I wanted to do this blog for therapy for myself but I also wanted to do this blog to help others who have gone through or will go through this. Disclaimer: ⚠️There may be triggers in this blog if you have had a pregnancy loss. Some may be offended that I put all the details about my experience out there and I’m sorry for that.
Sometimes I feel that I need to explain myself, explain the way I tick, because people tend to understand me better after I do that. I’m actually classified as an ambivert, which is basically an introvert with extrovert-like qualities. When I have to bring out my extrovert qualities, I will do it, but I prefer to be more introverted. I bring this up because I had an incredibly hard time with the loss I’m going to talk about, partly because I found (in my experience) that not a lot of people talk about it. I found several great books which I read, but there were only a couple of books that went into great detail about the experience.
The fact is that very few people want to talk about this thing called miscarriage or stillbirth. I can understand why that would be the case, but it does make going through it tougher. I found myself asking my close friends or therapist, “Is this normal to be thinking these crazy thoughts?” The truth is pregnancy loss is not easy to talk about, but it’s necessary. I had a miscarriage/stillbirth at 19-20 weeks and it was one of the worst things that has happened to me in my entire life.
I found out that my husband and I were pregnant with our fifth child (yes fifth) right after the pandemic got real in mid April 2020. My due date would have been January 2021. We had our miscarriage/stillbirth at 19-20 weeks. Did you know that there is a distinction between miscarriage and stillbirth at the 20 week mark? I didn’t. Anything before 20 weeks is a “miscarriage” and anything after is a “stillbirth” if the baby dies in utero. The fact that there is distinction used to make me so angry. A baby is a baby.
Because of the pandemic, patients were not seen in person at my OB clinic for safety reasons. I had to demand to be seen at my 19-20 week appointment. I did not think anything was wrong but because I had not actually been to the clinic to have the baby checked at all until that point, I thought it was a good idea. I was 41 at the time, which is considered older for pregnancy, so I was trying to be safe. To be honest, I was surprised that they allowed it and also surprised that the option was not advertised.
I went to the appointment with my nurse practitioner (and friend) Jen. She could not find the heartbeat with the doppler device, so she grabbed the sonogram. I didn’t think anything of it because Jen said this sort of thing happened all the time. When she was unable to find the heartbeat with the sonogram device Jen called in the doctor. At this point I was already balling my eyes out. Oh, and did I mention that my husband could not be in the room for the appointment? It was really tough not having him there. Plus, the doctor who was called in to confirm that there was no heartbeat had absolutely no bedside manner. I really do wish that it had been just Jen with me if my husband couldn’t be there.
Jen just let me cry without saying anything which is what I needed. To this day I still think about what this doctor said to me, “Don’t worry. You didn’t do anything to cause this unless you were doing street drugs during your pregnancy.” I know this was probably the doctors’ attempt at humor in a horrible situation, but the timing was off. Also, she was a green suiter (in the Army like myself) so I felt like she had the attitude that I needed to just suck it up. I’m so glad Jen stayed there until they allowed Joe (my husband) to come up to the room at the clinic.
Joe and I stayed in the room for a while until the doctor came back to tell us our options. Our options were to induce labor and deliver the baby at the hospital or have what is called a D&C (Dilation and Curettage) which is a surgical procedure where the baby would basically be sucked out along with the “products of conception.” This procedure is very similar to what happens when a woman has an abortion. I chose to have labor induced so I could see my tiny little baby. Others might find that morbid but I would not have had it any other way. I’m glad to have my memories of little Isaiah Daniel.
After we finally left and I got ahold of myself emotionally (somewhat), I called my friend and coworker (Mike) to let him know what had happened. I asked him to please tell only those who needed to be told. I really didn’t want the whole company knowing about what happened. Some things are better kept private on a need to know basis. He told my platoon sergeant who then told my command team (first sergeant and commander). Our commander at the time was brand new and Fort Drum, NY was his first duty station. Our First Sergeant was just filling in for our actual First Sergeant who was on convalescent (sick) leave.
When Joe and I got home, neither of us wanted to cook a meal so he went with my two youngest kiddos to grab some take-out from somewhere. I was still in absolutely no condition to speak with anybody at that point but I answered a call from my acting First Sergeant. I was balling which I was sure was awkward for him, so I told him that I would call him when I was ready to talk. I think that was a reasonable way to respond given the situation that I was in.
Fast forward no more than 30 minutes:
My daughter comes running up the stairs to my room where I was balling my eyes out. “Mom, there are some army guys at the front door.” I thought —OMG it’s the MPs (military police) and they’re going to tell me that my husband and my two babies got into a car accident. Yes, my mind went there because that’s what trauma can do to your brain. I could not see who it was in the peephole, so I opened the door. It was my commander and acting First Sergeant standing there. They could not tell because I kept my emotions in check, but I about blew a gasket right there. I was thinking– who in their right mind shows up at someone’s house right after they find out that their child has passed away.
Thank you, Jesus for allowing me to keep my composure in that moment. If I was a younger soldier without the life experience that I have had, you better believe that I would have had some words in that moment. It was so awkward, to say the least, because it was total radio silence from both my commander and my acting First Sergeant. I said something to the effect of, “Why are you here?” And my commander said something like, “we just wanted to see how you were doing.” I was thinking how do you think I’m doing, sir. How would you be doing in my situation? This whole time my hair was looking a mess and I was in my pajamas. And also I was balling and trying not to show that I was livid with anger.
First, I need to explain something to my readers about the military. In instances where a soldiers’ well being is in question, a situational report needs to be sent to higher headquarters. This is a part of procedure because of the military’s high rate of suicide. I have been in the military for over 20 years (combined reserve and active component time) and this situational report does not have to be sent up 30-45 minutes after someone finds out news like this. In fact, this is something that can and should be delegated to the lowest level. For example, since I had a close friendship with two guys in my team (Arthur and Mike), they could have come to my house and checked on me. If a commander trusts his leaders, this is what is done. In fact, my platoon sergeant at the time warned them (my acting First Sergeant and commander), that it was probably not a good idea to show up at my house without a courtesy call. Now my acting First Sergeant would claim that the phone call that he tried to make was his “courtesy call,” but in my view it’s trampling on someone’s boundaries and privacy when a person says that they are not in the right mind to talk and you come to their house anyway. I don’t even show up at a good friends’ house without a courtesy call. It would have been a different story if my acting First Sergeant said, “I’m sorry Sergeant Anders. We have to come and ‘check’ up on you. We are being ordered to by a higher authority.” That would be understandable.
I was not born yesterday and know that my command team’s actions had no malicious intent; however, in times of crisis leaders need to be more empathetic and handle situations like this with a lot more thought. They need to ask themselves, if I were in this person’s shoes would I want to be treated this way? Would I prefer a heads up? Would I treat my loved one this way? We are all sinful in the eyes of Lord and I am by no means perfect, but I have a deep compassion and empathy for all my soldiers. In fact, I have had a commander or First Sergeant ask me to check up on a soldier that was going through something really stressful or was just down in the dumps. You had better believe that there was never a surprise visit to a soldier’s barracks room without a heads up. I always treat people the way I want to be treated. Although the intent was not malicious in my case, my command team showed complete disregard for my boundaries and my privacy. I have heard folks say that you give up your right to privacy when you join the military, but I disagree with that because it depends on the empathy level of your leaders.
After Isaiah was delivered and I had calmed down about the situation (substantiality), I had an open door phone call with my commander. I believe it is our responsibility as leaders to have those difficult conversations with our superiors so that we train them to be better leaders the next time they deal with similar situations. I believe my commander was very appreciative of the feedback because I did it in a tactful manner. However, I do wish that was the last I had to deal with the situation. More about that later.
Labor and delivery called me the next day to come in at noon to have the baby delivered. I went in and because of COVID restrictions, Joe needed to go home and situate the kiddos before coming inside the hospital because once screened, he could not leave the hospital. Stupid right? I was dropped off and was really scared and still just so depressed. The nurse asked me several times if I wanted to talk to a Chaplain or counselor. I said I did not because it takes me a long time to have a trusting relationship with anyone. What I really wanted was my husband.
Joe got back to hospital a couple of hours later after putting my two youngest down for a nap and giving the babysitter instructions. The nurse and doctor came in to explain the procedure in detail. I had to take a medication called Misoprostol to induce labor. I was in labor for probably 7-8 hours. The contractions were worse with this labor than with any of the other babies. At first I was going to try and tough it out and not get the epidural, but I was in so much emotional pain and physical pain that I just gave in. My little angel baby Isaiah Daniel Anders was born at 10:31pm on August 1, 2020.
I’m pretty sure that if you haven’t been through it, you may not know this. I certainly didn’t. Delivering a stillborn baby is similar when it comes to the side effects as giving birth to a living baby. You have to wear those fun dreaded very thick pads that feel more like diapers because you are bleeding for about a week or two after the birth. You can be susceptible to postpartum depression; however, you also have the absolutely awful grieving of your loss as well. Your milk still comes in. And mine did and was super painful when it dried up. All of the same things happen but you don’t have that bundle of joy to bring home with you.
The nurse that we had in labor and delivery was absolutely awesome before delivery. She explained that she had 5 different pregnancy losses at various stages and she was so patient with me and answered all my questions. The doctor that we had was horrible and the nurse after morning shift change was horrible as well. The next nurse was definitely rushing me along and I didn’t want to put Isaiah back in the baby bassinet but she said it was time. She was very much in a rush to get me out of the room. The doctor (like the one at the clinic) had absolutely no bedside manner when it came to handling situations like the one I was going through. I’m a very awkward and weird person, but this lady screamed “AWKWARD.”
I need to share something else. This was my second pregnancy loss. With my first one I had no idea that I was pregnant until I was super late for my monthly friend and I took a pregnancy test. A couple of days later I had what is known as a chemical pregnancy loss which is just a really early pregnancy loss before the baby can be seen by ultrasound. Isaiah felt more real for me because I was starting to feel him move in my belly. Maybe this doesn’t sound rational but it just was.
What made dealing with my loss even more difficult? This is going to sound overly sensitive but I’m being honest. Sometimes people don’t really think before they speak which is what I’m all together more than used to being in the military for as long as I have been. But you don’t expect it from people at church. A lady at church (meaning well I’m sure) said, “You should be thankful for the children that you have.” At that moment I was thinking–so my Isaiah should mean nothing to me just because I have four other healthy children.
And also remember how I said that the commander and acting First Sergeant incident got dragged out. My actual First Sergeant called me up literally 3 days after I got out of the hospital and said I had no right to talk to the commander about how I was treated in that situation. So basically I was told that my commander was allowed to trample all over my boundaries and privacy if his intentions were not malicious. I’m sorry but this is another example of toxic leadership. My First Sergeant at that time took it upon himself to call me up on his convalecent leave and feed me the riot act. I know that he took it upon himself too because my platoon sergeant asked my commander if that phone call was prompted by him. My commander said that as far as he was concerned the whole situation was done and resolved. I took this whole situation to IG on my installation and they said I had a legitimate complaint not only against my commander but also against my first sergeant (especially if there was any kind of retribution happening). That was an issue that I did not have the will power to deal with at that point because I needed to PCS away (move to my next duty station) and I certainly didn’t want to draw that out. I had already been there at Fort Drum for 5 years for reasons that I would rather not get into on this blog post. I will save that for another day.
I had another situation where a friend told me that he thought I should stop grieving because my baby was just a fetus and not a real baby. This ticked me off beyond belief. Now if you believe that a baby is not a baby if it is in utero that is your prerogative but don’t try to push your beliefs on me. A baby is a baby. Even my first little chemical baby that I lost was a baby. Life starts at conception, baby! And you don’t get to tell me how long I can grieve. I was thinking it but I was so shocked that it came out of his mouth that I had to wait until the next day before I said something that I would regret.
Another thing that showed a lack of compassion by my leadership is selling the fact that they were moving me to a different job because they needed someone that they knew would pay attention to detail and do a good job. No one talked to me at all when I got back from my convalescent leave. It’s as if they were avoiding me like the plague. If you were my soldier, you had better believe that I would be checking up on you to show that I cared. My teammates did in my woodwind group. Mike, Arthur and Melanie made sure to chat with me, but my first line supervisors (my platoon sergeant and first sergeant) didn’t seem like they cared one bit. I was not even told that I was switching shop jobs or why it was happening by anyone in a place of authority. It was as if I was getting fired from a job that I was doing very well in before I lost the baby to another shop job for no good reason. I did ask my platoon sergeant why they moved me and I was told that they needed a person in the security shop that could lead for the security inspection and they assumed without asking me that I would be okay with working like crazy to complete everything that needed to be done for that inspection. Also, they assumed that I would love to go through the stress of trying to PCS (permanent change of station-basically moving to my next duty station) and outprocess while preparing for the inspection. By the way, we had no deficiencies on our inspection because if I’m in charge of something, you’d better believe it will be done correctly but it would have been nice to have had a heads up and more compassion from my leadership. But the Army is all about suck it up buttercup.
There were many dark days for me at the beginning of my grieving process. So much blaming of myself. What did I do to cause this? Why did God take my baby? Why couldn’t he have taken me? Did I workout too much? Was my thyroid issues the culprit? Should I have went on that hike? Did I eat something I was not supposed to eat? Was I hydrated? Should I even live, if I couldn’t keep my baby alive? Yes…..very dark and so many other self hating thoughts. But most women (if they are honest) will share that they had some or all of those thoughts when going through a pregnancy loss.
There were many days when I came into work that I just closed the door to my office and balled my eyes out. No one cared except my buddies from my team and my sister in arms, Caroline. She was great. She had gone through two pregnancy losses. Also, right before she left for Korea my other sister in arms (Michelle) was a great friend to talk to as well. Jessica was great too. Even if they never suffered a loss like mine, they knew how to empathize. Jessica’s mom passed within the last couple of years and Michelle had suffered many losses in her lifetime as well. I had a commander that was (to this day) the best commander I have ever had who I texted on a couple different occasions and I gained some perspective from our conversations. I will not use his name because I did not ask him if I could, but I bet this guy was a great non-commissioned officer when he was one. The best non-commissioned officers make the best officers because they care about people.
I also had friends at church that I could talk to. Angela Foster, Gervais Baptist, Ashley Brannon, Melissa Frederick, Tara O’Rourke, Carissa Fischer and Jessica Germain were just some of my sisters in Christ through the military. Some of these gals I spoke with on the phone, some I chatted with through text or messenger. It was appreciated whether they know it or not. And how could I have made it through without a couple of great Chaplains. Thanks CH Fischer, CH McNeal and CH Kuhlman. If I missed anyone, it really wasn’t intentional. It’s too many people for my tiny 42 year old brain to handle.
I even had a gal from my high school class reach out to me. Her name is Shana. Shana and her husband Brian suffered a pregnancy loss as well. During that incredibly dark time where I was having survivor grief and those thoughts about what I must have done to cause my baby to die, she was so kind. She sent me a book called “Heaven is for Real.” There were certainly some dark thoughts directed at our God at times because I just couldn’t understand why he would allow a little baby to die. This book helped me. I have faith that both my angel babies are being held by Jesus up in heaven. Shana also shipped us some kids books on grief as well. It’s as if she knew that I read to my littles every night. Her kindness meant a great deal to me during a very dark time.
When I got here to my new duty station, it was nice to have a good sponsor for a change. For all you non-military folk, a sponsor is someone that helps you with any questions that you may have when you move to a new duty station. Paige is one of the good ones (for sure). Although, she probably doesn’t think so now, she is going to make it far in our field. She has been a great sister in arms and she has been a great friend. We have a lot in common and it’s a shame that she is moving to a new duty station soon.
I mention all these wonderful people along with my close family, and some extended family because it really does take a village to get through something like this. You need to build a support system along with having a good therapist or counselor to help you through the grieving process. I still have my moments and living with clinical depression and PTSD really does make coping harder some days but this is why you need to build coping skills and your village. That is all for this edition of my blog. I hope you learned something and if you didn’t that’s okay too.
Editors: Joe Anders and Dr. Cynthia Maguire (my wonderful therapist while at Fort Drum)
Strong Mama Blog 