Please note: I’ve never done this before. A graphic image is contained in this post. My purpose is not to gross anyone out by sharing my pregnancy loss, but to prove to Right to Choose proponents that life does begin in the womb and that a baby is not just a piece of tissue, but a human being fully formed. This is also my personal experience and should not be taken as medical advice.

Just when I should have been able to get a little comfortable in my pregnancy at a day short of being 14 weeks, the unbelievable happened to me two weeks ago Thursday morning. I woke up around 2-2:30am as I have been doing for the past 6-7 months to do the paper route and discovered a pink show upon using the bathroom. Inside I was freaking out. I told my husband, who is very groggy at that hour, and woke up one of my girls so I could just drive and she’d throw and deliver to customers requiring porch deliveries. We bagged in the car to save time and to keep me from having to stand on the concrete warehouse floor for 30-40 minutes.

I tried to remain hopeful during the day but the fact of the matter is…I do not bleed during my normal full-term pregnancies. Ever. Any bloody show has always meant a miscarriage for me. I rested as much as possible that day. My husband went to work as normal, though I feared what would happen if I lost the baby while he was gone. I have lost the past two babies at home, thankfully with him at home both times. I have refused to go to the hospital in spite of passing out several times. Scary? Yes. But for me the decision was easy – be cared for by my loving husband in the comfort of my own home, in my own germ environment or go to the hospital to be cared for by strangers who usually only care about the almighty dollar. I’ve only had a handful of hospital staff seem truly interested and invested in my personal well-being. Oh, don’t even get me started on hospitals either. I hate them. As long as it is in my power to do so, I will continue to refuse to go to a hospital unless absolutely necessary. And yes, I have hospital experience 5 live births and 3 miscarriages all occurred at the same hospital. So maybe it’s just THAT hospital I hate.

Thankfully, the loss occurred after my husband got home. I started experiencing more painful cramping (contractions) about a half hour to an hour after Robert arrived home. With the cramping came the heavy bleeding. The heavy bleeding lasted for a few hours. Yes, I passed our about four times scaring my husband and oldest daughter. I hit my head once because my husband was unable to react fast enough to prevent it. I also bruised my arm somehow, we aren’t sure how. I believe the fainting occurred due to the pain I was experiencing, the amount of blood I witnessed and lost. In two of my previous pregnancy losses, I have gone to the hospital only to be told by the doctors that I was almost done bleeding. Based on that knowledge, I begged my husband not to call, unless absolutely necessary. As long as I had consciousness, I begged him to wait. When I was finally resting in my bed, I made my daughter write out a letter to the medics and hospital staff explaining it had been my choice alone to remain at home during my miscarriage. I listed my history of miscarriages, my births, and any other minute detail I thought my husband would not remember or know to answer, should he have had to call 911. I did not want him being blamed should the worst happen. I’ve read too many negative news stories not to take this precaution.

The worst didn’t happen and while I was weak the first week, I have experienced a lot of improvement this past week. I am in much better spirits from having been cared for by my husband in my own home. We’ve been through so much together and he loves and respects me enough to abide by my wishes. I didn’t need medical attention. I needed time to let my body do its work. That doesn’t mean we did nothing and were ignorant. We called my midwife, we used our essential oils for hemorrhaging to stop bleeding, my husband pushed the Gatorade and water to replenish my lost fluids, I’ve been taking my prenatal vitamins, eating red meat and molasses to get my iron back up and I’ve been resting. I know my body and I listen to its signals.

My husband was scared, but we made it through because…again, I know my body and my history. I should after 14 pregnancies – 6 losses to 8 live births. I don’t really like those odds as my losses are creeping up on my live births, but I am against invasive birth control. I let nature take its course and trust God to do His will. My husband and I would prefer not to have anymore losses and we aren’t even sure about any more children, but we won’t do anything drastic to our bodies or take harmful chemicals to alter what God deems natural for a woman’s body. That’s just us though.

Michael, was born around 4-4:30pm on Thursday, June 13, 2013. Fully formed. Perfect for being so early. We are grieving. I feel sad some days. But I’ve managed to have a friend over to make goat milk soap with one of my daughters, picked up herbs and veggie plants from another friend’s farm…so life goes on. However, I am still getting use to the fact that I am no longer pregnant. I just took down my little pregnancy ticker that was on my blog side bar. It was hard to do because it meant acknowledging again that I am no longer pregnant. Photos of infants make me cry because I know I will never hold Michael in that way. In some strange way, and I am ashamed to admit it, I am even relieved. I don’t understand God’s plan in this pregnancy loss, but I do know we have a lot on our plate already and now I don’t have to worry about how a baby will fit in to all that is going on in our family and business(es). I no longer have to worry about working in the hot sun in our garden beds because I’m pregnant. I no longer have to worry about working hard physically to provide quality products to our farm customers. Yet, a part of me is missing and I will always hide in my heart that I am a mom to 14 – 6 of whom are angels – Hope, Matthew, Faith, Grace, Charity and Michael. Not angels in the true sense of the word but heavenly sent, waiting for that day when I will meet them, hopefully, face to face. Though the thought is hard to even comprehend.

P.S. We put him on plastic wrap since he’d stick to tissue paper. See his ribs, his spine, his ear buds, eyes, nose….he’s curled up in fetal position with his legs tucked up and under, but we do have photos to prove he’s a boy. Just did not think them appropriate to post.

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