I scheduled a visit with my doctor. With my other two pregnancies I did not go to the doctor until the 10th week. This doctor sees patients at 8 weeks. I set the appointment for the Monday after the Senior Trip week.
I was so sick during the Senior Trip. Morning sickness is a normal problem for me but I felt so badly for the seniors. I was not able to do for them as I normally did on these trips but I tried to not interfere with their trip at all. It was a long week and I had fun as much as I could but I was constantly fighting the morning sickness. I remember thinking, "At least this is the last time I will have to go through it."
May 10 came and John and I saw our little baby for the first time. I was only 7 weeks and 5 days according to the ultrasound which put my due date at December 21, 2011. The baby's heartbeat was 167 and all looked good. A Christmas baby! I used to say that I would prefer not to have a baby so close to Christmas but I had already figured that we would have a December baby and I was excited at the thought of having a new baby just in time for Christmas day! One problem, we did not plan to become pregnant so quickly and it happened before our 30 days so we would have to self pay for the baby. We talked with the lady at the office and found out what to expect as far as costs. John actually seemed calm about it and was resolved that we would do what we needed to do. (Oh, I was also given a prescription for some medicine for my morning sickness which worked perfectly!)
The next day, John had a lunch interview. He was offered a job with the new company and was wanting to make a change anyway so accepted. The Lord provided as well through Maternity coverage beginning on his first day of work, June 6! We were excited for the new job and the benefits that John would be getting. I thanked the Lord for always supplying for our needs.
June 6 came and I had an ultrasound scheduled. I was so excited to see the baby again and the girls would be there to see as well. John, unfortunately, had to go to work because it was his first day with the new job and he could not miss orientation. I became a little nervous when I first saw the baby. There was very little difference between the way the baby looked at the last visit to the way it looked now. I should have been 12 weeks, the end of the first trimester, and the baby should have looked more like a baby. I also did not see the fluttering of the baby's heart, but the nurse kept moving the picture so I thought maybe I was simply missing it. "Surely she would have said something by now if there was a problem," I thought. She took some pictures and then asked me if I was familiar with ultrasounds. I replied that I was and she pointed at the screen and said that there was no heartbeat. My heart sank. I was in shock but yet I felt that I knew it before she said it.
The Saturday before I had told John that if I did not have a belly, I would not even remember I was pregnant because I wasn't feeling pregnant. I was not feeling sick, so long as I took my medicine each day, and I had more energy than I had previously had. I also had a sharp pain the night before the ultrasound and I remember lying in bed and thinking for a brief moment about possibilities but put those negative thoughts aside.
The doctor would need to call me, she was not in the office. The nurse practitioner came in to talk to me. She wanted to know if she should wait until the girls were not with me. They were talking and playing with each other and had no idea what was going on. I told her she could talk in front of them. She did not say a whole lot other than "It is not your fault. These things happen all the time. One in four pregnancies end in miscarriage. It is not your fault. You did nothing wrong." She then asked if I wanted her talk to the girls. I quickly responded that I could handle it. I did not want my girls hearing a secular view of miscarriage. It was a live baby that was now in the arms of Jesus.
As the girls climbed into the van, I began to cry. Both girls wanted to know right away why I was crying. I told them that the baby was with Jesus. "You mean it DIED!" Beth exclaimed. "Yes, baby," I told her. They both began to cry as well. I turned the key and as my car started the CD player began playing the Isaac's CD that I had in for the past few weeks. The song that came on was "It is Well." I cried harder but I knew that this was what I needed.
When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Refrain:
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
The Lord knew that I needed to hear that song even though it tore my heart in two. I drove to my parents' house. I could not reach John on his cell. Dad answered the door. It was hard to tell him that I had lost the baby. I felt defeated and helpless. There was nothing I could do to change the situation. The ultrasound showed that the baby lived 8 weeks and 3 days. Not much longer than my first visit. I was still so confused as to what had happened. I had no answers but had few questions.
Bethany was so sincere when she asked me through her tears, "Mommy, how could the baby be with Jesus if it didn't ask Jesus into it's heart?" I had no idea how to explain to her plainly but I assured her that the baby was with Jesus in Heaven because there was never an opportunity for the baby to have to make that decision. It was too young. It was still innocent. She accepted the information but I could see her mind working as I glanced at her from the rear-view mirror.
Dad prayed with me and we talked. He mentioned that some people prefer to name the baby. I did not feel that need. We didn't even know if it was a boy or girl. I wouldn't know what to name it. Baby J. That was the only name that came to my mind. Dad also told me about a friend of his who had just brought a newborn home who had a lot of problems. The little baby was sent home with no hope from the doctors.
I received an email from John asking if everything was okay. I sent a reply, "No." I then told him that I lost the baby. I hated that I had to tell him that way and that I could not be with him. I hated that he had to finish his work day with that news so early in the morning.
I received the call that the doctor was in the office and that she wanted me to come back to speak to her. I went and while mom waited with the girls, I was able to get more details. I was glad that I had the opportunity to process the news before speaking with her. I had also looked up some info on the internet so I felt a little prepared with what I wanted to know. I also understood more of what she was saying because of my quick research.
Basically, the cause for the miscarriage was chromosomal abnormalities. The cells divided in a manner that the baby would not have survived and even if I had made it further in the pregnancy, the outcome would have likely been the same. Dr. Atlanova assured me that there was nothing I could have done differently that would have changed the outcome and that I had three choices. One was to wait. I could go home and wait for my body to do what God made it to do. Second, I could have some assistance to get the process going. Because I was so many days into my pregnancy, she could not administer the medicine. I would have to go to an abortion clinic. I told her that was never going to happen. No way, no how! I would not step foot in an abortion clinic. She told my third choice was to have a D&C. We scheduled a D&C with the Winter Park Hospital that Thursday. That way, my body would have a little more time to do something if it was going to.
I tried to get answers to personal questions regarding the situation. I found that while people would offer information about having had miscarriages too, no one really answered personal questions that I had. I didn't want to judge anyone, I simply wanted godly council. The Lord brought a sweet friend to my mind. I sent her a message. She called. For me, that was the sweetest conversation during a trying time in my life. Stephanie answered my questions openly and honestly and helped settle my mind and nerves. I praised the Lord for her as she prayed for me. I don't know if she will ever realize how much her conversation meant to me. The Lord provided just what I needed at that moment. He was still on the throne and in charge!
After much talking, mostly on my part, John and I decided that we would go ahead with the D&C on Thursday if nothing happened at home. I felt at ease with the decision and the more I thought about having to go through something at home and possibly alone, the more I anticipated Thursday morning.
Thursday morning we arrived at the hospital early. We checked in and waited. I felt badly for John because I would be under anesthesia while he sat out in the waiting area alone. He would get some food while he waited. A Mountain Dew to be exact. I was called back into the preparation area. I had a kind nurse who skillfully threatened to put pills down my throat if I did not swallow them. They were for infection. I have a hard time swallowing pills and I told her it would never happen. "Couldn't you find something for the IV instead," I argued. On top of having to swallow the pills, I could not use any food and barely any water. She brought a tiny cup to me and said that was all I could have. John laughed at me but I got them both down through sheer will power and didn't need half the water she brought me.
Dr. Atlanova came in and asked if we had any questions. I did need to understand why a yolk sac that provided nutrients to the baby would just "disappear." She again answered my questions and helped me relax. John said his goodbyes and they wheeled me into surgery.
I remember being told that I would begin feeling sleepy and thinking that I did not feel sleepy at all. I remember hearing someone tell me they were going to place my arms into straps and feeling the straps on my arms. Next thing I knew, I was in recovery. As soon as I began to wake up, I began to cry. The nurse rubbed my arm and apologized. She told me she had lost a baby once too and that she knows how hard it is to go through that. She let me cry.
John was finally able to come to where I was and the nurse brought me another pill. I had to take a third one but this time I could eat some food with it. I could have Jell-O. She brought me some and I took the pill with ease. She then informed me I could also have chocolate pudding! I savored each bite. My surgery was scheduled for one and was supposed to last 30 minutes. We did not factor in the recovery time and so John had sat alone for longer than we had thought. He was allowed in the recovery at around 3 p.m. He told me he was able to get his Mountain Dew and also enjoyed some Peanut Butter M&M's while he waited. He had a difficult time while he waited. I hate that he had to sit alone and contemplate everything alone.
I did feel a sense of relief after the procedure. While I was very sad, I was relieved that I would not have to worry about what would happen or what could happen. Baby J had been with the Lord for three weeks already. There was no way to go back and change that but I could move forward and take care of myself. I was pretty dizzy and weak after the surgery but went home to rest.
John had to work again on Friday but Mom came by to check on me. She had the girls for a couple of days so that I could recover. All I wanted to do was rest. I watched some movies and slept. I was still pretty dizzy the day after the procedure but other than that I had no problems. No pain. Nothing.
We were able to go to church on Sunday. I felt good and was looking forward to getting out of the house. It was a nice service and I appreciated my church family letting me know they were praying for me. That was all I needed, prayers.
The girls were back home and my days were back on track. I still needed to let my body recover and I allowed for that time. I also called my Uncle Steve and asked him to make something for me. I wanted a heart necklace with a December birthstone. Something small but something to remind me of my little one.
