This day, July 10th of last year, was a day that tested my faith and trust in the Lord more than any other day in my life.
The day I "delivered" a tiny form of passing life that should have been my growing baby.
I was forever changed on that day.
(below was the day I started miscarrying, 4 days before I fully lost the baby)
I've never really shared much detail of this particular miscarriage, but wanted (well, needed maybe) to share more now.
Because I feel that the life that was inside me for 10 short weeks is a life to be recognized.
It has a story and I have a story.
And because I know that sharing my story is something I am called to do.
(I have a long post coming about this tomorrow...about why I blog so openly about miscarriage)
**if you are in fresh grief of miscarriage, or are struggling with fear of one, please take precautions for your own heart in reading my story below. My heart in sharing it is to let others in on my experiences, to being hope and relate-ability... and not ever to cause more hurt or fear.**
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We had seen this baby twice in two different (very early) ultrasounds, and on the second one, we got to hear it's heart beating strong.
A sound I can still hear in my head and remember seeing pound across the screen.
That was at right around 9 1/2 weeks.
I had felt pregnant and was already starting to show a little,
but had very little nausea or other good symptoms.
Because we had miscarried just almost 4 months before this, I was cautious and battled lots of fear.
And yes, while I had some relief of fear after hearing the heartbeat, I knew it could still end.
Because
the one before ended the week after we heard the heartbeat too.
I so badly wanted to believe this one would be different.
But I think deep down, I knew.
And not like the Lord would just take life because I wasn't "prepared" for it...
but looking back now, I see His hand in it.
It's hard to even say that, but I really do.
I was SO fresh off of losing my Dad in January, and a baby in March.
And it's like He knew I needed more time.
I am NOT at all saying He took it away from me to cause more hurt...But He did take it away.
He IS the Author of life and death.
I believe His goodness is displayed in the giving AND taking away of life.
And I know my babies are all serving magnificent purposes in Heaven instead of on Earth.
It just wasn't His plan for them to be with me outside of my belly.
And what this did to my faith...in the end...was draw it closer than ever.
(our little life inside)
BUT on that day, that July 10th,
I questioned and was angry and was sad and confused about His purposes for my life.
It was an awful, awful, unfamiliar place.
It's hard to feel the world swirling around you and feel completely and utterly out of control.
I haven't felt that way much, but on that day...I did.
Because I had started bleeding and gone to the hospital a few days earlier, on the 7th,
we knew what was happening and had scheduled a "confirmation" ultrasound, followed by a D&C for July 11th.
But the morning of the 10th, my cramping started getting bad.
(Thankfully, my mom had come up to help when we knew I was going to have the procedure, so she was already here and could help with the girls.)
I remember sitting on our bed, Parker and my mom both praying and talking and rubbing my back, and then the pain kicked up a few notches.
I could not believe I was feeling labor pains like this at just 10 1/2 weeks.
I had no idea that could even happen. I was totally not prepared for it.
It felt just like when I had started full blown contractions with Abigail and Bethany.
No different, except a lot of fear and sadness.
We called our midwife to let them know, got in the car, and before we got a mile from our house,
I remember telling Parker, "I think I'm gonna pass out", and then things went dark.
The pain had just been too much. But I came to after a minute,
and my precious husband just held my hand and drove fast to hospital,
praying out loud and playing worship music the whole way.
(its a long drive there for us, so it was pretty much hell.)
They were expecting us, and had told us to go straight to the ultrasound place and that an OR would be waiting for me to have an emergency D&C.
I was so scared, more scared that I think I ever have been.
They got me wheeled in to have the ultrasound and got me on the table.
That's when I really started bleeding.
I started kindof panicking and told the tech I needed to get up and go to the toilet which was connected to the little room we were in.
They helped me up, and as soon as I sat down, I felt a huge contraction and then a huge gush.
I just remember Parker standing in front of me, and I was screaming "I can't do this, I can't do this!"
(my two previous miscarriages had never gotten to the point of "passing" the baby.
I had had D&C's for both.
So this was something I had always feared and dreaded more than anything)
I quickly "delivered" through blurry tears, and my precious husband caught it in his hands with some towels he had been given.
I still cannot believe he did that. He was truly in it with me the whole way.
*I have to pause here to say...it is SO important to remember that the husbands deal with trauma in miscarriage too. I feel like they sometimes get forgotten and looked over. But they suffered loss too.*
The nurses scrambled and got the OB on the phone and took amazing care of me.
Got me cleaned up and calmed down.
The rest of the day, and really week, is a blur.
I just know I saw the OB, was given pills for helping clean out any remaining tissue or placenta, and a follow up ultrasound determined I didn't need to have a D&C.
The days that followed were filled with pain pills, sleep, lot of tears, and sweet friends who brought meals or sent flowers. I felt so loved on and cared for, just what I needed.
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And in the weeks to come, we would face more sadness, with the news that the baby we had just lost had been turning into Molar Pregnancy, where it basically starts forming a tumor in the uterus, and has no chance of survival.
The trauma, and the pressing of our faith that came with that news, and the months to come of numerous blood tests and prayers, was a whole different trauma in an of itself.
I will definitely share more about that soon, as I continue to share this story.
Women who suffer Molar Pregnancies are searching for someone else to relate and understand too.
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Miscarriage is such a traumatic thing.
NO MATTER what the experience is like.
(and I'll touch on this more tomorrow)
All three of mine have been completely different.
But all still with such sadness and disbelief and confusion.
I will never forget this little one that was with me for a short bit.
It wil be with me forever in my heart.
And one day...one glorious day...
I will hug this child of mine again.
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Even through the confusion and questioning and sorrow,
God will still prove His love for you.
If you believe His character is one of goodness, then that can become a place of rest.
His love can really bring clarity, answers, or visions of healing in your heart.
He has done it in mine!!
And if it his will....in HIS perfect timing, he can restore that life.
Just like is happening now with the new baby we are expecting.
One year later, I see His hand and I see his restoration of life.
The fact alone that He cares enough to give it to me again gives me HOPE and REST.
And I didnt even realize this til I was writing this post...
I happen to be wearing the same shirt in the picture we just announced our pregnancy with, as I was wearing the day we started miscarrying. That alone brought me to tears...
just another reminder that He gives and He takes away.
He restores life and hope.
He can turn fear into trust.
He contrasts sorrow with gladness.
He brings beauty our of ashes.
Thank you Lord!!
Thank you for letting me share my whole story.
It is so good for me, and I am believing it will be good for others too.
Believing that God will use it, and will touch hearts by letting others know they are not alone in this.
