Thursday, August 22, 2013


I know I totally just went from crazy happy to depressing. Life just handed me the crappy end of the stick. The number one thing I can say is – you have no idea how it truly feels, until it happens to you. I knew of woman that had miscarriages and I knew it must be horrible but I never knew the exact depth or extent. In February of this year we decided to start trying for baby number three, being that we wanted all our children close in age. It didn’t take long because that monthly visit never came and we were pregnant! I was so excited I could hardly stand it; I was also vomiting my brains out so bad I could hardly stand it. I’ve had morning sickness with both my boys but this…THIS was horrible. I couldn’t even keep down water. My doctor prescribed me my new bff named Zofran. He was amazing, what morning sickness? Everything seemed to be going fine. My doctor made our first ultrasound around 11 weeks of pregnancy. I thought this was odd because with both my boys I had ultrasounds on my first appointments which were around 5-6 weeks of pregnancy. Both times I saw my healthy boys & heard healthy heartbeats. I expected this time to be no different. I spent six weeks anxiously awaiting that appointment. I could not stand to go another minute without hearing my baby’s heartbeat. It was killing me. Finally the day had come! I had already announced my pregnancy allllllll over Facebook and told all of our family because both of my pregnancies before had been fine. I expected this one to be no different. Boy was I in for a shock. I lied down ready to hear my child’s heart beat when my doctor put the Doppler up against my stomach. Nothing. I heard nothing. He searched and searched for about 15 minutes trying to find it. Nothing. I was scared but I though...hey I have a tilted uterus, maybe my baby’s so far back they can’t hear it. They immediately put us in an ultrasound room; it was all downhill from then. I have a pretty good idea about what I should see on an ultrasound. I had this big screen TV in front of me and all I could see was a big space of black nothingness. Heartbroken was an understatement. I still thought maybe I’m just earlier along that I thought. They then took us into the doctor’s office where he sat us down and explained to us that the baby I had stopped developing at some point and I should expect to miscarry. I thought they were freaking nuts. I had absolutely no signs of miscarriage and I felt fine! I went home and googled anything and everything I could find which was the biggest mistake. I began to believe that my tilted uterus was preventing them from seeing the baby on ultrasound. I was in denial and shock. I still decided to explain the situation to family and friends, talk about horrible.  Everyone’s apologies were the last thing I wanted to hear when I still believed in my heart I was carrying a perfectly fine child. I waited…and waited to miscarry. I even had a repeat ultrasound done two weeks later to make sure they were right. Baby still wasn’t developing. I had a big empty 9 week gestational sac. I still didn’t believe them. I waited another two weeks, and I finally started miscarrying at 13 weeks of pregnancy. I was so nervous to have a D&C so I chose naturally. For two weeks I was weak, and sick. Miserable. That’s when everything hit me all at once. I lost my baby. Depression set it. Anger. I was angry at everyone. Why the hell did this happen to me and what did I do to deserve this? I wanted that baby more than anything on this entire planet. I had already picked out names and planned out how I wanted the nursery. I had already scheduled my gender ultrasound. I was going insane. People say things that they think will make you feel better but it just doesn’t. It makes you angry. I had people tell me I already had two healthy babies, I was blessed. That didn’t make me feel better. Just because I had two healthy babies didn’t make me love my third any less…it didn’t make that loss any easier. It in fact made it even more difficult. I had already thought about what my child would look like, who they would be like, everything. It doesn’t matter how far along you are when you lose a child, or if you have zero children, or five children. It is still the loss of a child. That woman has already made plans for her child and become emotionally attached. Like I said, you have no idea what it is like until you are in the position. Guilt. Feeling guilty about it all is the worst part. After the past few weeks of therapy I have finally come to realize this was not my fault. There was nothing I could have done to prevent this. At the time I fully blamed myself. I would think and think and think. Did I drink too much coffee? Was I too stressed? Was it too soon after mayson? Was my body just done having children? Did I take on way too much? I was driving myself crazy. Even now four months later, I still drive myself crazy about the situation. People still make their comments about the situation and I still have a hard time not getting angry or upset. It is a daily battle with myself. I miss that child, I will always love that child and the one thing that helps me cope, is this quote. “Babies lost in the womb were never touched by fear; they were never cold, never hungry, never alone and importantly always knew love.” On my rough days I read that to myself over and over, and somehow it just makes me feel better. I’ve been having my hcg levels drawn every two weeks, as me and my husband are anxious to brush our shoulders off, get right back up & try again. It’s been four months and my body is STILL hanging on to HCG hormones left from baby. My last level was taken august thirteen and it was 92. Frustrating but all I can do is have patience and work on making myself the best mother possible along with getting myself as healthy as possible for the next chance at pregnancy. I was weary about putting all of this out, on the internet…on the public freaking internet…but in a sense this is therapy to me. Every time I write about the whole situation or talk about it I feel better. Every time I hear another woman’s story, I don’t feel so alone. I think it’s very important as a woman to speak out because not many have the strength to do so when dealing with miscarriage. I hope that through this I can help someone cope with their loss or guilt. I don’t care if this helps one person…or even five people. I just want to help someone and let them know that they aren’t alone, it’s not your fault, and you did absolutely nothing to deserve to have that dream taken from you. Life happens. It just happens. All you can do is hold your memory of your child close to you and try to move on with life the best way you know how. That’s all I’m trying to do. And it’s still an insane obstacle to overcome. RIP sweet baby, I miss you and one day I will see you again. You are in a much better place, the safest place in the world. You are never forgotten.

A little background...

So before I start off this blog rambling about everyday life, I figured it would be a good thing if I caught you up to date with what has happened in my life thus far. Before I had children, let’s just be honest, I was a crazy twenty year old with no direction what so ever. I had no idea what I wanted to do at that moment besides go out and party with friends, let alone no idea what the heck I wanted to do for the rest of my life career & college degree wise. My parents were quite frankly fed up with my antics & having a grandmother with a doctorate and a mother with a bachelor’s degree meant I had better do something soon before they strangled me. I chose dental assisting, as it was the quickest easiest thing for me to do at that point in time. Once I finished the schooling I realized I needed to get the heck out of town. It was obvious to me and everyone else I was hanging with the wrong crowd and getting into trouble I shouldn’t be in. I had always wanted to move so I did. I ended up moving in with my grandmother, about 12 hours north of where I lived before - while working at a dental office so I could save up some money before getting my own place. This was the last place I wanted to live, but I had a job and this was the most accomplished I had been since high school, my parents were pleased and I wasn’t about to screw that up. It didn’t take long before I was bored out of my mind, missing my friends and wanted to meet new people, so I did exactly that. Long story short – I met someone and after only talking for a few weeks, and seeing each other maybe a handful of times, tequila took over and two weeks later…BAM. I was twenty years old and pregnant. I could barely take care of myself let alone another child – not to mention by someone I barely even knew. Reality quickly set in and I made a doctor’s appointment. All it took was that first ultrasound and first heartbeat and any doubt I had that I couldn’t do it disappeared. I loved that child from that first glimpse. My baby was a little flutter on a screen, but it was mine and I loved it. Fast forward to 32 weeks of pregnancy, we were expecting a little baby boy. That week I had felt sicker than usual, something just didn’t feel quite right and intuition kicked in. I decided to go up to the woman’s center to get checked out, expecting that I was just being overly anxious and crazy and that nothing would be wrong. All would be okay with me and baby & id get to go back home. Well I thought wrong. The next morning after spending all night hooked up to iv’s in the hospital my doctor came in and explained that I had severe preeclampsia and that neither he or the hospital in the small town I lived in was capable of caring for a premature baby. They then put me in an ambulance and rushed me to another hospital three hours away. I was freaking the fuck out. After two days at that hospital and running hundreds of tests, and ultrasounds they decided I needed to have my son ASAP before things got any worse.  I was given steroid shots that night and induced the next morning. The doctors had recommended to me that I should have a c section because it was safer for the baby, but I was so against it and I wanted to at least try. After 9 hours of labor I begged for a c section, begged.  At 12:18 pm on September 3rd, 2010 – I gave birth to a tiny 3 pound 6 ounce little boy named Memphis Ryan Stephens. He was healthy and perfect in every little way. Fast forward to December 2010, I became a single mother. I decided to go back to school and move back with my grandmother so she could help me with Memphis. It was rough. I love the saying “you never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.” It is SO TRUE. All I’m going to say is that, that relationship was not meant to be and I knew that from the beginning. I just wanted to give it my all, for my son. It took me a year to realize my son and I would be better off on our own. After a few months I met, my husband. I met him on my birthday in 2011, and from the minute he came up to me and asked me to sit next to him, the rest was history.  He was amazing.  He treated me like a complete princess and I knew he was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.  We decided we wanted a child of our own together. He had already met Memphis and was amazing with him and I wasn’t so crazy about having another baby because I had literally just had Memphis, but he had convinced me. On May 17, 2012 at 12:12 pm I gave birth to a healthy six pound fifteen ounce little boy named Mayson Carter Silvestri. That’s right; I have TWO rambunctious little boys – eighteen months apart! It is crazy but I love how close they are and I wouldn’t have it any other way. My husband and I were married on September 29, 2012. We are now a family of four and happy as can be. I would have never ever in a million years pictured this when I day dreamed about my life and what I would do when I was older, who I would marry, how many kids I would have. I am extremely blessed and lucky to have all that I have. I took a semester off of school this past January and my husband and I decided I should just stay being a stay at home mom. It is the most rewarding position for me and I can’t picture myself doing anything else. I have fallen in love with being a mother and obsessing over these perfect little humans I created. My husband and I are so obsessed that we are crazy enough to want a third child. Yes that’s correct, a THIRD child. We decided before marriage on having three children, my husband is the youngest of three, and I am the oldest of three. Which leads into my next post… miscarriage and trying to conceive baby numero tres. 

Mayson Carter - Left. Memphis Ryan - Right.