Trigger – 13w6d

Warning: This is a touchy, emotional, unapologetic post about pregnancy loss–even though I’m still pregnant. If you can’t read about how sad I’m still feeling without wanting to smack me and tell me how grateful I should be, please don’t continue past the line. I am mostly writing this for my own sake–just to get it out–but I’m also writing for the girl in the future who finds out that she’s lost half of an early twin pregnancy and reaches out to Google.

Last night, something knocked the wind out of me. I sat there on the couch next to Catch and I tried to work through it in my head, but it was just one of those things that comes along when you least expect it. I went from being absolutely fine to suddenly feeling like gravity had reversed.

I told Catch I needed to talk and within seconds, I was sobbing. I haven’t cried like that since the day we found out we’d lost one of our twins. Last night—more than ever before—I just wanted my baby back. I couldn’t stop myself. Somewhere in our house is a second pair of baby-sized red converse—an ultrasound photo of two beating hearts—a book about twin pregnancy—and in that moment, I just wanted it all back. I wanted everything to be as it was 6 weeks ago. I wanted to be panicked about how we’ll pay for daycare. I wanted our (deleted) “Twins!” board on Pinterest. I wanted the universe to change its mind and admit that it made a mistake.

A year ago, I thought losing weight was hard. I thought going through fertility treatments was hard. I thought watching other people announce their pregnancy was hard. Today, I can tell you that none of that holds a candle to this place I am in right now. For me, this is hard—this cocktail of loss and gain and hormones and fear and hope and exhaustion. Now, we have so much more to lose.

My mother says our loss was for the best. She is relieved. Friends say, “But you still have one!” or “It was so early—it happens all the time!” But none of them see what I see in ultrasounds. None of them understand the void. None of them remember what it sounded like when that void had a heartbeat. I see a baby where they see a black hole.

This is what we see on the screen every time we see our remaining healthy baby. (Pardon the link, but I really didn’t want this photo showing up in your feeds.) This is what a “vanishing” twin ultrasound looks like at 11 weeks after a loss around 7 weeks. It doesn’t exactly vanish, does it?  You can’t actually see what remains of the embryo in this photo, but I could see it clear as day when the ultrasound tech measured it at our NT scan last week. It’s like a kick to the stomach every single time.

There’s a part of me that feels like after everything, I owe it to everyone—all of you included—to be blissful and glowing, but it’s just not happening. It’s not for a lack of effort. I want nothing more than to be able to put everything behind me. To move forward without this overwhelming fear that we will lose our other baby as well. I would love to be able to stop checking the toilet paper for blood. I would love to stop obsessing over symptoms and worrying about what’s happening now that I’m off all of the meds. I would love to be able to take a perfect ultrasound of a perfectly developing fetus at face value.  I have dreamed of pregnancy my entire life, and this is not what I want from these 40 weeks.

I will tell all of you what I told Catch last night. I’m trying. I really am. Most of the time, I feel like happier times are right around the corner. I just don’t know which corner. Perhaps it’s the one when it becomes apparent that there’s something more than flab in my mid-section. Perhaps I’ll find it when I start feeling our baby move. Maybe it won’t be until I’m holding her in my arms. Regardless, I know I’ll get there and I promise to keep trying until I do.


26 thoughts on “Trigger – 13w6d

  1. I didn’t understand at first how this worked. Seeing how long the physical evidence lingers I would feel similar I think. Healing when you keep seeing reminders at scans would be hard! You’re doingthe best you can. No need to apologize for that. I’m sorry it’s so hard but at least you are expressing it so you can heal.

  2. Powerful. Thank you for sharing your story and feelings, I’m sure someone out there will benefit from it one day like you said. I’m so sorry that you have to continue seeing the reminder at every scan, I had no idea, and I can’t imagine the turmoil and heartache you have to experience. I hope that writing it out will help you to heal, like butchjax said, don’t apologize for feeling your feelings, to us or anyone in real life either! 🙂

  3. Oh sweetie. My heart aches for you. ❤

    I do not know the kind of pain and loss you are feeling, and I won't try to pretend. I will tell you to try not to feel so guilty, though. To be kinder to yourself. As I said, this doesn't compare (especially when you get into specifics like that ultrasound photo…I am holding back tears just thinking of it now, I can't imagine the heartache you feel every time you see your sweet baby A in that "void") but I felt a lot of mixed emotions around Christmastime at the 1-year anniversary of when we lost our second baby…and meanwhile I was 29w with my son. I finally stopped holding back how I was feeling and tried to stop apologizing for it. I had a right to still feel grief. I still do.

    And so do you.

    It doesn't make you ungrateful. It doesn't make you a "bad infertile." And it doesn't mean you love Baby A any less. It makes you human. It makes you a person who had two babies at the time of that + HPT, and now only has one.

    Let yourself grieve. Be kinder to yourself. Allow yourself the tears and the sadness and the wanting of all those things back. It's normal. I promise you. You need to heal from this and if you go around pretending you're okay just so you don't seem like a "bad person" then you won't fully heal.

    Sending you the biggest hugs, sweetie. I wish I could do more. Love you, girl. ❤

  4. Maybe you don’t need to try. Maybe you just need to BE. Without apology. Without excuse or obligation. Without feeling that your grief somehow taints or lessens your love for Baby A and your deep-underneath, waiting-to-be-felt-and-expressed happiness for the living child you are making. Just be. In your moments of deep grief, stop trying. Stop feeling a “should.” Just recognize and acknowledge amd respect your emotion of the moment without trying to alter it- but also know that no emotion lasts for all the moments of our lives. There is plenty of time and plenty of room in your heart for all measure of happiness as well, and your grief does not preclude that. It will come.

  5. You have NOTHING to be apologetic for. If you had two three year olds and one of them died it would be tragic and awful. This isn’t any different to me. It’s still a miscarriage-and just like in a situation with outside-of-your-body children where one is left to care for, you have to keep going and THAT is hard. There’s nothing about this that is easy-be kind to yourself. If anyone says you should just be grateful I will digitally kick them in the lady parts for being so asinine.

  6. I’m so sorry. We have a tradition of planting flowers in the spring for friends, family, and pets list in the last year. I don’t want to presume, but if you would like, we will plant one this year for your little.

  7. Of course you are still devastated by the loss of a baby you loved and desperately, whole-heartedly wanted. Grief has a way of sneaking up on us. I cannot imagine anyone faulting of begrudging you for that though human cruelty never ceases to surprise and disappoint me. My heart breaks for your lost baby as it does for my own. I say speak your truth as and as often as you need to as you walk this winding road to motherhood. The alternative is truly unspeakable.

  8. Even though I haven’t experienced this type of loss, your feelings make perfect sense to me. The moment I saw those 2 pink lines I loved my baby, when I saw the first heart flicker he was real even if he was technically just a cluster of cells— he was my son. It doesn’t matter what stage it happens a loss is a loss. How difficult a place it must be to have the mish mosh of pain, joy, and fear. Take care of yourself, and keep allowing time to grieve.

  9. Important post. Everyone above has said everything I want to say far better than I will, but these feelings are a part of your pregnancy and they are a part of your parenthood and they are a part of you, as real as your love for your lost bundle of possibilities. I hope you find peace soon but more importantly right now, I hope you are kind to yourself. Thanks for sharing.

  10. No judegement here and in fact, it makes me sad we have to worry about it in our close knit community. I had a similar feeling of not feeling fully heard with my last miscarraige. I asked for no cheerleading, for bald acceptance of the inevititable because after 3 miscarraiges I’m pretty savvy about how they work. Most people respected my request but when things were bad and i was raw i had to make posts private, because i couldn’t deal with the fear that others couldn’t or wouldn’t respect that. I offer that only as a comparison of how complicated it can all be at times, trying to share, hoping to be understood, trying not to offend or be offended, even in our supportive blogging world.

    I also totally understand as someone who lost twins. When we lost the first one, a girl, i was so terrified, i clung to the idea the boy would live and that made me feel guilty. I built up a whole fantasy world where yes, we lost the girl, but, we had the boy. When i indulged in my fAntasy around others i worried they thought i was feckless and uncaring, but you have to put your hope, love and energy towards the other twin. Its how you survive and if all goes well, it means one day, they’ll thrive because they were loved so deeply, right from the start.

    I hope your fears lessen over time. Youve worked so hard yo get here. You deserve to be able to feel safe and revel in this pregnancy.


  11. Thinking of you. And sending pissy thoughts (or maybe just ‘think about how that hurts’ thoughts) towards your mum and friends that made those well meaning but ignorant comments. I got enough of them after my MC’s to have no tolerance for them at all. I still cant imagine how it must be to be grieving bitterly whilst growing a baby at the same time. Well i suppose I have a little underatanding as I conceived again & carried till 12 weeks only 3mths after losing our first bub…but to be doing it simultaneoysly and with the evidence still present. I think it must be hell. Kia kaha – have strength. Xx

  12. You are allowed to hurt, you are allowed to feel a million different emotions all at once, you are allowed to miss your lost baby. Actually, I think it’s normal that you do have these emotions. Give your self space and time. Love to you and Catch.

  13. I donr want to smack you at all! You have still lost a baby, you are still going through the horrible grief and suffering we are, you shouldnt have to apologise for that. Just because you are still pregnant doesnt mean you havent lost someone precious xx

  14. I’m sorry. It sounds like you really valued Baby B just as you would’ve a singleton. It sounds like you are unsettled in your pregnancy still because you’re still grieving, and a little bit scared. It must be so hard to celebrate Baby A without seeing with it the loss of Baby B. I am so sorry. I am sending you hugs and love.

  15. You should offer no appologies for how you feel. This post made me really emotional (i think i have inherited Callie’s hornones). In sitting her with tears in my eyes sharing this pain with you that i wish you werent feeling but completely understanding why its necessary. You are grieving the loss of you beautiful little one, and everyone grieves differently. My heart breaks for you…im sending a big hug and lots of love to you and Catch (who in sure is grieving as well in her own way…

  16. I just wrote a post like this! You are mosy definitely allowed to be sad …You can hurt, you are human and you have lost a baby… REGARDLESS if there is one baby left or not! You will live this baby and you will get round “that” corner, but it doesnt mean you loved your lost baby any less.
    I understand x

    MsCarry On x

  17. I feel for you. I just found out I am in the same situation. I have been searching for answers and trying to stay positive. Your words make me feel someone truly understands. Thank you. I hope life is wonderful for you now

    • I am so, so sorry for your loss. So sorry that you are going through this. If you need someone to talk to who gets it, please don’t hesitate to send me an email. Stophoundingme at gmail dot com. Although my daughter is 18 months old now, I still feel the loss of her twin constantly. ❤

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