We Move Forward Because We Have To: By Jon-David Gudselak (2016)

We Move Forward Because We Have To

5 life lessons to a miscarriage marriage

“Ok, let’s do it” was what I told my wife one night while out to dinner with some friends when the question came up, once again, about when we would start trying. We had both known and agreed we wanted to have kids and six months into our marriage I was thinking it was a little early but being the pushover I am, I conceded. The cycle of love and joy followed with hatred and despair that would transpire over the next year and a half after that night was something I never knew I would even have to remotely prepare myself for.

I will never forget the way she told me we were pregnant the first time. I had just gotten home from work and walked in to our apartment and sat down on the couch. I began conversing with my wife about our days like we always do. She brought out a box and gave it to me. Puzzled, I opened it to find a Willow Tree doll of a father holding an infant.

I was of course ecstatic, elated, so excited at the thought that we were pregnant. So, we went to our first check up at the OBGYN.  When we got home, she began bleeding and we didn’t think it was normal. A few weeks later we learned that we had lost our baby 8 weeks along. Questions began running through our heads and of course the heartache. What was even more challenging for me was how to act towards my wife who was distraught. I was living up to the male stigma that I was faced with a problem, and I was intent on solving it.

 “We’ll keep trying”

“It’s wasn’t the right time”

“It will work next time”

 Although maybe true, three very horrible things to say to your wife in a situation like this. The male stigma lived up to its downfall. What my wife needed wasn’t a fix to her problem. Point blank is that she needed someone to commiserate with. Miscarriage marriage lesson #1: learn to commiserate with your wife.

The next few months were trial and error, trial and error. We would get pregnant just to miscarry again…and then we weren’t able to get pregnant. It’s like suiting up for the biggest game of your life, breaking past the defense, on a breakaway, ripping the shot, and missing the goal. Except, this loss didn’t brush off the next day. This loss stayed with us month after month to the point where we didn’t allow ourselves to become fully excited or invested each time we learned we were pregnant again. To not be excited that you were pregnant, to not fully commit yourself to the idea that your family was growing; we felt as though we were robbing ourselves of our own happiness. We painted a false reality where if we didn’t fully pretend to be overjoyed, the loss would not hurt so bad.

I turned in to a person who was no longer was the happy-go-lucky, glass is always half full husband who could make anyone laugh. I was dark, upset, depressed, and sitting here not knowing what I could do to make my wife and myself happy. Actually, I knew what we needed, but we had no control over it. One of the only things that kept us going was the communication and open dialogue I shared with my wife. One day I looked at her and I said point blank,

 “This sucks, this hurts.”

That was one of the realest conversations I’ve ever had with the woman I married. No fluff, no easy going comments, no stretching of the truth, just point blank honesty. Miscarriage marriage lesson #2: be honest with each other.

 We experienced a total of 4 miscarriages, 5 babies. The second-to-last miscarriage was our twins. The moment you hear that there are two gestational sacks, talk about being hit by a freight train. In the beginning, we were told week after week that they were perfectly healthy. But once again this train derailed and wreaked havoc on our lives when we got the news that they were not growing at the rate they needed to. The next day we scheduled our DNC and traveled 2 hours away to have the procedure done. The darkness was back again, and we didn’t want to talk to anyone. My wife sat her beside me with bruises on her stomach from the Lovinox shots and a closet full of other medicines she had to take daily. Not to mention we were financially broke, again.

 We began to think of other options and started doing things to help us understand what was going on. “We move forward because we have to” was a new phrase we began saying in our house. We researched the facts of our situation; my wife had PCOS, what does that mean? We had the number of the head doctor of our fertility clinic on speed dial. Miscarriage marriage lesson #3: do your research. It didn’t directly help our situation; I’m not sitting here saying all of our problems were solved because we knew the ins and outs of PCOS. But, it did help to understand what my wife’s body was going through and the large population of women out there going through the same thing. My wife joined blog groups on social media and began her own blog. I’ve never been more proud of her with her true and honest way of explaining to others about our journey. It unintentionally aided her in working out a great deal to herself as well. We’ve spoken to college classes about our journey and it is quite amazing the people we have met. And we’ve learned how to talk about our situation; to ourselves and others going through similar things or people who know people going through the same thing.

 We went to adoption classes and put down money to begin that process, something I never thought I would have to consider. We started going to church again; one of the best things we could have ever done. We began to bring our families to the church we had grown to love. We formed a brand new relationship with God. What we didn’t know is that we formed a brand new part of our relationship as well. We were slowly accepting the fact that God did have a plan for us and we had to bend our thinking to align with His. Miscarriage marriage lesson #4: pray, surround yourself with faith, and pray again.

 We had a break in our series of adoption classes and went on a cross country road trip to Colorado to see some family. A few days later, en route to home, we stopped at a planned hotel stay in Chicago. My wife was pretty sick; stuffy nose, sore throat, chest pains, and a high fever. I thought I was going to have to rush her to the hospital. We made it out of Chicago alive and continued home. She still wasn’t feeling 100% so we went to the local Urgent Care center. They said she had a fungal infection in her throat. Ok? We go home and she drops a bomb on me that she hasn’t gotten her period yet. Familiar feelings start churning and I give her a cautiously optimistic smile. I go downstairs to keep unpacking the car. I walk upstairs to her yelling “Babe!” so instinctively I rush in to find her holding a positive pregnancy test. Familiar feelings start churning again. Here we go again.

I’m just going to come out and say it, 9 months later we welcomes Tobias Alan into our lives on February 25th, 2016. The 9 months between the day we found out we were pregnant until that day in February were far crazier than any roller coaster ride I had ever been on.

I sit here finishing my beer and thinking to myself how lucky we are, but how far we came as a couple and individually. We have a beautiful son, yes, but we also have a growing love for God and one heck of a story that we can look back on as a couple and reflect on. If I were asked of something good, besides my son, that came out of that situation I would easily say the transition of ‘husband and wife’ that occurred in us. This breaks people, this ends relationships with no remorse. Not us. There is a smile that I give my wife that I’m not sure if she fully understands what I mean behind it. She is my best friend, my superhero, and though I make her question if she made the right decision on July 21st 2012, she is one of the strongest people who walk this earth. And for that, my son and I are pretty damn lucky.

Miscarriage marriage lesson #5: This is a long journey, regardless of what happens. Be a team. You’re in this together, so be there for each other.