Shiloh

On May 27th, I woke up early in a hotel room in Richmond and took two pregnancy tests. Positive. After the longest gap between babies since I started having them, I was pregnant. It wasn’t quite shocking, but at the same time, I had started to think I might not have any more children. I have always been very fertile and had no more than nineteen months between pregnancies up until the birth of our tenth. I had already passed my longest age gap by months and Amy was two months from turning three.

Since we were on vacation away from the kids, we were able to have this secret between us and talk about it openly as we enjoyed our trip. I was quite tired and fell asleep on the train and when we had longer drives but thankfully, did not have any morning sickness to speak of while we were away.

When we got back home, we decided that if we could wait until Amy’s birthday on July 20th, we would tell our kids by giving her a big sister shirt as a birthday present. Morning sickness came but was kept manageable by eating all the time and likely helped by supplements I had been on before I got pregnant.

During the next four weeks, we eagerly looked forward to the excitement we knew was coming when we announced the pregnancy. Our oldest kids in particular would be so excited. Jenny had been talking more than normal about how much she wanted someone to have a baby, and if it could be me, even better.

I nearly caved and told the kids on Father’s Day, but decided I still wanted the big surprise later on. That day I had some very minor cramps and the smallest hint of spotting, so the decision definitely felt right.

Two days later, on June 23rd, the spotting increased a bit and I went with the younger kids to the lake. After hours of boating, I got to the bathroom and found that it had progressed to actual bleeding. I cried on my way home, asking this baby to stay with me and praying that God would fix what was wrong. 

I went to the ER alone that evening and after waiting three hours assuming I was miscarrying, I was examined and told that the pregnancy would likely be fine as my cervix was closed. I had a requisition for bloodwork every three days to check my hcg levels and an emergency ultrasound request for the following day. The bleeding stopped.

I went for my ultrasound on the 24th and saw a tiny baby with a heartbeat. The tech didn’t tell me anything else (they aren’t allowed to) and I went to our homeschool association wrap-up party feeling hopeful, with three ultrasound photos in my purse. A few hours later, I had another bleed, but it also stopped quickly.

On the 26th, I went in for bloodwork and was discouraged to find my hcg had dropped 2,000 points (from 17,000 to 15,000). A bit of research suggested that it can happen between 9 and 12 weeks, and that it doesn’t matter as much once you’ve seen a heartbeat. I tried to have faith that this was what happened, and focused on that flickering heart I had seen. I had also called my family doctor and the prenatal clinic and was told that no one could tell me anything about my ultrasound results, but that a pool of doctors look those over and if something significant was found, someone would call me. As the report would have been seen twenty-four hours after the scan was done, I tried to assume that no news was good news.

The following day, I finally saw the ultrasound report with my own eyes. Single embryo. Yolk sac: present. 8 weeks, 4 days. Estimated due date: January 31, 2027. Fetal heart rate: 165 bpm. Closed cervix. And then what I assumed was the explanation for the bleeding: small subchorionic hemmorage (SCH) 16 x 33 mm distal to the gestational sac.

Finding out I had an SCH was reassuring. I knew what it was and had read stories of many women who had them and had healthy pregnancies and babies, even with moderate to heavy bleeding for weeks. During that weekend and into the next week, I had some spotting and it changed in colour off and on but was never heavy or looked like real bleeding.

On Monday, I went for more bloodwork and then for a visit with a good friend. Other than my sister, she was the only one who knew I was pregnant. During our visit I got my bloodwork results online. Hcg at 9,000. My hope faded again.

The following day, I sent a message to a friend asking for prayer. She sent me a video on deliverance, speaking the Word and healing. I made the decision that I was going to believe for the life of this baby and ignore the signs I was seeing. I watched testimonies of women whose hcg dropped and then drastically rose, even one whose baby had no heartbeat for a time and was then resurrected. My faith was bolstered even though I was having a hard time fighting fear and unbelief.

We enjoyed Canada Day and I listened to more of the video and decided it wasn’t going to help my faith to keep going for bloodwork. So I canceled the next three appointments. The next day I woke up and felt something had shifted. I assumed this meant things were resolving.

On the 3rd, I went to my naturopath who is also a nurse practitioner, and got a prescription for progesterone, since I was aware before my pregnancy that it was low. We figured if it could help, it was worth it. Shortly after my first dose, I started bleeding again and losing a few clots. It was alarming, but because I had been praying for the SCH to dissolve, I chose to believe this was evidence of that.

We had a long-awaited wedding to attend on the 4th, so I had a busy morning and tried not to read into the continuing bleeding and light cramping I was having. I laid down for awhile between the ceremony and reception, and ordered pizza for the kids who were staying home.

An hour into the reception, I got in line for food and felt a gush. I immediately knew this was not good, but again, I decided it could be the SCH. After that, I got up over and over and soaked three pads in an hour and a half. In one of these trips to the bathroom, a few women I know were there and one asked if we were done having babies. I said I hoped we weren’t and that my heart still longed for more, even at the stage of life we are in, where grandkids are likely not very far away. They had no idea that in that moment, my fears were growing that we were losing this little baby that we so longed for.

Eventually I started passing large clots, and I realized that it was starting to feel like an emergency. Really, it had been one from half an hour after the bleeding first started, but I was trying to ignore it and enjoy the reception. I was so fortunate that the one friend who knew the situation was sitting right across from me, and that my three oldest kids were behind me at another table and hadn’t picked up on anything.

I told Mike it was time. I went to the bathroom again and then signed the guest book so I wouldn’t miss the opportunity. I had my friend go and tell Mike I needed to leave, and she walked to the door with me while he went for the van. She prayed for me and for our little baby while we waited.

On the way there, I knew I shouldn’t try to walk in. I was losing so much blood, and it got worse every time I stood up. I was also praying for God to preserve my life at this point. I was aware that my ferritin was fairly low a week prior, and it seemed impossible that I wasn’t losing enough blood to be in real trouble.

I was one number behind for triage, so we waited. I was cold and shaking and my heart was racing. Thankfully the wait was only around five minutes and as soon as the triage nurse saw me, she knew this was serious and found me a bed immediately. I was covered in warm blankets, had an IV placed, blood drawn and was told the doctor would come and check on me right away. I was given a wristband for blood transfusion in case it became necessary.

At this point I started losing very large clots, and that continued over the next few hours. The doctor came and had to manually remove clots, and Mike spent most of the time praying while we both hoped there was some chance our baby would still make it.

We had gotten to the hospital before 8 and by 10:30, the doctor came and said that with how much I was bleeding and passing clots, he felt I would need misoprostol to help my body finish flushing out. I asked him if there was any chance there was still a baby with a heartbeat. He said that my hcg was now at 1,900 and my cervix was wide open. It just wasn’t possible. The nurse handed me the pills and I wept and paused, giving the Holy Spirit a moment to stop me, but instead I felt peace and a sad resignation. It was over.

Thankfully I was given some pain relief after this before the cramping got worse, and my bleeding also slowed down finally. I had looked at my bloodwork results at some point and saw that my ferritin was ten points higher than it had been eight days prior. This still makes no sense to me and feels like some kind of miracle. During past pregnancies, even taking high dose iron regularly, my ferritin would only stay level, not increase. And I had not been taking iron or even trying to eat an iron rich diet, since I was still experiencing morning sickness at that point and my stomach wouldn’t tolerate it.

In the time before I was sent home, I also realized that my pregnancy symptoms had not been noticeable for a day or two. This actually gave me more peace that the baby had already passed. In fact, I think it’s possible that it happened at the time I felt something had shifted.

We went home and I passed the gestational sac as soon we we got there, an answer to an unspoken prayer as I had been concerned that it would happen in the hospital and just be whisked away with everything else and treated like medical waste. Maybe that’s not how it would have happened, but I was relieved. We were also so grateful I had not needed a D&C, even though I thought it was quite possible in my situation.

We picked a name for our baby before we went to bed. Shiloh, meaning rest, peace or tranquility, and signaling God’s redemptive plan. I found a post detailing this and the Biblical significance of Shiloh, the place where the tabernacle was built, and where Hannah cried out to God for a child. It just felt so right.

Late that night, we talked and prayed and wept together. I am so grateful that I never felt alone through the whole process and even though it broke my heart even more to see it, Mike’s heartbreak over this loss just showed me how blessed I am to have a husband who values life.

Since the miscarriage, we have been compiling a list of all the things we are grateful for relating to what happened before, during and after. I suspect I’ll be writing that list for awhile. I have more to say, but I will write a second post for all of that.

We are so thankful for our friends and family who supported us in prayer during and after and covet your prayers as we all grieve and heal.