This was written Wednesday, November 28. The emotions are real and fresh.
Today I am pregnant.
The week of Thanksgiving, however, I was not so sure. If you read my Attitude of Gratitude post you can see on that particular day, I was certain that I was not. I had discounted my impending child's life and was mourning a baby I hadn't lost.
I personally know not every story ends like this, but I feel so rocked by this experience that it's a story that needs to be told. Let's start at the beginning, shall we?
- spotting at six weeks.
- bleeding at six weeks.
- bleeding and cramping at six weeks.
- empty gestational sac at six weeks, any hope?
- empty sac and bleeding at six weeks.
- natural miscarriage vs. D&C
- risks of D&C
- fertility after D&C
- recurrent missed miscarriage
I (assumed I) had a miscarriage. My doctor told me the only thing that would prove whether my empty sac was a viable pregnancy or not was time. But I knew. I felt in my heart my baby was gone. I wasn't just preparing for the worst to be surprised by the best. I was sure. So sure that I texted, called, and emailed friends and family to let them know.
That was a hard week. I slept, I cried, and I raged. I was angry. How could this happen? TWICE!? I was already the one in four, no need to drive the point any further. I don't know if I'll say I was to the point of being mad at God, but as the past few sentences show, I did not have my trust, my hope, nor my faith in Him. I pushed Him from my side.
I was on my own. All by myself.
And that is a really scary place to be.
Fast-forward through a fairly miserable Thanksgiving, four more days of googling the inevitable and it was time to go to work. Time to pull up the bootstraps, get through the day, then talk to my doctor about my decision (despite the fact that no options were yet presented.) A D&C to empty my uterus of the life that was gone. I needed it to be over.
As I sat in the waiting room at the OB office, there were bellies full of life everywhere. Parents looked hopefully at ultrasound pictures, women filed in and out of the restroom and the lab, preparing for appointments to check on their healthy babies.
My name was called. I ignored the ultrasound tech's directions. I knew where I was going and I knew what I was going to say. I spouted it out the second she asked what was going on. "I'm pretty sure I had a miscarriage, but the doctor wanted to check again to make sure." The wand began to do its magic and she found the round, black hole within my uterus. She adjusted it this way and that and I settled in for bad news. Then, on the screen, I saw something white.
"This sac's not empty. There's the yolk sac and there's the little baby. You can even see the heart beating. Let's listen."
Y'all. I lost it. She had to tell me to control myself for two reasons. A) I was messing up the ultrasound. B) She was about to start crying herself.
My baby was there. And he was alive. There was no sign of miscarriage, only the sound of his sweet heart beats. We walked out of the ultrasound room in shock and tears. Once we were ushered onto the comfy couch in my OB's office, he smiled at us like we were crazy. He couldn't believe that I had talked myself into losing the pregnancy when he had no reason to believe it.
"From one week to the next, a baby grew larger in the gestational sac. Imagine that for a pregnant woman!" he joked with us.
Talk about a slap in the faith.
(see what I did there?)
I let my fears and my past mix into a truth that had no basis on reality. I dragged my family down with me and for that I am sorry. I am blessed more than I could ever imagine, and I've realized I need to open my heart to that. Open my heart to realize how amazing and wonderful and incredible my God is.
I thank God not only for this addition to the family, but for what He showed me. He asked me to not only follow Him and disciple for Him, but to trust in Him. Unconditionally.
God is still in the miracle business.
I saw its heart beating inside me.