Sarah Krueger: The silent loss
One in four pregnancies ends in miscarriage. Unfortunately, for me, that number is much higher. In late April, I got the dreaded news for a fourth time: Our baby was gone.
My doctor consoled me, and gave me a packet with information and resources. At the top, it called miscarriage “the silent loss.” Yet the loss is only silent if we choose for it be so. As part of my healing process, and in the hope of helping others, I decided to share the next chapter of my story. I understand that is not always possible nor the best option for everyone.
In 2021, I opened up about my three losses - one ruptured ectopic pregnancy, and two miscarriages - and I am so grateful for the support I continue to receive from viewers who watch and read that story. In December of that year, my sweet baby Brooks entered the world. He continues to be a constant fountain of joy for my husband and me.
Trying for a second child after a history of losses is emotionally difficult. Unlike my initial miscarriages, when I got pregnant this latest time, I had a more keen awareness of what was growing inside me. I felt pregnant so much more quickly. I was constantly nauseous. I was outgrowing my clothes. I had picked out my baby’s nursery items. We had narrowed in on her name (although we didn’t get a gender test, I knew in my mother’s heart it was a girl). I had the token “big brother” shirt for Brooks in my Amazon cart. And I had even planned a family maternity photo shoot. Everything felt right and real. Until it didn’t.
Some light bleeding led me to a check-up ultrasound. After getting this many of them, I can now read the fuzzy black and white abstract images - a skill I almost wish I didn’t have. “I don’t see a heartbeat anymore,” I told the sonographer, bursting into tears. “I don’t either,” she said.
After taking a couple weeks off to reset, I’m feeling good physically and emotionally. I don’t have to look far to be grateful: for my family, and for all the extra snuggles and love from Brooks, who seems to know I needed it. Life has a way of simultaneously throwing trying and triumphant things at you. As I was going through my miscarriage, I was finalizing my Master’s Degree at Duke. I’ll earn my degree on Mother’s Day.
People ask me if I’ll give up on growing my family. I certainly won’t. While the pain of miscarriage is great, for me, the joy of a child is far greater. And I’ll walk this road as many times as it takes to get there.
