Let me start by saying, this is not an easy post. It is probably sad to some. But putting “pen to paper” is somewhat therapeutic for me.
On November 16th, 2014, I looked at the calendar app on my phone and realized, I was supposed to start my period on the 15th. That was only a day late. But after 13 months of trying to get pregnant, I had a feeling. So on November 16th, I stopped at CVS on my way home and got a test. The good kind. The kind that digitally tells you if you are or are not pregnant and tells you how far.
I didn’t mention to Michael I had bought the test. I wanted to surprise him if we were. Honestly, all gut feelings aside, I had really low hopes and still did not expect a positive- its hard to imagine getting one after 13 months of negative tests.
But I got it. On November 17th at 7:16AM, after 9 months of trying, and 4 months of doctor assisted help, I had gotten the long awaited positive.
I was going to wait and tell Michael in some cutesy way worthy of pinterest but I just couldn’t help it. I went back to bed shaking and crying from joy, woke him up immediately to tell him. Assuming I was shaking from cold he told me to get under the covers to which I replied, “Ok, but can I tell you something cool?”. Thats when I told him we were pregnant. Its a grainy photo, but we were so excited!
We carried through the next two days we had off together shopping for christmas and just being excited about the baby!
We invited family over and told them all by praying for the meal and at the end, thanking God for the baby. The reactions were priceless: from shocked looks to questions like “What baby?”
On December 2nd we had our first ultrasound. The baby was too tiny to find but we found the proof of the baby and were able to schedule a follow up appointment to see it again. That was going to be December 12th.
We didn’t make it to December 12th.
On December 4th, I noticed some light bleeding so I called my doctor. She told me to monitor it but it sounded ok because there wasn’t any pain and the bleeding was minimal. Even after this reassurance, I called again just to hear it again. Call it maternal instincts if you want, but I still felt like something was wrong.
And I was right. At 3:24AM on December 5th, I woke up in severe pain and with severe bleeding. I knew something wasn’t right. I woke Michael up and we prayed, but there was nothing we could do but wait until morning when the doctor opened.
We were at the doctors office by 8:21AM on December 5th. That’s 9 minutes before they even open.
My doctor took me back and confirmed my biggest fears. We had lost the baby.
Immediately, I went into a state of sadness and guilt. Trying to think of all the things I had done in the past 48 hours between our ultrasound on December 2nd and the bleeding on the 4th. What did I do to hurt this tiny creation?
I began apologizing to Michael profusely. I lost our baby. The one we had worked and waited for for so long.
I cried, because what else can you do? Although only 6 weeks along, it was a death in our family.
I thought of what I did or could have done and begin to list the things that could have caused this.
I asked the doctor what we can do. Do we have options? Will this happen again? Is it likely we’ll have another LONG wait?
This was the worst day of my life.
But I had to find comfort. Somewhere there had to be something to make losing the tiny little human you were so excited about a little easier. I will admit, although it hurt, the emotional pain was far worse than the physical pain.
That’s when Michael, being the amazing husband he is, told me:
Our baby is in the presence of God now.
That’s it. There is my comfort.
It still pains me to think of the loss and scares me that it may still happen again if and when we do get pregnant again. It’s still a very fresh wound that stings and hurts when I move. It’s a pain I will always carry, knowing I lost our first child. But in this situation, blame helps no one, too much grief creates eternal sadness, and tons of crying just makes your face hurt after a while.
I share this, not for sympathy, but for coping. Its a selfish post for me to express how I feel. It is also shared in hopes that, if someone else miscarries and needs hope, they can read that one line “Our baby is in the presence of God” and find the same comfort I did. In times of such struggle, God is the only way I can imagine ever making it through. His strong hands hold me and lift me up. He wipes my tears and brings me hope that there will be a future bundle of joy, and if not, we will still somehow be parents.
I apologize for such early morning sadness but I appreciate prayer, not only for me and my husband, but for everyone else who suffers such a loss.
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. -Romans 15:13