To begin, I would like to say, this is one of the hardest things I've had to write. I don't readily share such personal things and I do not take these kinds of issues lightly. I hope, maybe, it will give hope to someone hurting.
December 25, 2012
John and I were visiting Indiana, (before we moved up from Nashville, TN) to spend Christmas with my family. A few days prior to our visit, I noticed I had become extremely grouchy. I could barely eat anything for breakfast. Even I was puzzled by my own shift in attitude.
We spent Christmas eve and morning with my parents. We visited their church for a traditional Christmas morning service, followed by a lavish (and expensive, I might add) lunch at one of the most fancy restaurants I had ever seen. I, at the time was a vegetarian and was especially indifferent to seafood. For some reason, just the smell made me want to disperse the contents of my stomach all over my sister sitting bedside me. As I reviewed the menu, I noticed that the restaurant had cut their menu to six or seven entrees. All, being of course, SEAFOOD. For some reason this set me off. I was starving and the only thing non-seafoodish on the menu was a tiny blue cheese salad wedge... which was extremely over priced. ($35) I decided to just suck it up and deal with it.
After finishing my tiny meal, I felt a bit more woozy than before. I had a strong urge to take a pregnancy test. I informed my mom and she decided to buy one. Walgreens was the only open store for miles and we were headed to visit a friend's of my parents' home. I was quite anxious to take the test. Somehow I already knew I was... growing something, shall we say. John was 100% convinced I was not and that I was imaging things. As we arrived at my parent's friend's home I quickly rushed to the bathroom. I took the test and not ten seconds later there was a plus sign.
At first I felt scared and happy, then scared again. I was not supposed to be able to get pregnant in the first place. I had an appendectomy done three years prior and my appendix had ruptured, messing up quite a few things. As I attempted to take in the shock of it all, I told John. At first he was in total disbelief and asked if I was joking. I simply showed him the test. He replied with and scared and excited, "oh my..". In my mind, I was trying to decide weather or not to tell my family. Obviously, I couldn't help but tell them. There was much rejoicing. This would be my parents first grandchild. They said it was the best Christmas gift they could have received. On the way home, fear over took my thoughts; thinking of every bad thing that could happen, but as time passed I felt I had a new purpose in life. I was doing something oh, so very important. I felt needed. I was doing something worth while. As the weeks passed, John and I became increasingly more excited and happy and less afraid. We picked out names and set up registries for the baby.
We found the best OBGYN. His name was Dr. Brett Branson. He always had a smile on his face. He was ever so compassionate and very informative; such a kind soul. He took his time to answer all our questions. We felt quite secure in his hands. We also loved the nurses; they were the sweetest things.
Before we became pregnant I was convinced I did not want children.
I had a complete heart change when we received our little gift. The moment I found out, I was instantly attached to the tiny soul within my womb. It was the greatest feeling to think that God would entrust such a precious soul to us. I cannot put into words the bond that is between an expecting mother and her unborn child. I suppose only the women that have born children can truly understand what I speak of. Even now, as I think of it I become quite emotional.
February 14, 2013
Around week 13 (just over three months pregnant), I went in for my third ultrasound. Unfortunately, John was a bit late. We were going to be able to hear our sweet baby's heartbeat today. I was barely showing at all, at this point. A nurse escorted me into the ultrasound room. She took some routine measurements of the baby. She did not say a word. The only thing I heard was the light music playing in the background. She finished writing her notes and politely excused herself.
As I laid on the bed there by myself, I couldn't have even imagined the news I was about t receive.
The nurse returned with two others. The older nurse very plainly looked me in the eyes and said, "Your baby has no heartbeat. You are having a miscarriage.". At first I did not really register what she had said. I nodded in agreement. As they searched my face for some sort of reaction, it donned on me what she actually said. Out of nowhere, tears filled my eyes. They handed me a box of tissues and excused themselves. I sat there for a few minutes and just let the tears fall. I am not one to cry very often. I tried to contain myself as I heard a slight knock at the door. The nurses escorted me to a room to meet with Dr. Branson. About that time, John joined us. Dr. Branson said a few comforting words. After letting me take it all in, he got down to what our next step was to be. He explained I had the option to either pass the child naturally or have a D&C (Dilation and Curettage; where they go in and basically vacuum out the remains of a miscarriage). I had not experienced hardly any bleeding, just some spotting and he explained that if I chose to pass naturally, I may end up seeing a mangled form of what would have been a baby.
After the initial shock, I became a bit bitter about the situation. Also, taking into account that I am a germaphobe and could not stand the thought of something rotting inside my body, I rashly decided to proceed with a D&C. I asked Dr. Branson the soonest he could perform such a surgery. He replied, "In about three hours." I agreed and added that "I just want to hurry up and get it out of there." He informed the nurses and urged that I go home and lay down until the scheduled time.
With eyes to the ground, John and I made our way to the parking lot. In the office, I noticed John shed a few tears. As we approached my car he turned to me just held me for a while. I tried my hardest not to start crying again. I did not want him to worry too much about me. He had to go back to work until the surgery, anyway. We exchanged 'I love yous' before we got into our separate cars. As soon as he was out of sight, I could no longer contain myself and busted into a big pile of sniffles and tears. I sat in the front seat of my car for about 20 minutes and eventually gained composure enough to drive home.
I spent the next two hours just trying to figure out where I had gone wrong or what I had done to have to deserve this. I honestly thought I was impervious to losing a child. I did not think God would let me endure such a thing.
I entered the hospital knowing I would leave childless. It caused a certain hesitation to come over me. I settled into my hospital bed and John entered the room. I felt much more at ease to have him by my side. Branson joined us and explained the exact process. I was supposed to have an I.V stuck into my arm (I thought) and was very nervous. I am NOT good with needles. To my surprise, they attempted to stick the needle into the top of my hand, which was extremely painful!!! After several attempts to locate my vein with the needle, the nurse decided to go for the top of my wrist. But first... some "numbing agent"! The injection of the numbing agent was actually way more painful that the attempt to stick into the top of my hand. Luckily, this time the needle was successful, though. I was already crying because of the anticipated events, the pain just added to it.
Eventually, I was on my way to sedation. The last thing I remember was being pushed down a hallway, watching the lights over head pass me by, ever slowly.
After the surgery, I woke up to John sitting to my left, holding my hand. I cannot even begin to explain what just having him there meant to me. After spending a few more hours at the hospital we made our way home late that evening.
The following weeks were full of all kinds of pain - physical, emotional, and mental. Dr. Branson prescribed ibuprofen for the pain that would follow the surgery. As of that point in my life, I can without a doubt say that it the worst pain I had ever felt!!! I would never wish such pain upon anyone.
This was the MOST challenging and trying time for me, mentally speaking. I had lost my sense of purpose and became increasingly depressed. I tried to mainly sleep the days away; avoiding not only the physical pain but emotional, as well. I knew the only way I could back into my routine was to draw close to my savior. I started to seek refuge and comfort in His word; something no one else could give me. Shortly after most of the physical pain had passed, a close couple friend of ours asked me to host their baby shower. I was so torn. I loved them and wanted to help them in anyway I could, but felt a bit of bitterness in my heart, still. Nonetheless, I agreed to do so.
We ended up moving to Indianapolis a month later and I was unable to fulfill my duties as baby shower coordinator. Maybe, this was for the best. The doc recommended that we wait at least 3-4 cycles before trying to get pregnant again. Although, verbally I expressed my desire to never try again, I had secretly contracted baby-fever. I assume because of the loss and I needed something to do... I am not quite sure.
May 1, 2013
I deiced spur of the moment I wanted to drive up to Indianapolis (a month before we actually moved) to see my parents. About 30 minutes from downtown Indy, my BMW broke down. We were stranded on the side of I-65 N for 4 & 1/2 hours. Thankfully, Sim, (John's older brother), John Moore, and Josh Moore came to our rescue at 4:30 a.m. Unfortunately, we were stranded in Indiana for a whole week, while John tried to fix our car. Throughout the week, I had started feeling a tad queezy in the mornings. I decided to take a pregnancy test just to be sure, (secretly hoping it was positive). I went with my sister-in-law, Erin, to get a few tests. I took a test... and to my surprise (and excitement), IT WAS POSITIVE!
Immediately, I skipped down the stairs saying, "I am! I am! I am!". John curiously asked, "You are what?". "I'm pregnant!!!" We were both pretty surprised about it. John did not seem too happy, though. I asked him why and he simply said he did not want to get his hopes up. I assured him the chance of something happening was slim to none. It's extremely rare for a woman to have two miscarriages in a row.. especially two months apart. I was thoroughly convinced we would be having this baby.
I went into see my favorite doctor, once more. He informed me that everything looked perfect but we would be keeping a close eye on everything. This time I was even more excited and happy about our soon-to-be new addition. Upon finding out the due date was new years day, I decided that it was quite a miracle and became even more sure of the success of this pregnancy. I felt the attachment to my new little tenant even greater than the last. To me, this baby made the previous miscarriage seem to have a purpose, almost. I couldn't have been happier!! After our first visit with Dr. Branson, we left with this picture. We got to hear our sweet baby's heartbeat and I was in tears. I once again felt a had a purpose in life. ♥
May 27, 2013
After moving to Indy, we bought a house from John Moore and planned to live with my parents while we renovated it livable. staying with my family proved to be most challenging, to say the least. A few days prior to moving up to Indy, I started to spot a little, but I was optimistic. I heard from many doctors that spotting during pregnancy was fairly common (25% of women experience it), and it was nothing to worry about. But, after the spotting did not stop, I decided to visit the hospital three days after we moved up.
May 30, 2013
I was informed that there was a subchorionic hemorrhage present. It's basically a pouch of blood between the placenta and the uterine wall. They blamed this for the bleeding. They measured the baby and we once again heard his/her heartbeat. We were so relieved to know our little peanut was okay. The doctors said it was growing at the right rate and looked healthy as can be, at a gestational age of 10 weeks. I was assured there was nothing to worry about.
May 31, 2013
I spent most of the following day laying in bed. The doctor ordered me to relax and take it easy for a few days. It was about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, when I started feeling like I had a bad case of gas (lol). I sat in the bathroom for a while and after about 30 minutes, I left still feeling an urge to push (sorry if TMI). At about 5 p.m it started to get down right painful. By six o'clock I couldn't even move. I called my mom in a borderline panic telling her I had to go to the hospital. There was definitely something seriously wrong. John was working on the house about half an hour away and I could not get a hold of him. Luckily, just before my mum pulled out of the driveway, he pulled up. The drive to the hospital was UNBEARABLE!!! I was having what I thought were cramps, every 20 seconds and they lasted for about 15 seconds each. Those were the longest intervals of 15 seconds in my life! These were no ordinary "cramps". I almost cannot even explain the pain. It was ten million times worse than the after-D&C-cramps I had experienced with the previous pregnancy. It felt like someone was slowly cutting my insides apart and stabbing my gut over and over. I don't do too well with pain either. I get quite angry. By the time I was in a hospital room there was blood everywhere, and allot of it. It took the doctors over an hour and a half to actually get to us. I had been enduring this pain for about three hours. Ten minutes before the doctor came in, a nurse gave me some morphine. Even with medication I could not keep from hunching over in pain. Alas, a sweet young female doctor entered the room. I'm bad with names and wish I could remember her name, but she was very soothing in her mannerisms. I couldn't have asked for a better doctor at that moment. She insisted we do an ultrasound as soon as possible. Since I was not far along enough, they had to do a trans-vaginal ultrasound, which proved to be most difficult. After a few minutes of looking at the monitor and taking notes, she kindly said, "It looks like your having a miscarriage, but we are going to make sure." I simply nodded. John held my hand, as the entire process was very painful. We exchanged optimistic looks.
My mum was seated in the corner, almost in tears.
After a few more minutes of searching, the doctor looked at us and said, "I'm not finding even a trace of the baby. It looks like you've gone into preterm labor and passed it.". Turns out those "cramps" were contractions.
Those words still ring in my ears. Even up until the last moment, I wanted to stay optimistic.
After a little bit longer, I felt minimal cramping and was able to move. She offered her most sincere apologies and kindly excused herself. I simply rolled onto may side, facing away from my mum and John, so they would not see me cry. Tears quietly streamed down my face as I came to terms with that I had in fact lost another precious baby.
It puzzled me that not even 24 hours ago we heard the soft pitter-patter of our baby's precious heartbeat. And how, with in a few hours, the child was passed, leaving us both confused and heartbroken.
After a few minutes the lady returned and offered me a packet of comforting stories and poems. She told us she would be praying for us and we kindly thanked her.
In the following weeks, I simply could not find the strength to get out of bed. This time I was more angry than anything. I had such a burning rage in my heart. I questioned God. I could not understand what I had done. I read that only less than 1% of women have two miscarriages in a row. I suppose someone has to be that one percent. Luckily, (or unluckily) the doctor had prescribed narcotic pain killers to help cope with the pain. I don't know how I would have gotten along without them.
I say unluckily because I found myself not taking them to only suppress physical pain, but emotional pain as well. It numbed me emotionally. I did not want to face the endless grief again. Only this time, it was worse.
A few weeks prior to this, I had set up a great vacation deal for the 3rd of June - the 7th and convinced John and Kelsey Moore and Sim and Erin Langham to join us in Daytona Beach, FL for the four days. - That "vacation" couldn't have come at a worse time, I thought. I did not want to paint on a smile and pretend everything was okay. It wasn't. Nothing was okay.
After arriving back from Florida, I saw that there may have been a benefit in leaving my parent's house so soon after the miscarriage. Some people could not understand why I did not just leave my room and continue with the normal routines of life. It had only been few days since I left the hospital. Even for weeks and months after, I could not shake the funk I was in.
It has been a couple of months, now and I think I have come to terms and am at peace with my losses. Although, it still aches my heart when I think of my babies. I am a mother, too. Most mothers hold their babies in their arms, but I hold them in my heart. I am a mother, too. I look forward to the day I may meet my sweet children in heaven.
I think of it, and write this today because it would have been our first little one's due date. It is quite sad to think of but I suppose God's plans are far better that what we, as simple human beings, can comprehend. The whole escapade has taught me to trust God in good and bad times; easier said than done, for me. I am continually learning and growing. I have accepted that there are somethings in life I will just not have an answer for and I've learned to be okay with it. I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I am writing because I want people to know that no matter how difficult your situation may seem, God will always carry you through (Deuteronomy 31:6). He has certainly done so for me.
They never did find the cause of either miscarriage and I know not if the Lord will ever bless us with children (and quite frankly I'm afraid to try), but I know a few good things have come of this. He has completely changed my heart towards children. He has helped me realize how blessed I am to have such a kindhearted, compassionate man as my life partner. No one can ever be what John has been in my life.
God has truly humbled me and thus I feel myself drawing ever closer to Him.
♥
How very softly you tiptoed into our world
Almost silently
Only a moment you stayed
But what an imprint your footprints
Have left upon our hearts
♥
