I wrestled with the idea of mentioning this on my blog or really mentioning it to much of anyone, until one of my best friends told me her cousin blogged about the same topic/experience last week. She shared that blog address with me and it was actually nice to be able to read and relate with her and share in her pain. It was refreshing to hear her take on how silly it was to her to keep a trial so big to herself. It really made sense to me, that to be able to talk about something naturally hard-to-talk-about, in a way that makes it easier, would feel somewhat liberating. I just don't enjoy hiding myself and my trials from others. It's not my nature. I'm an iron clad secret keeper for everyone else but myself. So that said, here's my secret:
Todd and I celebrated our 9 year anniversary on Wednesday (not the secret) and I woke up SO excited for the day. I love him to pieces (also no secret) and was looking forward to that celebration. Aside from getting to spend the whole day in Boise with the love of my life, we also had an appointment to hear our baby's heartbeat at my first prenatal doctor appointment that afternoon. Yes, I was expecting. And anticipating announcing that on here this week. I would have been due October 30th, 9 weeks along.
We had a nice visit with my doctor. She was thrilled with the health changes I'd made since I saw her last. It had been a long time. She measured my uterus- 9 weeks right on schedule. Everything looked great. I asked if we'd get to hear the heart beat and she said they usually do that around 12 weeks but could with an ultrasound if I wanted to. I did want to. I needed to hear that heartbeat this time around. I haven't been sick, I've had a lot more energy than usual for my pregnancies, and besides, who doesn't like to hear that?
She squeezed me into the ultrasound schedule for about an hour later. We had arrived to our Dr. appointment early and my Dr. was late coming from an emergency delivery. So we had already waited a long time. Todd later said that as we sat outside that ultrasound room waiting he thought, "Why are we wasting our date time for this? Everything looked more than great in the appointment, we really don't need this." And as he thought that, the spirit rebuked him and told him I knew that we needed to do this." And with that, he knew why.
We went into our ultrasound appointment and sure enough, no heart beat. My uterus, again, measured 9 weeks, as did the placenta. But the baby measured almost 3 weeks younger with no beating heart. My heart just sank. I've never had a miscarriage- only heard how heart wrenching and painful they are. The ultrasound tech left the room to find my doctor.
Immediately my mind was filled with questions of what I must have done to cause it. Did I lift too much weight? Push it too hard in a workout? I had been picked on by a select few that I'd struggle getting pregnant in the first place because I was leaner- we got pregnant the first month. But maybe there was a problem afterall. I wondered if I had gotten too hot somehow or taken too much of my vitamins. I mean, I really thought I did everything right. My doctor said I was as physically prepared for a healthy pregnancy as she would hope to see with the nutritional and physical things I'd changed for myself. So what did I do wrong?
One of the things that instantly made this so hard for me, was that if I didn't know any better, I would be done having children. It takes such a toll on my deformed hip with each pregnancy that I didn't want to experience that again. After I had Lainey, I had planned to always have one more baby, but was suddenly in so much pain and down on myself, physically, that I told God in a prayer, if there was one more, could they please help me out? I instantly felt as though a little angel stepped up behind me and said, "I can do that." I got the goose bumps and a surge of energy consumed me. I got up, laced up my tennis shoes, got on the treadmill and ran sprints with more determination than I had ever known. 4 months later I was finishing a triathlon. I didn't even know how to swim when I started! Maybe tread water and doggie paddle... I felt I was given some help. A lot of help. I was grateful. But I still hurt all the time.
I trained for more races. I lost more weight. In a year I had slowly but steadily lost 45 pounds. But I still hurt. I would visit the chiropractor all the time- several actually. I did physical therapy. I did P90X. I did personal training with a great trainer. A CrossFit instructor opened up a gym RIGHT NEXT DOOR. I mean, if someone was trying to help me out, they were doing their darndest. We put in a home gym. I got CrossFit certified. I started to research nutritional information pretty heavily and learned ways to take pain-causing inflammation out of my body through eating clean and nutritiously. Information would almost fall at my feet. My friends are all so like-minded this way and I learned a great deal just from them.
When I finally didn't feel pain anymore I knew I'd been helped, by God at least. And I knew I was ready to keep my end of the bargain.
So on Wednesday, I sat in that ultrasound room in shock. Was that it? Was I now done having children only to give some sweet little soul a 9 week horrah, not even to be born? All those years of feeling that anticipation over at this? I felt the strongest answer in my heart that, NO, this wasn't "it". Things weren't over. It wasn't the unseen little helper that in my minds eye I sensed cheering me and pushing me to keep swimming in the reservoir in that first triathlon. But it was still sad. It was still a loss. And I still assumed I was responsible, somehow. Todd held me and I cried.
The ultrasound tech came back with my nurse- the doctor was back at the hospital with a delivery. As I expressed my concerns to the nurse, she cut me off short to say that I hadn't done anything wrong. She said miscarriages are nearly always a chromosome disorder in the embryo. The body's way of ending what would not have full functions for life. She assured me that they were nothing but pleased with my efforts and this was an unfortunate act of nature. It put me at ease, but was still not the news I came to hear. I knew 1 in 4 pregnancies ended in miscarriage, so I wasn't naive enough to think it couldn't happen to me. I just didn't expect it this time at all, given the feelings/impressions I'd had in the last 3 years. But I knew that if any little soul had really been waiting patiently on me over those years, I could now wait patiently for them.
So, I was expecting... and now I'm "unexpecting." It was not the best news to get on your anniversary. We left wondering what we should do with our day. As soon as I got to the parking garage I just broke down and sobbed. Not for any new reason, I'm bad at keeping my secrets but apparently better than I need to be at holding it together in front of people. (I think the ultrasound tech was relieved to see tears in my eyes when she had come back to the room with my nurse.) Suddenly, the things we had planned to do we just didn't feel like anymore. We looked at movie times- there was literally a movie playing called, "October Baby." It actually sounded like it might be good, but it seemed far too twisted a thought to go see a movie by that title on that particular day. Todd suggested we go look at the shops in the mall. I knew a new watch and a pair of shoes wouldn't fix it. But it couldn't hurt either... Well, I bought 2 watches and 3 pairs of shoes... and of course still felt no different. Poorer, maybe :)
Todd and I talked a lot about the things mentioned in this. We just felt the Spirit so strong that this was all part of a bigger plan than we couldn't really understand right now. And it gave us peace to know God was at the helm. Two and a half months of anticipation to add to the 3 years prior. Not much more in the long run.
Still, an awful, painful, sad experience. But I'm okay. I really liked the idea of an October baby. I've never been pregnant in the summer. I also liked the part about Lainey and this baby being 3 and a half years apart. 4 or more years seems so far apart. But it will happen when it is supposed to. And I am confident it will happen.
I so deeply love my sweet husband. He is so tender and compassionate. He knows what to say, what not to. He had flowers sent to the house by the time I got home. Being with him is a natural pain killer. He is my truest friend. 9 years with him have been my greatest blessing.
My other wonderful friends were a great support. They left me sweet messages on Facebook and really lifted my spirits. It's Spring Break this week, which was quickly taking a lame turn for the worst for my kids so a few of my friends invited them over for play dates. I really appreciated that. It let me mope around or have my frequent tear-ups without feeling guilty or like I had to hide it. We've actually had a family function of some kind every night since and that helped take my mind off of things for the most part (birthday dinner, bridal shower, 80th b-day party/reunion- I'll blog about those later.).
So there it is. Forgive me if the topic seems too personal. But it's important to me to be somewhat open about my life on the closest thing to a journal that I keep. And at this point I just don't see any reason to keep it to myself anymore. Many of you can relate. It happens. And we don't wish it on anyone. But we can help one another best by sharing our life's ups and downs and showing compassion for each other when those downs are expressed.
Virginia Reception!
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