My Husband Wasn’t Allowed In as I Miscarried Our Baby & Had to Watch Through a Glass Door

Sarah Gliem

Sarah Gliem
Sarah Gliem

TRIGGER WARNING: This post contains information about stillbirth and infant loss, which may be triggering to some.

It was all good ... until it wasn't.
I’ve used that phrase regarding babies twice now. The first time was when we were meeting with Maternal Fetal Medicine after our baby Chloe died. We knew we wanted to add to our family, but anxiety was a huge deterrent. Our doctor was asking us questions and in the midst of my sobbing, he said finish my sentence: "It was all good until--"

My reply was “it wasn’t." Because it’s true with Chloe. Everything about that pregnancy was good, until it wasn’t.
  • It took us almost 15 months to get pregnant again.

    Sarah Gliem
    Sarah Gliem

    I was 36.4 weeks pregnant with Chloe when her heart stopped.  I was in labor for 8 hours before she was born.  She came into the world silently on August 29, 2018 at 10:01 am.  She was 5 lbs and 15 ounces.  

    After her death, it took fifteen negative pregnancy tests, clomid, injections into my belly, three failed IUI, blood draws, testing, meetings, and then bam … positive. My anxiety was worse than ever. Every time I went to the bathroom I checked for blood, each ultrasound was enough to make me puke. The thought of silence is terrifying. Silence instead of a heartbeat brings the noise of your blood flowing into your ears and that is the only thing you hear.

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  • On Thursday, March 19, it was all good, until it wasn’t. Again.

    As you know, the coronavirus is a HUGE thing right now. I’m a rule follower, so social distancing has been my thing. With this baby I was 7.1 weeks pregnant. I needed to keep this baby safe. I worked from home, watched a lot of TV, and was having a relatively quiet day. I went to the bathroom and my heart dropped. Blood. A lot of blood everywhere. Jared then heard another terrifying phrase. Something's wrong with the baby we need to go.

  • It was like something out of the Twilight Zone going into the ER.

    We were greeted at the entrance by employees standing behind ropes used in crowd control. I answered the typical questions: Have you been out of the country? Are you experiencing a fever, cough, or… well you know the rest. I used hand sanitizer as directed and walked by the white testing tents into an empty ER.

  • We sat in that ER and I just prayed.

    Sarah Gliem
    Sarah Gliem

    I’m not going to lie. I gave God an ultimatum, because in that very moment I didn’t know if our relationship would survive another loss. I have prayed, begged, and [bartered] for another baby. God if you give us another baby, I will…. a lot of different versions of that sentence have come out of my mouth.

    After four hours, we learned that baby had a great heartbeat, my cervix was closed, and 50 percent of women bleed and go on to have a perfectly normal pregnancy. I didn’t leave my bed the entire next day. We left with the instructions that if the bleeding got worse to return to the ER and to follow up with my normal OBGYN in the morning. I followed all directions except the doctor didn’t want to see me. I was supposed to keep my original appointment for March 31. My heart sank. That was over a week away.

  • The darkness got me, because in the depths of my soul I knew this baby was going to meet Chloe before I would again.

    I spoke with God, prayed, begged, and pleaded. If you let us keep this baby, I will … again many different ways had ended that sentence.

  • Saturday and Sunday were a little more normal.

    I already knew that being a mom to a child on Earth and a child in Heaven is hard work. Being a mom when your heart is breaking again in harder. So I bucked up, and changed my mindset. If I could survive Chloe’s death then I can survive anything this world throws at me. And only through God did I survive. He is the only reason. It is not my strength, but His. So I prayed. I prayed for him to envelop me in his strength and grace and to soften my heart. Bad things happen to people every day. A very smart 18-year-old once told me that he doesn’t think God allows bad things to happen to you, but he thinks God watches the way you react to those things and that’s how He decides if you get to go to Heaven. So again I had a choice.

  • The bleeding continued, but now the cramping was almost unbearable.

    By Monday, I couldn’t take it any longer. I knew that things were bad and I had myself prepared for the words -- I’m sorry but there is no heartbeat. I contacted my doctor in hopes that they would see me and they scheduled an appointment for the same day. At least we could have some information as to what was happening inside my body to our little nugget.

  • My heart sank when we walked to the doors. 

    Jared wasn’t permitted even in the waiting room because of COVID-19. As I was checking in I was asking if he could come back with me because we thought we were having a miscarriage. When they said no I began to sob. He watched me through the glass door and was texting me. He told me I don’t have to be the superhero in every situation and that it was okay to not be strong enough for this. I snapped his picture when he wasn’t looking because he one of the reasons why I can be Chloe’s superhero. I wanted to always remember that in times of trouble that no matter what we had each other’s back even if we weren’t together and let’s just be honest. He looked silly sitting in the floor during the coronavirus outbreak. That picture was never meant to change the world, it was meant as a reminder for us.

  • As I laid on the exam table with Jared on speaker phone, we got the news that no parent ever wants to hear … again. 

    There was no longer a heartbeat. To say that I didn’t cry harder at hearing Jared through the phone is an understatement. He had NOBODY to comfort him. Imagine sitting in hallway crying because you found out your dream of becoming a parent to a breathing, warm, growing child was gone again.

  • I was just so angry.

    Angry that people can’t stay home, angry that people aren’t taking this seriously, angry that I didn’t get to hug my husband when we found out that this baby was gone too.

    I got dressed, walked out of the office and hugged my husband. I hugged him for our loss, and my guilt that my body can’t keep our babies safe. I hugged him because life isn’t fair and because he is the love of my life and a wonderful dad. We walked out of the office and went home to hear when I could get my D and C.

  • I knew the bleeding was going to get worse, so I had to go to Target to buy supplies. 

    I was sitting in the car for probably a half hour just sobbing and trying to get myself looking semi presentable before walking in when I read an article about loss during this time. That’s when I wrote about it on Facebook. It was us, and since losing Chloe I am more connected to feeling how others must feel. I cried hysterically thinking that somewhere in this world a mom is delivering their silent baby. Somewhere is this world a Dad can’t be there to say hello and goodbye on the same day. Working dispatch for photography, I know that people may never get their professional pictures from their one and only time they will be together as a family. The more I thought the angrier I became, so I had to do something. 

  • Below is my post:

    Sarah Gliem
    Sarah Gliem

    Today Jared had to sit in the hallway and listen through speaker phone to hear that our Baby, Cameron went to be with Jesus and their big sister Chloe. To say we are devastated doesn’t even begin to describe it.

  • This was us.

    We didn’t get to grieve together, we couldn’t even hug and tell each other it would be okay and we would survive this. Instead I was comforted by our doctor, got dressed, and finally got to see my husband and Cameron’s daddy.

  • I understand the precautions, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

    For the love of God, just stay home. The next time you want to go out because it’s not that serious, just remember that a father couldn’t look one last time at his baby, and a mother had to get the worst news about their child alone.

  • This is us. 

    It’s heartbreaking, and while I’m not sure how we will survive another loss, I do know through God’s Grace we will find a way.

  • I pray you and Chloe look after us always. 

    Being a part of the loss community means that you have these amazing connections. My friend Katy who runs Sweet Grace FaceTimed me, and I had the opportunity to work through some of my challenging thoughts. The number one big one was simply this: I understood and have accepted that my Chloe is a world changer. Through her I have become a better person, grown to love an amazing God, and have developed a compassion for others that I wasn’t always the best at doing. 

    But why this baby? What was this baby’s purpose? One thing that led me to survive the loss of Chloe was understanding that she was meant to do great things from Heaven. I miss her EVERY SINGLE MINUTE of the day, but the pain has softened. My brain races at the idea that now we will light two candles in their memory, and I forget to breath when I think about how we will involve Cameron in our family pictures.

  • This loss is just so different. 

    It’s terrifying that this baby may be forgotten because we only had about four precious weeks to prepare what our life could look like with him or her. It’s not the all consuming grief of knowing that Chloe was cremated and having her ashes in our bedroom. It wasn’t the same feeling as walking into our home and seeing a bedroom prepared that would never be slept in.

    A baby is a baby and a loss is a devastating experience for any family to go though but now I understand both types of grief. Many this baby is still working on making their momma a better human being. Maybe this baby is a world shaker and changer.

  • I pray that when Cameron arrived in Heaven she was greeted by Chloe. 

    Sarah Gliem
    Sarah Gliem

    I pray they both look after us every day until we can all be together again. I pray that our hearts continue to love like He loved us. I pray that through it all we survive with his Grace and Strength.

    We are now the Gliem’s -- family of five. Not anything that we ever envisioned but that doesn’t make it not beautiful.

    Much love

    Sarah -- Mom of Three

    This post was republished with permission and was written by Sarah Gliem. 

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