes. We appreciate it more than we can express! xoxo

  11. My heart is breaking for you and Ty. That’s how my first miscarriage was. 9 years ago. I soon became pregnant 2 months after that with our son. for years, we decided we weren’t going to have another until recently. I would also fall into the “advanced maternal age” category. I found out I was pregnant 2 weeks ago. As soon as I found out, I had a feeling this pregnancy wasn’t good. I was cramping like my first miscarriage. I was still hopeful, trying to stay positive. Then a week later, I started to bleed. The day after we told my parents. The day after we bought our son a “big brother” shirt. Went to my doctor the next day and had blood work done. I did miscarry. i did not expect to go through it again. I know we start to think: what is wrong with me? Why is my body betraying me? But somehow, I know we will get through this Corri. One day at a time. Hugs to you and your family.

    • Oh, Mary, I am so sorry that you’re going through this again. It’s so hard. Thank you for sharing your story with me, and I will be thinking about you. Hang in there…wishing you healing and sending hugs right back at ya. xoxoxo

      • Thank you, Corri. It means a lot. By the way, our sons have the same bed. It is a great bed. Great transition from crib to bed. I’m sure your son loves it!

  12. Thank you for posting this beautiful, honest account of what you all have been going through. I heard your husband talking about your story on the radio yesterday morning, and knew I needed to read your story. After months of actively “trying,” I also had a missed miscarriage at 10 weeks with my first pregnancy, and was devastated. I chose the cytotec route – and it was excruciating – worse than my actual labor for my daughter, perhaps because I knew there was only sadness at the end of the physical pain. Our “rainbow” baby is now almost 2 – but my entire pregnancy with her, and my entire parenting experience so far has been shaped by that pain and loss. It’s so often not talked about, and I think feeling so alone in that pain makes it even harder. I will pray your continued healing, physically and emotionally.

    • Hi Sam!! Thank you so much for taking the time to write me and share what you went through. I’m so sorry that you had to go through that – the cytotec sounds awful! I know what you mean about it all being worse with nothing good on the other side of the pain. Congrats on your precious little girl’s upcoming 2nd bday! How fun! Wishing you and your fam all the very very best, and thank you so much for the kind thoughts… xoxoxo

  13. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to go thru something so exciting one minute and then devastating the next. You are brave and strong to share something so personal, and maybe sharing will help you heal. And after meeting your sweet family, I know that no matter what happens in the future that your adorable little boy will grow up to be a kind person, whether or not he is an only child or one of many. And he is the cutest in those videos…………he’s got some sweet dance moves!

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