The past 24 hours have been filled with heartbreaking loss. Walking back into my home with an empty womb is a kind of pain that doesn't compare to any other I've felt. I thought I'd feel stronger than I do, but I feel weak, I feel sad, and I feel helpless. Nonetheless, I feel hopeful and I feel the strength, the love, and the comfort of my God. I have a God that allows brokenness as an opportunity for renewed strength and purpose. My womb provided an opportunity not for the life of my little one but for another work of God to be done in my life. I can either choose anger and bitterness or hope and joy. I have no choice but to choose the latter because God has never let me down in the end. I believe that He loves me. I know that good will come from bad. In my life, it always has and that's how I get through the tough times. I know that there is always a light in the darkness. ALWAYS.
Here's the story:
After finding out last week that I may be miscarrying, I clung to the hope that my tilted uterus, my full bladder, and an "earlier than thought" pregnancy would reveal a different story the next appointment.
I went in yesterday and was told by the nurse tech that my HCG levels and fallen dramatically and that was NOT good. He then stuck my husband and I in a room where we waited for nearly an hour for the ultrasound tech. The wait was hard but who better to be with than my husband who loves me more than anything in the world. A Dr finally came in to prepare us for what we were about to see or "not" see. I sat there very stoically pretending to be tough and preparing myself for the worst while this huge bubble of hope was swelling inside of me because I believed that we were going to see a miracle.
We did not. Once again, we saw nothing. Well, there was something, but they called it "matter" which essentially meant that it was not in fact an anembryonic pregnancy, but a real one where life began and at one point ended. That was like a knife in my heart. The first thoughts are what did I do to my baby? I was blaming myself. In a miscarriage the Dr will tell you that there's no specific reason...but there IS a specific reason. Something specifically happened at one point whether it was faulty dna or something else that caused the life inside of me to stop. I'll never know. Most of us who miscarry never will and that's hard to deal with.
Next came the decision making. I leave for GA tomorrow, so the Dr strongly advised that I have surgery, also known as a D&C. It's so hard to make a decision like that because it feels like you are pulling the plug. They assured me over and over that the plug had already been pulled. They were 100% sure that there was 0% chance. We decided to move forward with the procedure and were sent immediately to a holding room for surgery.
After my husband left to get the girls, I was alone. I was going on only a muffin I had eaten early morning. I was starving, and I was left to myself for 6 hours to think and think and think and grieve and fear and cry. I wanted this baby. I didn't plan it, but after finding out you have created a life with the one you love and will be adding on to a family you adore, you can't help but to be thrilled. You start imagining. What will it look like? Is it a boy or a girl? What will we name it? I have visions of chubby fingers and nursing and that little belly and that perfect baby smell. My belly among many other things grew LARGE. I was sick. I craved french fries. It was all there. It was all becoming a part of who I was and it was all becoming a part of my future. And I was happy.
I couldn't believe it had ended. I couldn't believe I was having a miscarriage.
My husband returned later that evening and I was finally taken off to surgery at 9pm. I was put to sleep. When I woke up, I was hysterical. It was at that moment, I realized it was final. There was a deep chasm of pain inside of me. The sense of loss is unbearable. I just wanted to go bed.
My Dr woke me up this morning to tell me about the surgery. He informed me that once they began the surgery, they were surprised to find how far along I actually was. He told me I had made it about 14 weeks into my pregnancy. The "mass" or the "matter" that they found were the remnants of an "embryo" that had long since passed which is why it was unrecognizable via ultrasound. Because I was so far along, he said there was no real way to know when it passed but probably around 8 weeks. He said he was shocked my body did not reject it sooner but that it continued to feed the pregnancy and that had I waited to miscarry on my own, it would have been a disaster. In hindsight, we made the best decision.
I can't believe how far along I was. I got pregnant in Sept but didn't know until Nov. How could I be so stupid? I think about how difficult and stressful those months were for me because of my health among other things and wish so badly I had known there was a life inside of me that I was supposed to be protecting. It's hard not to blame myself, but I know it wasn't intentional. I did the best I could the moment I found out, but I can't change the inevitable.
To all of the mothers out there who have experienced a miscarriage, I get it. Unfortunately, I understand now. It really is tragic. No matter how far along you are. It was a life that you were nurturing into existence and into your future. It was your baby. The attachment of a mother to her little ones is a bond like no other.
I lost my baby yesterday and it hurts in a gut wrenching way. I will not pretend that it doesn't. When I look at Catie and Lily, I am so grateful that they are here with me. I have many blessings in my life and I am surrounded by so much love that I know I'll see this through.
Thank you again for all of your support and prayers.
