We're Pregnant!

Kinda.


Not Really.


Well, we WERE growing a baby, but it died 3 weeks ago. I'm in the very early stages of labor. As much as I actually love the experience of childbirth, I dread miscarriage labor and delivery. It's a different kind of beast. There's something beautiful and empowering about feeling your body and baby work together to bring life to the world. It isn't really pain to me. But the cramps and labor of death is lonely, heartbreaking, and painful.

It was a miraculous conception and one that was unexpected. From the moment I found out and wrapped my head around it, I wanted to start texting people that our 'insurance' (not giving away all our baby stuff before our move) didn't work. That was the first sign to me that we would probably lose this one. And then there was the spotting the weekend after I got sick. That was the second clue. I've only spotted on the babies I've lost. I thought I'd requested a blessing. Twice. But apparently I didn't communicate it clearly enough. Maybe it would have made a difference. Maybe not. We decided to tell the Boys early on so that if we did lose the baby, they wouldn't receive two shocks at once. J was not surprised with the news. A missed the announcement. P....oh P...... I have a story about him...

A friend gave birth to a beautiful little boy right before we moved and a picture of him popped up on Facebook one morning. P saw his little face and said, "I want one of those!" I asked him if he wanted a girl baby or a boy baby. He thought for a moment, then said, "A girl." I verified he wanted a sister, not a brother. I affirmed that maybe we'll get a sister this time. I kept scrolling through FB and an ad with a cute little girl came up. He made me stop, and said "That one! I want that sister!" I laughed and said, we have to wait for baby to get big enough before she comes. Off and on throughout the day he talked about the sister that was going to come. I'd have to tell him we had to wait and let her get big enough to come home. As soon as J walked in the door from school, P excitedly told him, "We're buying a sister!" lol For several days P would talk about the sister. He was disappointed when I explained it would be a baby sister first. He wanted a girl to play with. He really misses his playmates. Then one day he grumpily said, "I don't want a sister anymore." And that was the last he spoke of her.

Everyone's life goes on and the fact that I'm pregnant is not knowledge that affects their world, only mine. I was tired. When you're trying to unpack and settle in a new home, it's hard being tired and not feeling your best. I'd nap in the afternoons and fall asleep at 9:30pm. After my sickness (maybe the flu?), I gradually started feeling better. I changed my diet and cut out sugar and most refined carbs. I noticed I had more energy and wasn't dying so early in the evening. It made me wonder. 

From the beginning I prayed for strength. Strength to raise another child or strength to endure the miscarriage. My first dr's appointment was no secret, and the date loomed at me. But it really meant nothing to everyone else. One of the worst feelings is laying down on the exam table waiting to hear or see a heartbeat. The days that stretched before the appointment, I tried not to worry. The anxiety was overwhelming before P's first appointment and it made for a very difficult family life. I didn't want that again. But a few day before the appointment, the anxiety crept in. By Friday morning, I was quite emotional. I asked for another blessing. This time more explicitly. Timing was bad. It wasn't a priority, so I texted some close friends and they were my prayer warriors. I received some strength from JG especially as she passed along this msg from her prayer (Bc I didn't give her specifics, only that I had a dr's appt I was anxious about, she was getting freaked out by all the possibilities) "He just told me to get ahold of myself. He said you know I'm a good daddy and love her. I've got this!" Immediately lyrics from the song "Good Father" came to mind... "he's a good, good father" and something about him knowing me. Over and over they played as I dropped P off and drove to my appt.



This office does an ultrasound first and then a checkup. Wise. The technician couldn't get a good view from the belly, so as expected, we had to do a transvaginal ultrasound. I could see the sac and the form, but I couldn't tell if there was a heartbeat or not. She took all the pictures she needed, cleaned me up and then said, "You are measuring 6 w and 3 days. I definitely see the fetal pole, but no heartbeat." Immediately another set of lyrics from "Good Father" came flooding in..."He's perfect in all of His ways." She said something about maybe the dates are off, and went to show the pictures to the midwife while I got dressed. I knew what it meant. I'm glad I had some time to cry. The midwife was sweet. Shocked to learn that I go through all the stages of labor and delivery for miscarriages.

She put in a request to check thyroid levels and is concerned that there's a reason behind 3 miscarriages.  I have a follow up appointment later this week to confirm one way or another the status of this miscarriage. I'm curious what the thyroid test will tell us. I've gained well over 30 pounds since June. Most of that within a 2 month time period. One week I gained 5 pounds over a course of 3 days. It was ridiculous. I'd actually dropped 2 pounds since starting my new eating habits, but maybe it was just the beginning of the miscarriage that did it.

I took some time to process and cry before leaving to get P. I mostly held myself together. P did amazing for being with this family for the first time. He was in a good mood and wasn't ready to go to the car yet. They lived in an apartment complex on the second floor, so we climbed up and down stairs for a bit playing. We'd gotten to the top floor when he turned to me and asked, "How's your day going?" It's ok. "How was the dr appt? Good or bad?" Oh you sweet, sweet boy. Thank you for asking. It was bad. "Why was it bad?" Because our baby died. "Why did our baby die?" I don't know honey. It just happens sometimes.

We finally made it to the car and decided we needed - at least I did - some lunch. It was almost 1 at this point. He wanted to go inside and eat, so we did. Pretty soon after we got back in the car to go home dh called to find out what happened at the dr's office, so I let him know. When he got home from work we talked some more about it and what it means for our family. We need to do some more talking and a lot more praying. Yesterday after church I told J. He said, 'Guessed it.' A still doesn't know. P asked again about the dr's appt and we replayed the conversation from the other day, except I asked him why it was bad. He thought for a moment, and then said "Our baby died." That's right, buddy. "Why'd our baby die?" I don't know, honey. Sometimes it just happens. "Why" Baby's heart was broken. "Your heart's broken?" Yes, mommy's sad. Can I have a hug? He wrapped his arms around me and snuggled in. Then I shared this thought with him. Maybe, she wasn't ready to leave Heavenly Father yet. He nodded and hugged me tighter.

All weekend long I've gotten msgs from my 2 dear friends offering prayers and thoughts for me. I'm so grateful for them. On the way home from the dr's I heard a few songs that were about relying on the Savior's strength and bending to His will. Yesterday the Sacrament song had the lyric, "when his heart was stilled and broken"and I kind of lost it. One of the talks was on the enabling power of the Atonement and Grace. This is the strength I'm calling on to help me through. I was thinking about the quote that says something like, Courage is not the absence of fear but the power to follow through anyway. I decided to look it up to get it right. The true quote didn't quite fit what I wanted to say, so I looked up courage in general and a couple of scriptures popped up. One was Joshua 1:9

Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.

The other was Isaiah 41:10.

Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. 

THIS is what I was looking for. I just didn't know it. I realized I was looking at the wrong source for courage. You know, as hard and painful as my miscarriage experiences have been, they've also been holy ones. In those moments of agony, the veil has been thin and I've been wrapped in a peace and comfort too. Though it is lonely, I've not been alone. It is a sacred space.

My contractions are getting stronger. It is time for the day to begin. All of my other miscarriages have happened in the wee hours of the night. This one may be different.