(Mis)carriage: processing grace

life2 Comments on (Mis)carriage: processing grace

(Mis)carriage: processing grace

My doc recommended I check in with a hematologist. I have a blood clotting disorder and now seems like a good time to review this part of my health.

The hematologist’s office called today and I made an appointment which includes filling out some online paper work. If there’s one area of life within which I wish all the systems worked together, it’s the medical realm. Skip privacy laws. Every doc should have automatic access to everything every other doc in my life has ever said/seen/done regarding my healthcare and it should automatically load into the new doc’s system.

I loath paperwork.

Well, as part of all this I have to input my medical history, of course, which includes my surgery history. Due to how annoying it is to recall and scour my online calendar, I’ve now created a note with all the details. The abbreviated account is:

  1. D&C 2013
  2. Tooth extraction 2013
  3. Myomectomy 2013
  4. C-section 2014
  5. D&C 2016
  6. C-section 2017

I couldn’t initially find the date for the second D&C. Perhaps not adding it to my calendar was an unconscious attempt to make it go away. Eventually, I did a general search on my entire computer and found an email to my board with the D&C date. Perfect!

Here’s the email:
January 4, 2016

Justin & I have very unexpected and sad news to share. We found out this morning that I’ve miscarried. I found out I was pregnant December 5. Baby was due August 9. That would have been pretty wild with school around the corner, right?

I’m sharing this sparingly and ask for privacy and confidentiality on your end. I’ve miscarried once before and was eventually public about it. I’m sure the same will happen with this one because I’ve found the honesty quite healing for myself and others who’ve walked in these shoes, shoes that are often silent.

I share this with you because it’s going to impact work. I’m scheduled for a D&C this Thursday morning to remove the fetus. I’ll stay home Friday. I’m scheduled to be at Cohutta Monday for ministers mtgs. The surgery is out patient and doesn’t have major after effects so recovery is short which is why working Monday won’t be a stretch. But I’ll certainly take it all one day at a time.

On the emotional side of things, having been through this before makes this time different especially since we now have a healthy child. It’s only been a few hours since we found out about the miscarriage so I’m sure how I’m thinking will continue to shift as the hours pass. For now, I’ve moved between tears and planning mode and I expect the waves to continue. Do I sound unemotional? Well, don’t worry. I’ll have enough emotion for 10 women in the days to come.

How can you help? I’m not sure. Keila gets here this evening. I’m planning to meet her at the house. I’m going to see if a few students can take her out for supper.

Your prayers are definitely appreciated.


And now I’m full of a sadness I can only describe this way:

Oh, Michaela.

I wish you’d known how to hit the pause button. You’re doing a little better these days but oh my word! Only one day off? Were you afraid of using up too many vacation days? Were you afraid of not being present to your new assistant chaplain? Were you afraid of sitting in the discomfort of loss? Were you afraid that not showing up to ministers mtgs would look bad even though the VP said you didn’t have to be there?

What in the world were you thinking/feeling that would make it okay in your head to get back up so quickly? And I say that without negative judgement. I say that wishing I could have intervened, wishing I knew how to convince you that losing a(nother) child deserves at least a few days off. Sure, the procedure didn’t require a hospital stay but…oh honey, your heart. I’m amazed. No, not impressed. Amazed. Amazed you didn’t break.

To the woman who has just miscarried…

For this there is no clear next step. There is no roadmap. You probably can’t read your way through it, though the miscarriage books are easier to find these days.

You do have this moment. Be here as best you can. You won’t understand your grief 5 years from now and my dear, you don’t have to.

Grace. Hold on to her.

2 thoughts on “(Mis)carriage: processing grace

  1. Michaela! We know that pain all too well! It was traumatic for us for me! I’m so sorry you too have experienced the pain of loss and the surgery that follows. The entire process…. I’m so sorry! I wish I lived close to you. I hope you have a community of sisterhood/women that can be supportive. The truth is it doesn’t matter how much time that goes by the emotions can hit. Keep writing! Thinking of you.

  2. Tender words for wounded souls. I have not experienced miscarriage – I appreciate a glimpse into what those who have dealt with this must wrestle with.

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