Thankful for Peace...

This year I'm especially thankful for something that I had hoped I'd never have to be thankful for.... peace after a miscarriage.

This Friday will be one month since we received the news that no expecting parent wants to hear. "No heartbeat." I have joined the club of "angel mommies" as one of my friends put it.  I never got to hold that sweet baby or even hear its heartbeat, but that baby will be with me forever.  I have faith that someday we will meet our little one in Heaven.

I debated whether or not to share our story, but it was because of one of my other friend's story of miscarriage that I felt an enormous sense of encouragement.  I reached out to her, knowing she would understand the grief and sadness I was feeling, and she did.  Thank you, Sarah, from the bottom of my heart.  Thank you to the others {you know who you are} that also shared your personal experiences with me and offered encouragement.  I love you all.  I realized so quickly that I am not alone in this and that miscarriage is {sadly} an all too common occurrence.

Around mid-June, we {okay, I} decided it was time to stop “not trying”. Andrew knew. I wasn’t being sneaky or anything. Were we 100% sure we were ready to have two kids yet? No, of course not. I had the baby bug for a while, but he wasn’t quite sure yet. It’s funny because it was the other way around with Carson. He was ready and I wasn’t sure. Was I a little nervous that it would be harder the second time around because I was older? Yes. We figured it was as good a time as any to take the plunge and jump into the world of “not, not trying.”  We were careful for two months like Dr. Bost said to be (to know my cycle) and then on Friday, September 14th, we found out we were expecting Baby #2.

We went in for our first "real" appointment with Dr. Bost really early (7:30am) on October 23rd. I was so excited to hear the heartbeat and feel comfortable telling people we were pregnant. Based on the original due date over the phone, I was one day shy of 10 weeks. I was prepared to get the good news so that we could make our official announcement very soon.  Our families already knew, but I was so ready to tell the world.  

The nurse first tried to get the heartbeat with the Doppler but warned us ahead of time not to be alarmed if she couldn't find it with that, as it was still a little early to pick up with the Doppler and that they'd do an ultrasound if she couldn't get it. Well, she couldn't find it. Deep down I felt that something might be wrong. I hadn't really felt that pregnant over the last week, which didn't occur to me until this moment. My boobs didn't feel the same. My tummy, which had been growing quite rapidly, seemed to have stopped. I was comfortably wearing jeans that day that weren't as comfortable the week before. Worst of all, I had a graphic nightmare several days before about miscarrying. I hadn't told anyone about that. It really freaked me out because I often have dreams that actually occur later. They are never an actual event though, just a moment in time where I know I've been there before because I've dreamt it. At the same time though,10 weeks isn't too far from the end of the 1st trimester mark. I hadn't had any bleeding or cramping, so I shouldn't have had any reason to be concerned.  

I tried to listen to her advice, to not be alarmed, but something in me just was uneasy...mother's intuition, I guess. We were called back pretty quickly to go back to the ultrasound room and almost immediately I sensed something was wrong. The tech was silent with no expression. I saw our baby on the screen, but it didn't look very baby-like, which I was expecting at 10 weeks. I even think I said out loud that it still looks like a blob. I never heard anything. Normally, that heartbeat reads loud and clear. I knew something was wrong. That suspicion was confirmed when she asked if they still had a room for me. I remember telling her she was making me nervous, to which she responded, "No heartbeat." My heart just sank. Was this really happening?

I felt numb, but the tears just started flowing. They walked me around the back way (as to not alarm the other people in the waiting area) to an exam room. The tears just kept flowing. I don't even think I'd looked Andrew in the eyes yet, because all I could do was just stare at the floor and cry. All of the dreams you've already created for your family just seemed to vanish in an instant... from joy to grief in an instant. I may have gotten ahead of myself, but I thought it was a little girl because Carson said so. Every time you'd ask him 'boy' or 'girl', he'd answer girl (well, "grill" as he pronounces it) with such conviction... like he knew something we didn't. So naturally, all the cute little girl things started constantly flooding my mind.

Every email that came from What to Expect or The Bump was just so painful to even see sitting in my inbox. I don't think they could have unsubscribed me quick enough. I had pregnancy apps all over my iPad.  That "Big Brother" shirt of Carson's was just sitting there staring at me in the drawer. The New Baby Berenstain Bears book I got for Carson just sitting on the nightstand broke my heart. All the maternity clothes had been washed and hung up because I was definitely needing them early on, way earlier than last time. I have seven detailed 'draft' blog posts that I was going to phase in after we'd made the big announcement from finding out I was pregnant to how we spilled the beans, to updates on how I was feeling, to what Carson's predictions were for our little one (pretty hilarious btw). What do I do with those... just let them sit there forever?  The "goodie bag" from our pre-natal interview is still on the floor by my desk, filled with vitamins, formula coupons, and all kinds of pregnancy information.  All of these things were just constant reminders of what we had lost.

I know that this is my body's way of taking care of something that just wasn't right. God's timing is perfect, and although it's devastating at the time, I know that He knows what He is doing. I also know that statistics show that this is very common (I think my doctor said 1 in 5, or 15-20% end in miscarriage until you hear the heartbeat, at which point the risk level drops dramatically), but of course, statistics don't makes it any easier when it's YOU. We still lost a child, even if that child was only the size of a prune. I still lost hopes and dreams for that child and for our family.  As the title states, I am still thankful.  I am thankful that He has brought me a sense of peace that I didn't think was possible in those first couple of days.  Those first couple days were hard.  Really hard.

Carson at the farm after we told Wanda and Dan the good news... I ordered a big size, so hopefully he might be able to wear it some day again.

We found out that our sweet baby only measured around 7 weeks 2 days when it was supposed to be nearly 10 weeks.  They don't know if it stopped growing nearly 3 weeks earlier or if there had been reverse development (I don't know if that's the right term, but it sounds better than shrinking). The nurse confirmed that there definitely was a baby, it wasn't just an empty sac. It just stopped growing for whatever reason. After much thought, prayer, conversations with others that have been through this, I made the decision to schedule a D&C. I'd had no signs yet of the miscarriage, and the thought of waiting it out was just awful. Everything I'd read was awful. It seemed that unless you were only a few weeks in (maybe 5-6), the physical process seems very painful, but the emotional toll it would take on me is what I thought was the most horrible. If I had to go through this, the D&C seemed like the best option for me personally. Having that fresh start would allow me to start the healing process, both physically and emotionally.  At the same time, it all became much more real that I would not be pregnant when I left that building. 

Thursday the 25th we went in for pre-op paperwork and blood work. Of course, one of the questions in the paperwork was "Are you pregnant?"  Reading that felt like a kick in the stomach.  Even worse, I actually had to ask the nurse if I was supposed to check the box or not.  The surgery was scheduled for Friday afternoon in the Outpatient Pavilion at St. Elizabeth's. I was amazed at how much more at peace I was with the whole situation just after having scheduled the D&C. Andrew called the church office on Thursday and set up a time to meet with Father Dan on Friday morning after Mass. We went to 9:00 Mass, at which point I lost it. I realized that I technically shouldn't take Communion because I was under strict "no food after midnight" instructions. I went up anyways to receive a blessing. When Father Dan (think sweet, old grandpa) placed his comforting hand on my forehead, I just broke out in tears. Forget babies crying in church, I was far worse. Andrew tried his best to comfort me, but I just couldn't stop crying. After the service was over, several of the older ladies that I am friends with came up to me and just were so sweet. Hugging me like crazy and offering their kind words and prayers. A lady I didn't even know came up to me and just said that she didn't know what I was going through, but just wrapped her arms around me right there and prayed with me. What was really surprising, but also so comforting, was that my Prayer Partner from one of the ACTS retreats (who is just a little older than me) was there with her youngest son, also named Carson. I had just told her the Sunday before that we were expecting and when she saw me on Friday, she just knew what I was upset about. Apparently, she'd been through the exact same thing. There aren't too many "young" people at the daily Mass because most are working or are at home with little ones. The fact that she was there that day was no coincidence in my mind.

Father Dan told me to take my time and was ready to talk when we were in the back Sacristy. He prayed with us and anointed my head with oil. I'm really glad we did this because it really did bring me peace. Something else that helped was that we had the nurses contact Spiritual Services at the hospital.  The priest came and said a special blessing over the remains while I was still in recovery.  To me, that small gesture recognized a human life lost and brought some sense of dignity to an unpleasant procedure.  I can honestly say that I am at peace with what has happened, but I do still get sad. That's really the best adjective I can think of. I was never angry. I think about that baby every day and occasionally still shed some tears, but I know that it just wasn't meant to be right now.

I think one of the reasons I have really been able to find peace despite the sadness is simple.  Carson.  He is such a joy {most of the time!} and really has been the distraction I needed.  Also, from a biological perspective I know that we were able to easily conceive one healthy baby, which is certainly encouragement that we will be able to do it again when His time is right for us.  We got pregnant easily with this baby, something just wasn't right.  I know it's cliche, but I'm sure it's a blessing in disguise.  I am guilty of questioning why this would happen, which in turn does nothing but cause a little anxiety.  (i.e.  Will we have some big change in our life we don't know about?  Will something bad happen to Carson (or one of us) that will require more attention and care?).  I try so hard to not think like that (and have been getting much better), but wanting to question why things happen is just human nature.  I think this experience (which is a continuous one) has made me more aware of the precious little gift He has already given me.  I found myself tending to rush to do it all again and got so wrapped up in the idea of another baby and start missing out on the joys that our first child brings every day.  It seems like we notice little things about him more than we used to.  I'm really trying to just "stop and smell the roses", if you will.

The afternoon that we found out, we took Carson to the pumpkin patch.  I needed to enjoy the little life we did have more than I needed to stay home and cry about the one we didn't... I don't think there were many tears left to cry by that point in the day anyway.

As I wrote in my blog post the next day, "Joy on a little one's face is good for the soul. I know it was for me yesterday."

Something else that I am thankful for is that all of this happened when it did. My original appointment wasn't supposed to be until the following week, but I needed to go into Houston for work, so they bumped me up a week. I realize now that by having my appointment moved, God either kept me from being in "pregnancy la-la land" any longer than I needed to be or kept me from miscarrying naturally, which I was absolutely terrified of. Either way, I am thankful that I was able to find out sooner rather than later.

One last thing... I have to say that Carson did something pretty profound, although I'm sure he didn't intend it to be.  He used to kiss my tummy every night and surprisingly hasn't tried to do it since I told him there wasn't a baby inside Mommy's tummy anymore.  One night, my shirt rode up a little while I was laying on his bed reading with him and he leaned down and kissed my tummy, pulled my shirt back down and "close the door, Mommy."  Wow... a 2-year old letting me know it was okay to close one door so that God can open another.  Wow.  He didn't know how much that meant to me...

I've always liked the following quote....

"Sometimes God calms the storm, sometimes He lets the storm rage and calms His child."

In my case, this miscarriage was my "storm" , and He has certainly brought me the peace I desperately prayed for.... and for that, I am eternally thankful.

I hope you all have a blessed Thanksgiving with family or friends.