My Miscarriage Story

I have shared bits and pieces of my miscarriage with different people, but never the whole story. Honestly I had planned to keep all the many details to myself. Today, June 11th is the 2 year anniversary of my D&C. The day I was in more pain both physically and mentally than I have ever been in my entire life..

Let me start with a back story. We found out we were pregnant early and chose to keep it a secret this time. We chose to keep a little slice of heaven to our selves for a while before crazy sets in. If you’ve ever had a baby you know what I mean. The “do you have any names?” or “you know what causes that right?” or “you sure are gonna have your hands full!!” Ive never been a fan of those kinds of questions and statements, so we decided to keep it our own happy news this time. This would be our last baby (or so we thought) so we wanted to do it our way.

We had a dr appt in May around 8 weeks and everything seemed pretty normal. There was a good heartbeat and a little activity! She said the measurements were maybe a little off by about a week, but she said that was normal and the due date could just be off. So I kept my picture of the sweet baby and took a picture of the picture to send to Matt.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Except Matt kept saying “Hailey you are already showing.” Which was odd because I never show. Sometimes it’s not even noticeable up until the day I give birth , depending on what I’m wearing. I took that as a good sign and put on baby doll tshirts and leggings. I could not wear my jeans at 8 weeks pregnant. That was insane to me. With Noel I wore my jeans the entire pregnancy. He would secretly put his hand on my belly and I’d swat it because he’s the WORST at keeping secrets, and I knew he was going to tell. But it was kind of fun keeping it to ourselves. In the back of my head though something just wasn’t right. It didn’t feel like my other two pregnancies. I can’t explain it even to this day, but something was off.

Fast forward to Sunday June 10th. Matt was off that weekend so he was able to go to church with us. I was the Children’s director at our church at the time and had an amazing group of kids that I would take upstairs on Sunday evenings to do fun activities with. This Sunday night we were practicing Vacation Bible School songs and motions to prepare since I was leading V.B.S that year, and the kids were going to help! For some reason Matt came upstairs with me. I still don’t remember why , because he never did. We were on the laptop going over songs and he was discussing vacations for the following year with me in between songs (as Matt normally does) . He loves to talk about our next trips and adventures he wants to go on as a family. We were talking about a cruise when the baby turns 6 months old. I was even pulling up some cruises while the kids were playing games independently. Make sure that I was adding a family with 2 adults and 3 kids. I remember saying I have to go to the bathroom.

I still remember the moment I went in and came back out. I know my face was white and I was feeling numb all over and sick. I looked at Matt and said “I’m bleeding”. His eyes were as big as saucers. I couldn’t freak out. I had 5 kids upstairs with me (one being my own ) and I couldn’t let them know something was wrong. Matt said “we have to go to the hospital”. I remember saying “no one knows , how am I going to leave?” Matt went downstairs and grabbed my parents, and my best friend Ashley (all of which were in the middle of a church service .) Ashley was the first one up the stairs and she could tell I wasn’t ok. The thing was not only did I have to explain to people that I was bleeding, I also had to explain to them that I was supposed to be 11 weeks pregnant. I softly told her what was going on and thankfully she’s always been an angel on Earth to me and without hesitation took over the kids upstairs and told me to leave my girls car seats down stairs and they could stay with her. As I walked downstairs I was met with my mom who was already in tears. You have to know my mom, she’s very emotional. It’s not a bad thing at all . We are just completely opposite when it comes to emotions. She lets them out , where I have a tendency to keep them bottled up and then explode. My dad is going to get in his truck frantically knowing this isn’t something he can protect his baby (me ) from. They drove me to Thomaston and mom sat in the backseat with me while dad drove. Matt took the car seats out of our car and said he would meet us there to go ahead and go.

The whole way to the hospital my mom was telling me not to worry until we knew what was going on. I told her I knew. It wasn’t right. Things just didn’t feel right. I had an unsettling feeling. I’ve always had a gift of knowing when something isn’t right, and I just knew. But for the sake of my mom and dad and my precious husband who was speeding and actually beat us to the hospital I decided to remain optimistic.

When we got to the hospital Matt called his parents, his job and a few other people we knew we had to tell. I sat and waited patiently and they finally got us in a room. I don’t remember to much about the next few hours because I think I blocked most of it out. I do remember it took a while and the ER was relatively busy. The AMAZING nurse and P.A. took such great care of me. If it wasn’t for those 2 amazing ladies and Matt I think I would have lost it. They took me back for an ultrasound. If you have never had an ultrasound like this, let me explain. They bring you in the room, lay you down, turn the computer away from you, keep a very good poker face , and don’t tell you a thing. I know that’s protocol and I’m not complaining. It’s just the hardest thing to sit through when you know what’s on their mind, but they can’t say anything. They just smile and say “the doctor will have results soon”. It was tough. Really tough. But again in my heart I knew what to expect. God was already preparing me to hear this news, and I knew it. But I didn’t want to believe it.

About an hour later the P.A comes back in the room. The sweetest, most sincere human being I’ve ever met walked into my room with Matt standing by my side and said “based on the ultrasound we could not find a heartbeat and it looks like the baby stopped growing around 8 weeks 4 days.” My heart sank. I wanted to fall apart , but I knew who I was. I knew that wasn’t me and that I didn’t show emotion. So I tried to hold it in. She could tell I wasn’t ok. She sat down and in the sweetest , softest voice comforted me in a way I can’t even explain. In that moment a peace came over me I can’t even explain. The moment she walked out of the room was the most real and raw moment for me. I fell apart for about 2 minutes. I will forever be grateful for Emily. Kate , my nurse , was just as equally amazing. They advised me to go home and come back if I have any pain that was unbearable (at that time I had not). They gave me a pain pill and sent me home.

I got home and gathered some clothes for my parents to take to my friends house for my girls. It was late so we decided to try to sleep. I didn’t even get to sleep before I started having excruciating pain. I’m not talking about contraction pain really. This was the absolute worse pain I have even been in my entire life. I felt like someone was stabbing me repeatedly. I couldn’t lay down or sit up. And standing brought me to my knees. I tried heating pads, a shower, everything I could think of. Finally I woke up Matt and said we have to go back. We got there and My sweet P.A had gone home. Luckily the nurse was still there , but the doctor working that night refused to call my doctor and told me “yeah that’s going to happen , she will give you more medication. Go home and call doctor in the morning.” Great bedside manner, huh? We went home and I got 30 minutes of sleep with the pain pill and it started again , and by this time I was bleeding ALOT. I powered through the night spending most of my time in the shower and in the bathroom trying to keep it together , but I wasn’t together. I think Matt thought I was going to die. Heck I thought I was going to die. I spent most of the night and morning in the shower laying back during the good moments and sitting forward during a contraction. After the doctor office opened we finally got a chance to go in at 10 and my mom and dad sat in the car with my while Matt told them I was there. I couldn’t go in. Partly because I was in so much pain , and I was losing blood like crazy. I had lost so much my mom wrapped an old comforter around my waist when I went in because I had ruined my clothes I changed right before leaving. (We live 1 min from doctors office). Luckily they let me come in the back door of the office and did a quick ultrasound and saw that my sweet baby was still inside of me, and I was not having it on my own. One of the ladies came in and looked at me and said “she needs to go across the street immediately, she is as pale as a ghost.”

They called my doctor , who was already across the street at the hospital for deliveries. She said “send her over now!” As soon as I walked in they wisked me back to a pre op room. Got the ready and took me to an OR. I still remember the sweet man in the ambulatory room who took care of me. He was so sweet and lighthearted and just bought me joy during my time of sadness. Once in the ER I remember the guy in the room getting me ready. The small conversation they were having with each other and I remember he was listening to music. I remember him asking me my favorite type of music and I honestly can’t remember what I said, but we talked for a bit about music. I remember asking for warm blankets because I was so cold. They kept pulling them straight out of the warmer and onto me and it felt so good. Then I was out. The next thing I remember was waking up and having my doctor come to check on me. She was so apologetic for the doctor the night before that sent me home. For the purposes of her privacy and the privacy of the other nurses and the P.A I’m just using first names. Joy (my doctor) was just that. An absolute Joy. She bought me so much peace that day. Her and the ambulatory guy and a few others signed a card with their sympathies that I still have to this day.

Next thing I remember I was on my way home and for the next 2 days my friend kept my girls while I tried to process the last 2 days. It was hard and sometimes I still don’t think I’ve processed it. My heart still breaks a little every time I think of those days. It’s been 2 years and it is still fresh on my memory like it was yesterday.

They say that naming the baby helps. Well we have no idea if it was a boy or girl and won’t know until we see him/ her in heaven, but I wanted to honor 3 women so we did that. First, was Emily the P.A. . Second, Kate the nurse and third was my amazing grandmother who had passed away just 6 months before. So we gave the baby the name Emily-Kate Frances Knight. It’s hard and sometimes I ask myself if it was silly giving the baby a name , but it’s really helped me cope.

The hard part is after those next few days people stopped talking about it. They tiptoe around it when it is brought up. Not everyone does that, but some do. For most it’s like it never happened. But for me it’s like it just happened. Miscarriage is hard because people don’t register that you lost a child. They think well you never held that child so I mean does it count? Yes it counts. To that mother and father it counts. To the woman that carried that child until he or she went to heaven, it counts. To the woman scarred by the memory of watching the ultrasound tech look at her with an expressionless face while she tries to decipher what it means .. it counts. And one day when my children understand a little more they will hear this story and to them with a sibling living in heaven , it counts. To My oldest 2 babies who lost a little sibling it counts. To my youngest daughter who lost a big sibling it counts. It’s hard for people who have had a miscarriage to get anyone to understand, but for those who do know someone who has lost a baby before being able to hold that child let me help you out.

Things not to say : “well you can just have another baby” or “what do you think went wrong” or “it just wasn’t meant to be” Things to say: “I have no idea what to say. I’m so sorry and I’m praying for you and your entire family, and even though I can’t offer much advice because I’ve never been through this , im here for you if you need to talk and if you need anything at all I’m here. Oh and also it’s ok to need to be alone and to rest.”

I never want another woman to go through the pain a miscarriage causes or the heartache but just know if you do that you aren’t alone and I’m here if you need to talk. I’m still processing and dealing with things my self 2 years later. There is no time limit to grief. We all handle it differently.

Truths about being married to a Police Officer

  1. You will never decide where to sit on a date again, you will always have your back to the door, and he will always face it
  2. be prepared for uniform attire to take over your house , at least your bedroom.
  3. Your kids will know gun safety and they will know it early
  4. those uniforms you love so much? yeah they must be taken out of the dryer immediately or you will iron or steam forever. If you aren’t prepared for that you might as well add a dry cleaning bill to your monthly budget
  5. His car is his office and you will find yourself at Walmart so that he can look for different ways to organize it..
  6. Don’t be jealous, you must have thick skin. I can’t tell you how many times you will hear the words “you look so different with clothes on”. My mom has heard it and so have I and they mean out of uniform, don’t get offended.
  7. That brings me to my next point, the local waffle house will know his order and the ladies at waffle house and Walmart will more than likely call him “honey” “sweetie” or “dear” get used to it .
  8. He doesn’t get holidays off unless his off day falls on that day and sometimes not even then.. Don’t get crazy you know they need police even on the holidays, and sometimes more on holidays
  9. He will always have his phone, because hes always technically on call. If they need him even if its a choice he will be there because they are his family too.
  10. As soon as he gets his badge learn how to pin it on him. He will more than likely have a pinning ceremony at some and you don’t want to look crazy . Trust me its not as easy as it looks
  11. Be prepared to do meal prep! Cook the meals and learn to put them in Tupperware for him later.
  12. Don’t think you will be rich.

Ok, so I have been in a police family since birth, so almost 30 years. I believe that gives me the experience to tell you what its like to be in a family with and be married to a police officer. This is not to bash them at all! I love all of my police officers in my family and even a good bit who aren’t in my family, but that I consider family. A lot of women say they love a man in uniform and while yes he’s cute, be prepared for whats to come if you expect to last!

Truth about Pinterest

Woah , I’m stepping on some toes I know.. Now don’t get me wrong I have Pinterest on my phone and LOVE it, but I am far from a “Pinterest Mom”. It’s just not my thing. I hate throwing parties, and making cookies for every holiday.

I tried…

It’s like before you get married and settle down you are the girl trying to measure up and get those likes on insta or facebook, and get those retweets on twitter, and then you get married and have kids and the game changes… well kinda.

From the day that sweet little chubby faced child was born a light switched on. I must have everything monogrammed, I must find new ways to organize my closet, I must have the best newborn pictures, I must have an amazing first birthday party, I must order them a new outfit for every holiday… New Years, Valentines, St Patricks day , Easter, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, 4th of July, Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas…. and that doesn’t include first days… first day of 2 year old class, first day of 3 year old class, first day of pre-k. The list goes on and on. And lets not forget school parties.. you have to have the best goody bags .

I really wanted to be that mom and I tried a for a bit, but then one day I stopped and looked at my kids and thought to myself is this for me or them? Now don’t get me wrong some of the things we do will make a difference to them in the future and create lots of memories for them, but most things don’t matter to this child.

If you can do the millions of pinterest ideas and enjoy it then please do it, but for moms like myself that were not blessed with the perfectionist gene… DON’T STRESS! It is not the end of the world.. Your child will love you unconditionally and it will not matter to them if they had a new embroidered t-shirt for first days or holidays or cookies made from scratch, ( that you probably kicked them out of the kitchen in the process of making or raised your voice at least once), or if you buy a shirt from the store or don’t buy one at all and get some cookies from the bakery. They don’t care.. honestly I promise.

Please don’t worry about it .. Its almost like you are mom shaming yourself.. It’s so funny that we are constantly sharing things about mom shaming (which I’m sure I will do a blog on because I can’t stand it), but the main enemy is yourself. If you can’t be a perfectionist then why are you wasting time, energy, and sanity in trying to impress a 6 year old?

What our kids want from us is love, hugs, snuggles, kisses, safety, playing outside and getting dirty, and just spending time with you , even if that means watching a movie.. They don’t care if you can make the perfect teacher gifts, or make the best goody bags, or cook the perfect meal..

They just want you momma! Stop being hard on yourself and just breathe and enjoy those babies, and be proud of those mommies who can do those things, without being jealous that you can’t!


Truths about Daddy ……

Hey ! So I decided that there are far to many serious blogs out there. While they are needed, sometimes they can get overwhelming. In reality a mom just wants to relate, and while we do relate to the more serious blogs sometimes, other times we just want to read light hearted stuff we all relate too. Or at least I do …….

So first things first, let’s talk about Daddy. Yes daddy. The best friend , the provider, the good cop most of the time, and in my case quite literally . Don’t get me wrong I love my hubs but does it annoy anyone else that daddy is only a daddy when his kids are around? Otherwise they can go about their lives , and no one ever mentionsthe kids to them

Now its not their fault by any means, its society..

Let me set the scene…

My husband is off work on one of the few days that actually happens and I take the chance to escape to get the dog food we need from the store…. alone…. for the first time in days. I plug in my phone and jam out to my music instead of the daily “Trolls” theme song, or “Overcomer” by Mandisa or “staring at the stop sign” as my 5 year old calls it, or my personal favorite the bad name song also known as ” You Give Love A Bad Name” by Bon Jovi. Don’t get me wrong all of these songs are fantastic but when you have heard them on repeat for 11 days straight everytime you get in the car its nice to hear your own songs for a change!

Anyway, I pull up and I don’t have to park next to a buggy return! yay. So I walk in and leisurely stroll along, and dip down the clothing aisle, kids of course, while I had a chance to look. Wouldn’t you know I’m gonna see someone I know , and then it happens… everytime and if you are a mom you know what is coming….

“Hey , Where are the kids?” They are with their daddy….. “Well what a good daddy to watch the kids, it must be nice to be out without the kids..” and while yes it is nice, how many times is that reversed? How many times does a man go out and here, “where are your kids?” or “how are the kids?” The answer to that question is never, They get asked normal questions like ” How are you doing?” or ” How is work going?”. Its just truth people.. and where do you get off saying , “its so nice of him to watch the kids!” or “wow you are out of the house without the kids .” or even ” everytime I see you, you never have the kids”. But you see me in the kids section shopping for clothes for my kids, or with their favorite cereal and trail mix my husband likes in the buggy… When you see him I guarantee he is in the car , or hunting section, with a buggy of ammo, a hunting bag, or some car stuff for his police car.

It happens in other ways too. Somehow or another society has made dads less responsible for their own children than their moms. At what point did that happen? Last time I checked he was there for all of the vital parts of this child’s existence. For most of us he was there at the birth, but then somehow or another after the child came into this world it was the sole responsibility of the mom to feed, clothe, and bathe the child. Yes for most of us the dad does pay for all of these things, but does that make him exempt from having to be asked all of the questions we get asked when we get 5 minutes to ourselves?

Now I took this post very seriously and even asked my husband if he has ever been asked where the kids were or how they were doing when he was out in public, and his answer: No. I’m telling you guys its insane . While I love my husband more than anything I don’t give him a cookie when he stays home to “watch” his children,, should I? hmmm .