Tomorrow, on September 11th, a lot of people will remember. We will remember where we were when that first plane hit the tower in New York. We will remember the emotions we felt: shock, disbelief, fear, anger, sadness, uncertainty. We will remember the strong sense of patriotism that this country experienced after those horrific events. We will remember, if applicable, our trip to New York and the view from the top of the World Trade Center. We will remember all of the heroes that emerged on that day eight years ago. And hopefully, we will remember our desperate dependence on God to get our country through that time. It is good to remember. Remembering helps us deal with grief, helps us move on, and hopefully makes us stronger.
Tomorrow, on September 11th, I will remember something besides the attack on our country. I will remember the life that began inside of me 9 months ago. I will remember when I first found out I was pregnant after trying for 2½ years. I will remember the emotions I felt: shock, disbelief, and finally, excitement. I will remember telling our family. I will remember the best reaction EVER from Baron’s mom when she all but screamed our ears off. I will remember telling people that my due date was 9/11, and getting the “oh, wow” response. I will remember discussing baby names with my pregnant friends. I will remember rooming with Judy at the ladies’ retreat & getting comments about being in the “pregnant room”. I will remember the strong aversion to chocolate I had, and how I didn’t care because I just wanted a baby. I will joyfully remember the first heartbeats I heard during my early ultrasound. I will remember every detail about my pregnancy, including the sad parts. I will have to remember the day we found out the baby was no longer living, and those horrific days that followed. I cannot forget those dark feelings I felt – loss, discouragement, anger, frustration, confusion, disbelief, sadness. But during all of that, the more significant emotions were those that were showered over us by friends and family – comfort, encouragement, sympathy, understanding, love. God truly does love us. If he did not, why would he bother placing these overwhelming feelings of hope in the midst of such devastation?
Yes, tomorrow we will remember. But let’s not only remember the devastation, loss, hurt, anger, frustration. Let’s remember the wondrous things that God has done for us during those difficult times. Let’s remember the hope He gives us – hope for redemption, hope for salvation, and hope for an eternal life with Him.
Look to the LORD and his strength; seek his face always. Remember the wonders he has done, his miracles, and the judgments he pronounced. ~1 Chronicles 16:11-12
Showing posts with label miscarriage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label miscarriage. Show all posts
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Thursday, May 28, 2009
stormy emotions
I had a bad day today.
I was late to work. I had several unexpected tasks come up at work that prevented me from accomplishing what I hoped to accomplish. We had a company lunch that was split into two shifts, and I got left behind. When I got home from work, Toby had red dirt all over his paws & was running around the house with his filthy self. But the worst part of the day was when I had some "moments" {I have those sometimes - moments of frustration/sadness/etc} and I realized that my emotions were out of control. At least, I thought they were out of control. I prayed for God to take them over, and he did. Then, when I got home & checked my e-mail today, I read this devotional from Sarah's Laughter and it made me realize that God really can control my emotions if I let him.
“Who then is this, that He commands even the winds and the water, and they obey Him?”
Luke 8:25
Has your faith died since the moment your baby died? Have you found your faith decreasing along with your hormone levels? If this is the hurt of your heart, listen as Jesus says to your storm, “Peace, be still.” He doesn’t rebuke you for your doubt. He rebukes the doubt. The same word and the same Word that calmed the storm for the disciples that night can calm your storm and bring you peace.
You may feel that you have not only lost your baby, but you’ve lost control. You tried everything you could to ensure a safe development for your baby, but something went horribly wrong. You couldn’t control how the embryo divided. You couldn’t control the tiny heartbeat. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t control your blood pressure or your hormone levels. Now, you struggle to control emotions bouncing around your chest like a million ping-pong balls. You just can’t seem to regain control of anything. Your storm is out of control.
Good news, friend. The storm isn’t really out of control. It’s just that it’s not under your control. Look at the flabbergasted reply of Jesus’ shipmates the day He stepped to the edge of the boat and calmed their storm with just a word:
“Who then is this, that He commands even the winds and the water, and they obey Him?”
These guys were no neophytes. They had already witnessed so much of what Jesus could do, but when He slapped the waves down with only a word from the Word, He stopped them dead in their doubting tracks! Who is this Jesus? This Jesus is the Prince of Peace who calms your angry tempest with only His voice. He’s the same Jesus who knows you’ll survive this storm whether you know you will or not. He’s the same Jesus who brings His peace to you. Peace that passes all understanding and simply doesn’t make sense considering the situation you find yourself in is yours for the taking. Never worry that He’ll run out of patience with you. Because of the Lord’s mercies that are new every morning, we are not consumed. (Lamentations 3:22-23 KJV) Are you afraid that even the Prince of Peace is not enough to speak peace to your hurt? Worry no more. His grace is sufficient and His strength is perfected in your weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).
This is the Jesus who calms your storm.
I was late to work. I had several unexpected tasks come up at work that prevented me from accomplishing what I hoped to accomplish. We had a company lunch that was split into two shifts, and I got left behind. When I got home from work, Toby had red dirt all over his paws & was running around the house with his filthy self. But the worst part of the day was when I had some "moments" {I have those sometimes - moments of frustration/sadness/etc} and I realized that my emotions were out of control. At least, I thought they were out of control. I prayed for God to take them over, and he did. Then, when I got home & checked my e-mail today, I read this devotional from Sarah's Laughter and it made me realize that God really can control my emotions if I let him.
Raging Storms
“Who then is this, that He commands even the winds and the water, and they obey Him?”
Luke 8:25
Has your faith died since the moment your baby died? Have you found your faith decreasing along with your hormone levels? If this is the hurt of your heart, listen as Jesus says to your storm, “Peace, be still.” He doesn’t rebuke you for your doubt. He rebukes the doubt. The same word and the same Word that calmed the storm for the disciples that night can calm your storm and bring you peace.
You may feel that you have not only lost your baby, but you’ve lost control. You tried everything you could to ensure a safe development for your baby, but something went horribly wrong. You couldn’t control how the embryo divided. You couldn’t control the tiny heartbeat. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t control your blood pressure or your hormone levels. Now, you struggle to control emotions bouncing around your chest like a million ping-pong balls. You just can’t seem to regain control of anything. Your storm is out of control.
Good news, friend. The storm isn’t really out of control. It’s just that it’s not under your control. Look at the flabbergasted reply of Jesus’ shipmates the day He stepped to the edge of the boat and calmed their storm with just a word:
“Who then is this, that He commands even the winds and the water, and they obey Him?”
These guys were no neophytes. They had already witnessed so much of what Jesus could do, but when He slapped the waves down with only a word from the Word, He stopped them dead in their doubting tracks! Who is this Jesus? This Jesus is the Prince of Peace who calms your angry tempest with only His voice. He’s the same Jesus who knows you’ll survive this storm whether you know you will or not. He’s the same Jesus who brings His peace to you. Peace that passes all understanding and simply doesn’t make sense considering the situation you find yourself in is yours for the taking. Never worry that He’ll run out of patience with you. Because of the Lord’s mercies that are new every morning, we are not consumed. (Lamentations 3:22-23 KJV) Are you afraid that even the Prince of Peace is not enough to speak peace to your hurt? Worry no more. His grace is sufficient and His strength is perfected in your weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).
This is the Jesus who calms your storm.
Friday, April 17, 2009
writer's block
I am having a hard time coming up with anything to blog about that isn't related to my miscarriage. Hopefully soon I will have some more enjoyable posts for my readers. Please hang in there with me for awhile!
I wanted to share this e-mail I got today. I found this website, Sarah's Laughter, which provides support for infertility and loss. I registered to receive their "Daily Double Portion" e-mails. So far, just about every one I have received has spoken to me in a different way. Anyway, I felt the urge to share this one from today...
If you are one who has lived through the horror of the death of your baby, Sarah’s Laughter offers you our most heartfelt condolences. Maybe no one ever told you they were sorry you lost your baby. We are so very sorry. We are sorry that you lost your baby, and we are so sorry that others have not recognized your hurt. If there is anything this ministry can do for you, please do not hesitate to let us know.
Even in the face of such a devastating loss, there is great encouragement and understanding for you found within the pages of Scripture. God knew you would search for answers to the questions that bounce around your heart like a million ping-pong balls. Perhaps the most vivid example we have of someone surviving the death of a precious baby is found in the life of David.
If someone asked you who David was, what would you say? Would you call him a giant-killer? A king? A scoundrel? A man who danced before the Lord with all might? A man after God’s own heart?
A grieving parent?
In 2 Samuel we see a portrait of grief hanging on the walls of David’s home. He is facing the imminent death of his baby, and is stricken with pain only a bereaved parent can know. The prophet Nathan has told him that God has revealed the baby will die, and although David does all he knows to do to change God’s mind, in only seven short days, David’s baby slips into eternity.
What about your baby. Did you know death was inevitable, or did it sneak up on like an unwanted companion? No doubt, you begged and pleaded with God for the life of your child. How your story parallels David’s!
David’s baby has died. There is no going back. There are no more doctors to call, no more treatments to try. The baby’s life on earth is completed. What does David do? What did you do?
Somehow through his grief, David found the road to recovery, and began to walk in it right away.
How was David able to enter into the worship of the Lord? This is the same Lord who could have changed His mind and saved David’s baby, but chose not to. How could David worship?
I believe the answer lies in 2 Samuel 12:23. It’s a profound truth found in only five words:
I will go to him...
God surely pulled back the curtains of time for David and revealed to him just a smidgen of His plan for humanity. We know that Jesus went to prepare a place for us so that we can be with Him for eternity. David lived centuries before the cross and the empty tomb. He had no way to know that God had planned eternal reunions with lost loves.
Somehow, David knew he would see his baby again. It wasn’t a cliche to David. He knew-in reality-he would see this baby again. Not another baby that he and his wife would soon conceive. Not a child born to him at another point in his life. He knew that he would see this baby again. The unuttered promise of a glorious reunion with his baby made this painful, but temporary, period of separation bearable.
When your heart aches for your baby, remind yourself that as a child of God, you will see your baby again. Not for a moment. Not until death steals him/her away again. Thank God that death will never enter Heaven’s gates! You can be reunited with your baby and with your God for eternity! All that is required is the salvation freely offered you at the foot of Calvary.
When you arrive in heaven, perhaps you’ll sit down for a while with David. Maybe you’ll share how your hearts broke. He’ll tell you what it was like to see his child again. You can tell him what it was like to see yours. Together, with the children you’ve both loved and lost, you can join with David, the master musician, and and pen a new song. You’ll add a verse. Your child can dance as you all sing the praises of our Heavenly Father for all eternity.
What a beautiful song.
(c) 2008 Sarah’s Laughter-Christian Support for Infertility & Child Loss
I wanted to share this e-mail I got today. I found this website, Sarah's Laughter, which provides support for infertility and loss. I registered to receive their "Daily Double Portion" e-mails. So far, just about every one I have received has spoken to me in a different way. Anyway, I felt the urge to share this one from today...
A Glorious Reunion
2 Samuel 12:23
I will go to him...
2 Samuel 12:23
I will go to him...
If you are one who has lived through the horror of the death of your baby, Sarah’s Laughter offers you our most heartfelt condolences. Maybe no one ever told you they were sorry you lost your baby. We are so very sorry. We are sorry that you lost your baby, and we are so sorry that others have not recognized your hurt. If there is anything this ministry can do for you, please do not hesitate to let us know.
Even in the face of such a devastating loss, there is great encouragement and understanding for you found within the pages of Scripture. God knew you would search for answers to the questions that bounce around your heart like a million ping-pong balls. Perhaps the most vivid example we have of someone surviving the death of a precious baby is found in the life of David.
If someone asked you who David was, what would you say? Would you call him a giant-killer? A king? A scoundrel? A man who danced before the Lord with all might? A man after God’s own heart?
A grieving parent?
In 2 Samuel we see a portrait of grief hanging on the walls of David’s home. He is facing the imminent death of his baby, and is stricken with pain only a bereaved parent can know. The prophet Nathan has told him that God has revealed the baby will die, and although David does all he knows to do to change God’s mind, in only seven short days, David’s baby slips into eternity.
What about your baby. Did you know death was inevitable, or did it sneak up on like an unwanted companion? No doubt, you begged and pleaded with God for the life of your child. How your story parallels David’s!
David’s baby has died. There is no going back. There are no more doctors to call, no more treatments to try. The baby’s life on earth is completed. What does David do? What did you do?
Somehow through his grief, David found the road to recovery, and began to walk in it right away.
Scripture tells us that when David was alerted of the passing of his baby, he arose from the ground where he laid, wept and prayed, he washed himself and changed his clothes. Then he did the most amazing--and perhaps the hardest thing. David worshiped.
How was David able to enter into the worship of the Lord? This is the same Lord who could have changed His mind and saved David’s baby, but chose not to. How could David worship?
I believe the answer lies in 2 Samuel 12:23. It’s a profound truth found in only five words:
I will go to him...
God surely pulled back the curtains of time for David and revealed to him just a smidgen of His plan for humanity. We know that Jesus went to prepare a place for us so that we can be with Him for eternity. David lived centuries before the cross and the empty tomb. He had no way to know that God had planned eternal reunions with lost loves.
Somehow, David knew he would see his baby again. It wasn’t a cliche to David. He knew-in reality-he would see this baby again. Not another baby that he and his wife would soon conceive. Not a child born to him at another point in his life. He knew that he would see this baby again. The unuttered promise of a glorious reunion with his baby made this painful, but temporary, period of separation bearable.
When your heart aches for your baby, remind yourself that as a child of God, you will see your baby again. Not for a moment. Not until death steals him/her away again. Thank God that death will never enter Heaven’s gates! You can be reunited with your baby and with your God for eternity! All that is required is the salvation freely offered you at the foot of Calvary.
When you arrive in heaven, perhaps you’ll sit down for a while with David. Maybe you’ll share how your hearts broke. He’ll tell you what it was like to see his child again. You can tell him what it was like to see yours. Together, with the children you’ve both loved and lost, you can join with David, the master musician, and and pen a new song. You’ll add a verse. Your child can dance as you all sing the praises of our Heavenly Father for all eternity.
What a beautiful song.
(c) 2008 Sarah’s Laughter-Christian Support for Infertility & Child Loss
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
struggling
I feel like my blog is bipolar because I go back & forth so much between serious posts & lighthearted posts. :-) But that might give you a little indication of how my emotions are right now, so maybe it's a good thing.
I want to write some more about my miscarriage. For several reasons: 1) writing about it helps me sort through my emotions & serves as good therapy, 2) I want other people who experience a miscarriage to know that they are not alone, and 3) it serves as a journal for me to look back on in the future. So, before I really begin this post, please know that it's gonna be a serious one, and it may even seem a little Debbie Downer at times. I know this isn't the most fun post to read, so it's ok if you decide to skip this one. But I hope you will continue, just to get an idea of what's going on in my head & in my heart {as scary as it may be to know what's in my head}.
If you have experienced a miscarriage, stillbirth, or loss of an infant, you may know a little about what Baron & I have been going through during the past 2 weeks. I have felt the most sadness that I have ever felt in my life. Disappointment, confusion, emptiness...and just overall sadness. I was pregnant, and now I am not.
I miss being pregnant. I miss our baby inside of me, growing. I miss worrying about how much caffeine I'd consumed. I miss the weird taste changes. I miss talking with my friends who are currently pregnant about what I could have expected over the next few weeks & months. I miss being indecisive about baby names. I miss being aggravated by the ever-frequent "how are you feeling?" from every person I know. I miss seeing my mom glow every time she told someone I was pregnant. I miss daydreaming about my first child having so many friends whose mommies are my friends. I miss my dad referring to our baby as "Little Zippy". I sorely miss being pregnant.
Don't misunderstand; I am not completely downtrodden all the time. I am fully capable of laughing & smiling & going about my "normal" day. But there are times when it gets hard. Shopping for a baby gift for a friend. Attending baby showers (which I haven't brought myself to do just yet). Getting an e-mail from someone who hasn't yet heard about the miscarriage & they ask how the pregnancy is going. Or worse, seeing someone in public who doesn't yet know, and fighting back the tears as I explain that I was pregnant but I'm not any more. The toughest times are when I am alone, left with my thoughts. But I have come to the realization that it's ok to think about it. It's ok to be sad. In fact, I need to feel those emotions. Part of the healing process involves getting through the pain; confronting the emotions. It's better for me to feel the emotions than to push them aside in an attempt to "move on". {That's part of the reason I am writing this post.}
There is a book I am reading right now that a friend of mine ordered for me. It's called Grieving the Child I Never Knew by Kathe Wunnenberg. It is an excellent book for comfort after the loss of an unborn or newly born child. The author uses scripture and introspective questions to help the reader walk through the grieving process. This book, coupled with the scripture it references, has been an amazing help for me. One of the passages that stood out to me the most is from Psalm 139 ~ "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb...your eyes saw my unformed body." God created my baby. God knit her together in my womb. God's eyes saw her unformed body. And now, God has her with Him in heaven. How incredible is that? I never saw this baby. I never got to hold her in my arms. I never got to rock her to sleep, or sing her a lullaby, or give her a bath, or nurse her, or take her for a walk, or watch her sleep, or watch her play with her daddy. But she is living a life now with her Father that is better than all the days she would have spent here on earth. And that, friends, is the only thing that gives me comfort right now. Because that is what really matters anyway - time spent with our Father. Little Zippy Goins is spending her days praising God the Father. And so, I will try my hardest to do the same.
"The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised."
{P.S. If you or someone you know has experienced a miscarriage & you want to talk about it, or if you're just curious & have specific questions, feel free to e-mail me: lerra73@charter.net. Obviously I can't cover all the topics I would like in one blog post. I could go on & on about it...but I'm probably already losing readers as it is!}
I want to write some more about my miscarriage. For several reasons: 1) writing about it helps me sort through my emotions & serves as good therapy, 2) I want other people who experience a miscarriage to know that they are not alone, and 3) it serves as a journal for me to look back on in the future. So, before I really begin this post, please know that it's gonna be a serious one, and it may even seem a little Debbie Downer at times. I know this isn't the most fun post to read, so it's ok if you decide to skip this one. But I hope you will continue, just to get an idea of what's going on in my head & in my heart {as scary as it may be to know what's in my head}.
If you have experienced a miscarriage, stillbirth, or loss of an infant, you may know a little about what Baron & I have been going through during the past 2 weeks. I have felt the most sadness that I have ever felt in my life. Disappointment, confusion, emptiness...and just overall sadness. I was pregnant, and now I am not.
I miss being pregnant. I miss our baby inside of me, growing. I miss worrying about how much caffeine I'd consumed. I miss the weird taste changes. I miss talking with my friends who are currently pregnant about what I could have expected over the next few weeks & months. I miss being indecisive about baby names. I miss being aggravated by the ever-frequent "how are you feeling?" from every person I know. I miss seeing my mom glow every time she told someone I was pregnant. I miss daydreaming about my first child having so many friends whose mommies are my friends. I miss my dad referring to our baby as "Little Zippy". I sorely miss being pregnant.
Don't misunderstand; I am not completely downtrodden all the time. I am fully capable of laughing & smiling & going about my "normal" day. But there are times when it gets hard. Shopping for a baby gift for a friend. Attending baby showers (which I haven't brought myself to do just yet). Getting an e-mail from someone who hasn't yet heard about the miscarriage & they ask how the pregnancy is going. Or worse, seeing someone in public who doesn't yet know, and fighting back the tears as I explain that I was pregnant but I'm not any more. The toughest times are when I am alone, left with my thoughts. But I have come to the realization that it's ok to think about it. It's ok to be sad. In fact, I need to feel those emotions. Part of the healing process involves getting through the pain; confronting the emotions. It's better for me to feel the emotions than to push them aside in an attempt to "move on". {That's part of the reason I am writing this post.}
There is a book I am reading right now that a friend of mine ordered for me. It's called Grieving the Child I Never Knew by Kathe Wunnenberg. It is an excellent book for comfort after the loss of an unborn or newly born child. The author uses scripture and introspective questions to help the reader walk through the grieving process. This book, coupled with the scripture it references, has been an amazing help for me. One of the passages that stood out to me the most is from Psalm 139 ~ "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb...your eyes saw my unformed body." God created my baby. God knit her together in my womb. God's eyes saw her unformed body. And now, God has her with Him in heaven. How incredible is that? I never saw this baby. I never got to hold her in my arms. I never got to rock her to sleep, or sing her a lullaby, or give her a bath, or nurse her, or take her for a walk, or watch her sleep, or watch her play with her daddy. But she is living a life now with her Father that is better than all the days she would have spent here on earth. And that, friends, is the only thing that gives me comfort right now. Because that is what really matters anyway - time spent with our Father. Little Zippy Goins is spending her days praising God the Father. And so, I will try my hardest to do the same.
"The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised."
{P.S. If you or someone you know has experienced a miscarriage & you want to talk about it, or if you're just curious & have specific questions, feel free to e-mail me: lerra73@charter.net. Obviously I can't cover all the topics I would like in one blog post. I could go on & on about it...but I'm probably already losing readers as it is!}
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
still learning to trust Him...
They say that after the first trimester of pregnancy, the chances of miscarriage drop drastically. So, when I passed my 13-week mark without any problems, I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
Yesterday I had my monthly doctor visit. Baron went with me because they were going to find the heartbeat with the Doppler for the first time. It was a miracle in itself that we only had to wait 10-15 minutes to go back to the exam room. After weighing me & taking my blood pressure, Nurse Patty left to get the Doppler. When she came back, she squirted the cold gel on my belly and began searching. She searched for a minute or two, and then made a humorous comment about the baby giving us trouble so it must be a girl. After a couple of minutes of trying, she explained to me that sometimes the placenta is in front of the baby and the Doppler can't get the heartbeat. So she wanted to do an ultrasound.
That's when I got nervous. But part of me was excited about getting to see little Zippy on the screen again. We went to the ultrasound room, and the tech started doing her thing. She asked me when I last had an ultrasound, and I told her it was pretty early. She then proceeded to explain to me that the baby had stopped developing after about 7 weeks. I was confused. I looked at the screen. There was little Zippy, motionless and with no heartbeat pounding. He looked the same as he did when I had my vaginal ultrasound. When the tech asked me, "Do you understand what that means?", it hit me. My baby was gone. I didn't know what to think or say. She left me & Baron in the room for a minute before we went back to the exam room to talk to Dr. Dupre. What's going on? This isn't supposed to happen to ME. I've already struggled to get pregnant - why can't I have this baby?
Dr. Dupre is awesome. He is so matter-of-fact, but with the best approach. He explained to me (like 100 times) that this wasn't my fault. There's nothing I could have done to prevent this. Sometimes it just happens. 20% of the time, as a matter of fact. He called it a "missing miscarriage" - meaning, the baby did not survive but my body has not rejected it yet, so we didn't know it happened until we looked for the heartbeat. He then scheduled me for a D&C, which I will have tomorrow. {Side note: please pray for that procedure...oddly enough, my biggest concern is the IV they will put in me for the anesthesia. I'm a wimp. I could easily pass out.}
So, I know this is a depressing post. I needed to post this for two reasons: (1) I want to get the word out as thoroughly as I can so I can start moving on, and (2) it is very therapeutic for me to write about this experience. Please pray for me & Baron {and our families, as they, of course, were very excited and are now saddened as well} over the next few days/weeks. Obviously I've never been through this process so I don't know what to expect. Last night was a very difficult night for both of us, emotionally, and we are better today but we know it's not over. We are trusting God that this is His plan for us...as unfair and wrong as it seems at the moment. I cannot comprehend why this would be God's plan, but since we have chosen to live lives following Him, I know that it is.
Yesterday I had my monthly doctor visit. Baron went with me because they were going to find the heartbeat with the Doppler for the first time. It was a miracle in itself that we only had to wait 10-15 minutes to go back to the exam room. After weighing me & taking my blood pressure, Nurse Patty left to get the Doppler. When she came back, she squirted the cold gel on my belly and began searching. She searched for a minute or two, and then made a humorous comment about the baby giving us trouble so it must be a girl. After a couple of minutes of trying, she explained to me that sometimes the placenta is in front of the baby and the Doppler can't get the heartbeat. So she wanted to do an ultrasound.
That's when I got nervous. But part of me was excited about getting to see little Zippy on the screen again. We went to the ultrasound room, and the tech started doing her thing. She asked me when I last had an ultrasound, and I told her it was pretty early. She then proceeded to explain to me that the baby had stopped developing after about 7 weeks. I was confused. I looked at the screen. There was little Zippy, motionless and with no heartbeat pounding. He looked the same as he did when I had my vaginal ultrasound. When the tech asked me, "Do you understand what that means?", it hit me. My baby was gone. I didn't know what to think or say. She left me & Baron in the room for a minute before we went back to the exam room to talk to Dr. Dupre. What's going on? This isn't supposed to happen to ME. I've already struggled to get pregnant - why can't I have this baby?
Dr. Dupre is awesome. He is so matter-of-fact, but with the best approach. He explained to me (like 100 times) that this wasn't my fault. There's nothing I could have done to prevent this. Sometimes it just happens. 20% of the time, as a matter of fact. He called it a "missing miscarriage" - meaning, the baby did not survive but my body has not rejected it yet, so we didn't know it happened until we looked for the heartbeat. He then scheduled me for a D&C, which I will have tomorrow. {Side note: please pray for that procedure...oddly enough, my biggest concern is the IV they will put in me for the anesthesia. I'm a wimp. I could easily pass out.}
So, I know this is a depressing post. I needed to post this for two reasons: (1) I want to get the word out as thoroughly as I can so I can start moving on, and (2) it is very therapeutic for me to write about this experience. Please pray for me & Baron {and our families, as they, of course, were very excited and are now saddened as well} over the next few days/weeks. Obviously I've never been through this process so I don't know what to expect. Last night was a very difficult night for both of us, emotionally, and we are better today but we know it's not over. We are trusting God that this is His plan for us...as unfair and wrong as it seems at the moment. I cannot comprehend why this would be God's plan, but since we have chosen to live lives following Him, I know that it is.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)