this is motherhood {too}: a journey through PCOS and two miscarriages.

October 15, 2013, Michaela Evanow, 2 Comments

Today, October 15th is Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness Day. It’s observed with remembrance ceremonies, and the lighting of candles, world-wide at 7:00pm (the International Wave of Light) to remember those precious souls, those tiny beating hearts that left the world, and left their mamas and daddies.


My story starts several years after my first child was born. With my first, I got pregnant right away, noticed no problems.

The hard journey started when we conceived our second baby. I remember sitting in so many chairs – waiting in the midwife’s office, in the waiting room. I sat there for a long time because they were unexpectedly backed up – someone had come in upstairs in labor and they were short handed. I chewed on my lips, trying not to crack. I finally heard a merciful receptionist ask if I could be moved to an exam room while I waited, to remove me from the room full of pregnancy and newborns; all a painful reminder that I would never get to hold my baby.

When I received the shot of Rhogam for my negative blood type, the pain in my arm broke the dam of tears and I cried.

I remember sitting in an exam room of an obstetrician, desperate for answers, despair weighing heavily over my whole being, while the doctor flippantly told me that these things happen and they’re not a big deal.

I turned a deaf ear to those who comforted me with the fact that I already had one child, a blessing many do not receive.

We got pregnant again the very next month. I willed that baby to live. I prayed with every fibre of my being. Day and night, I begged God for her life. When I started spotting on Christmas day I fell at the foot of the Cross and prayed all night for a miracle. I serve a God who is big enough to bring life! To give this child life!

But once again in, I was in a waiting room, an exam room, hearing cold words – I wasn’t miscarrying, I was just wrong in my dates, they said. But they didn’t listen to me. They told me that my dates were wrong because I still had some hCG (pregnancy hormone) in my system – they told me I was just too early in the pregnancy and that I was having implantation spotting. The problem was I had gotten a positive pregnancy test almost 2 weeks prior to this, which would have put me at ovulation based on their dates—at point where it is impossible to get a positive pregnancy test. So they didn’t listen to me, to my explanation of the dates, and instead sent me home saying that I was still pregnant. But I knew.

They didn’t care about my story; about my child.

And again, I lost my dear sweet child before I could hold her. This second miscarriage triggered testing, and they discovered I had Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, and put me on medication to help me get pregnant again.

For months I struggled with prayer. What was the purpose of praying? The most important thing I’ve ever asked for – the life of my child – and He didn’t answer! I walked through the valley of despair and yet the Lord was with me.

When I got pregnant again, almost a year later, I refused to dwell on the grief, on the fear.

Instead I praised God for the life inside me – asking for God to complete the work He began in this new child. Each day I went through my day telling myself “TODAY I am pregnant. And I love my child.” I did not focus on tomorrow, just today.

When she was born and I was able to take her onto my chest, my sweet baby girl, I knew the name we had picked for a girl was more perfect than ever before: Eliana, our answered prayer. Hope, of which we never let go. A year after her birth, the Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome cleared up. I removed gluten from my diet, and it was magic, a miracle.

My story did not end there. I had another child just shy of 2 years later. This time my dreams of a perfect birth were shattered by an emergency C-Section, a cold, unfriendly environment in which to meet my beloved child, unable to hold him, to comfort him. Again I was wading through grief, and again, as I walked through the valley of despair, the Lord was with me.

I was reminded of my sleepless night praying for the life of my child. God didn’t answer my prayer that night. But that prayer was answered on this night. The night my son was born. I should have lost him. But I serve a God who gives life.  And suddenly my son’s name was also more perfect than ever before: Zachary, the Lord Remembered.

And so my journey as a mother brings me to this: the names of my children. Our first child taught us to always find Joy. Our second was an answered prayer and reminds us to never lose Hope. Our third reminds us that the Lord will always remember His people.

And so here I am, walking this road, waiting for the day I can meet my babies in heaven while I love on the ones that I was blessed to raise.

PCOS and miscarriagesBy Jennifer, edited by Michaela.

This is from the collective writing project: this is motherhood {too}. Do you have a story you’d like to submit?


  • Reply The Laundry Lady October 15, 2013 at 10:59 AM

    I miscarried totally unexpectedly at 10 weeks. I’m sorry that you were treated so coldly by medical personnel. I was very lucky to have incredibly understanding staff from the midwife who gave me the news that my baby no longer had a heart beat (when we’d heard his little heart just one month before), to the doctor who explained the D&E procedure and the nurses who did my pre-op testings and those in the operating room. I hope you found more comforting medical providers in the future. When my son was born almost one year to the date that I lost my previous baby, it felt like a redemption. I’m glad you have found yours as well.

  • Reply TamaraG October 15, 2013 at 9:23 AM

    Such encouraging words from the heart. Next pregnancy I hope and pray to have a similar mind set, to be thankful for the day, the current moment of the gift of life, to love my child in the moment.

    Can’t wait to hug the little one we lost too some day.

  • Leave a Reply