Brooklynn’s Miscarriage: A story of empowerment.

To begin this story I need to take you all back two months prior to this pregnancy.

In July of 2021, our family (my husband Troy, my 1.5 year old Isla, and I) had just bought a 200 year old farm house to quickly renovate to make livable and move into ASAP.

For the time being, we would be living first at my dad’s house while we stripped the house down to its bones, and then move into a camper on the property until we could get into the house.

Dreamy right?!

But it was for us! I walked this 16 acre property with my daughter in hand, envisioning a life for us here, with a sibling for her to run around and explore this new place with .

It was magical, no, divine, when we found ourselves pregnant just 2 weeks after moving onto this property. With paint stained hands and in a bathroom that had no walls, I took a test on whim after finding my toiletry box packed away.

And to my complete and utter shock, a red line appeared in the matter of seconds.

in the camper sitting on our new property

It was like the universe was confirming this transition for our family! Affirming our move and this huge undertaking. Saying, '“YES! This is where you are meant to be!”.

Until my intuition started to whisper no. Something wasn’t right.

For a few days I had been cramping and eventually started bleeding. I knew some women could bleed during pregnancy and I chalked it up to that. After a few days however, I called my practitioner’s office through Hurley Hospital in Flint. They advised me to wait to come in until my appointment which was a few days away.

I made two calls to them worried about the bleeding and cramping, but still I was told to wait until my first ultrasound appointment to come in.

I dropped my daughter off at a friend’s house the day of my scheduled appointment and held back tears as I noticed cramping coming every 10 minutes.

I asked for my Angels to help me, help my baby, and I looked for any sign that would tell me things were going to be ok.

Then this song, that I had never heard before, and to this day have not heard again, came on the radio and I knew. My baby was my Angel and was with me in that moment.

I found myself 13.5 weeks pregnant, in the office finally for our first appointment. Battling at the front desk, the contractions which had gradually made themselves more consistent throughout the day, now happening every 2 minutes.

Just days before I was trick or treating with my almost 2 year old, running to the bathroom frequently to change a bloody pad.

our family dressed up as the wizard of OZ as a group this year

Now I laid back on the table and held my breath, waiting for the words I knew were coming. The air in the room was still. The tension was heavy. Eventually the tech told me she didn’t have good news for me, and I knew exactly what that meant.

At 13.5 weeks I saw my baby for the first time, one who had stopped growing at 9 weeks. I asked for a picture of our baby and we left after a brief explanation of what to expect with miscarriage.

I wanted to be home, to be with my daughter and husband.

I didn’t make it to the elevator before I needed to go to the bathroom. My contractions were getting too intense.

It was there in the hospital bathroom I undressed and felt myself surrender to the waves of labor that were happening. I had never naturally birthed before but in this moment I recognized the instinctual behaviors I started to move through. The swaying, the moaning, the squatting.

Eventually I knew on the toilet to start pushing when I would feel that intense pressure, my contractions. Relief came. I felt strong. I was surrounded by light, who was that?

I was the most powerful I had ever been, in the most unexpected way.

My baby was born there in the hospital, down the hall from where I had seen them for the first time just 15 minutes before.

My story unfortunately doesn’t end there.

Alone in that bathroom I eventually called from Troy, who waited just outside not knowing what was happening.

I told him to grab someone because I was in so much pain at the time.

By the time she arrived (the same doctor who had told me I would miscarry) the pain was gone and I was dressed. She seemed confused and I told her I miscarried there on the toilet, and I was feeling dizzy.

Long story short, my low blood pressure sent us to the ER of Hurley Hospital, which was conveniently connected to the women’s center.

Once admitted, I watched the clowns unload from the car and the performance of the circus began to unravel in front of me.

Nurses seemed to have no clue that I lost my baby just moments before in a hall no further than a football field away from their nurses station.

What were they doing just moments ago?

My room seemed to be a pile over station for whomever needed a place to go. One nurse came into an already full room and exclaimed, “Oh, it’s a party!”

Little did they seem to know it was in-fact the birthday party of my baby.

The same questions came, “why was I dizzy”, “what about my blood pressure?”.

I was irritated.

Eventually, the ER doctor took out an ultrasound to check the status of my uterus. There seemed to be a lot of fluid, “that could be blood”, she explained.

She was checking for an ectopic pregnancy.

That sent me over. An ectopic pregnancy… in my fallopian tubes??

She asked, “Are you sure you were even pregnant?”.

Holy. Shit.

Did she not have a clue what I just went through minutes ago? There was no baby in my tubes, it had been very much in my uterus, and now was not.

I told her I had the print out of the ultrasound right there in my pocket. And at that point I was done.

After realizing I was indeed pregnant with a baby in my uterus, she left the room and asked her nurse to hook me up to an IV (per hospital policy) and I complied, but started to ask why the heck I was even here.

This is where I lost it. This poor girl couldn’t stick an IV. Countless times, and then with the appearance of purple bruising around the veins. I asked her to just stop and leave.

Finally, I broke down, and cried for the first time. I told my husband I needed to go home. My body did the work, and now I needed to be home.

That same nurse went out to tell the ER doctor I was requesting to leave, and minutes later she returned. Before opening the door I could clearly hear that doctor say, “She must be blaming herself”.

The HELL?!

This doctor wore a mask (at this point in 2021), but I know her.

I can see her eyes, I know her face, and I’ve mesmerized her voice.

She was trying to take my reality and twist it.

She couldn’t believe what I was feeling, what I was telling her, without picture evidence.

She is everything I am determined to challenge from this day forward.

My story is many things. Filled with grief and sadness, rage, and ironically(or not) with empowerment, triumph, and strength.

I couldn’t understand how something that seemed so serendipitous, was gone in a moment. I had questions still.
But I also walked away with so many answers.

Birth was natural. My body knew what to do. I COULD have a vaginal birth after a cesarean, because I just did.

My baby and I had a purpose together, even in that short time.

This baby is my Angel and they are such a huge part in my beliefs about birth and the power every women possesses. We all have our story and journey of discovering that power, and this was a huge part of mine.

Do you have an experience you want to share with our Michigan Mama community? We’d love to hear all about it!

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