This post has been a long time coming I think. I was pretty sure I'd write about the last month or so at some point I just wasn't sure when. So, here I am, on a Tuesday and all of a sudden it seems like I can and perhaps the next bit will just pour out of me like healing waters.
Turns out the past 5 months have been a bit of a journey. You see, Marty and I started trying to get pregnant in January. I was sure it would be easy because of how easy it was with Justice. It was. By the end of February, beginning of March I knew I was prego. That was such good news. It worked out perfectly with my time frame. I was hoping for a Fall baby. A fall baby would have been terrific timing-wise and life-wise. We bought Justice "Big Brother" t-shirts and everything. We were waiting to announce it to the world until my first ultrasound but the family knew - that was enough.
Well, I went to my first doctor's visit and the ultrasound showed that I wasn't as far along as what the dates were showing. I should've been 9 weeks but the ultrasound showed that I was probably more like 4 or 5 weeks. There was an egg sack but just a smudge of a baby. So she said not to worry and to come back in two weeks for another looksee. At that point we would get a heartbeat and a due date.
The next two weeks were the longest and hardest of my life. There was something inside me that knew. I knew something wasn't right. Even if I ovulated late, there just wasn't something that would settle. I couldn't get the thought that perhaps there wasn't a baby, that there wouldn't be a heartbeat.
I went back in two weeks and there was a baby and an umbilical cord but no heartbeat. So, my doctor said, come back in a week. She wanted to give my baby every chance there was at survival. On April 7 I started to pray for a heartbeat for my baby even though I still didn't think it would happen. I wanted it to but at the same time I just simply wanted to know if I should shift into grieving or joy - it was such a hard place to exist for a week.
Before the week was up I started to spot. Nothing serious but I knew then what the ultrasound declared later on. The saddest thing to ever see is an ultrasound of an empty womb where a baby should be. Because I was pretty sure of what I would see, I didn't really expect to cry. WRONG!!! I balled. I couldn't control it.
Then, I had three options. Wait and let things happen on their own. Take a couple of pills. Have a D&C. We (I) decided to wait and see. My body had already started to take care of things on its own so, surely this wouldn't take too much longer. I just wanted the constant reminder that there wasn't a baby to stop. That was the worst part. Well, I had part of a miscarraige the following Thursday as Marty was on his way to somewhere up North for a TransMission gig. He offered to stay home but I knew there were plenty of people to take care of me and so when things started to happen, I called my Mother In Law and all was alright. There were some cramps, some bleeding but all in all I thought I got off pretty easily.
Then Saturday night came and there seemed to be another episode of cramping and bleeding. Hmmmm....the doctor didn't say anything about two episodes of this fun.
The next week I thought it was strange that there was still bleeding going on (I'm very sorry if you're uncomfortable reading about such details of my life but this is what happened and I think it's important that people know how hard it is for women who walk this road - every part) so I called the doc and went in for an appointment. Turns out, my body was still not through taking care of things on its own. So, we scheduled a D&C. By the way, I discovered this lovely bit of news on Justice's 2nd birthday.
The next week I went in and had the procedure and came out just fine. There was relief after it was done. I was ready to say, I had a miscarriage instead of not knowing where I was in the process. I felt like at that point maybe I could move on. I had cried and I was over it. Not really but that's what I told myself.
In two days it will have been a month since the D&C. I still have questions. I can't even convince myself somedays that I was actually pregnant. Was there really a baby or was it just a bunch of cells that tricked my body into believing it was pregnant? I'm a Bible believing Christian but I'm not sure where I stand there. Either way, thinking about the fact that at this very moment I should've been about 3 or 4 months pregnant is hard to deal with.
My friend Beth and I went out to lunch last week. We hadn't seen each other in a long time and she brought me a care package. I didn't even think it was for the miscarraige. She's moving and I thought it was a goodbye gift. Then there was some material in it about dealing with the grief of having a miscarraige and I teared up then. It had been a while since I cried.
I want Justice to be a big brother so bad. I want to have a family of small ones who grow up together and remember each other being little and are close enough to play together and go to school together and laugh together. I want them to be close enough to each other in age that if I need to save money by passing down clothes, I can and the clothes will still be in style.
Anyway, I don't know that there's an end to this lengthy monologue. I just felt like it was time to put this part of my life out there in the hopes that it might help in the healing.
There have been so many people who have loved and supported Marty and I through this season of our lives (it's not over). Your generosity to us and your dedication to us is unfathomable and incredible. Thank you to each one of you who sent cards or emails letting us know you were thinking and praying for us. We love you and hope and pray that we can love you that deeply in the future.
