It's been almost five months since I miscarried Baby Hope on May 19, 2010. Through many helps, I have found much comfort and peace. Yes, two months ago I did choose to return to a low dose of anti-anxiety / anti-depression medication, which has eased those symptoms significantly. Also a blessing, has been revisiting a counsellor that I knew from years ago. Thank-you, R.M., for making time for me once again.
One of the things that has driven me in the past two months has been the preoccupation of my mind to "do" something in this world...something helpful and selfless. As I am not absolutely on my own - I am a wife and mother - it would be selfish to set off in pursuit of my dreams without consulting my family. Perhaps God will make a way for me to have my family AND to pursue dreams of humanitarian ministry around the world.
I feel very strongly that I still want more children...and so does my DH (dear husband). I also find myself fantasizing running off to some poverty-stricken, exotic corner of the globe, meeting new people, speaking a new language, and having a glimpse of the depravity and injustice that exists in the lives of other...and then assisting somehow...at the same time, changing my own ways of selfishness, wastefulness, and consumerism that is an unquestioned way of life in my country. Blessing others, and opening my heart and mind to be blessed by them. If not soon, I hope I am brave enough, and able, to embark on this journey someday.
DH and I have been going ahead with fertility treatments in the past few months, but so far none have been successful. We have discussed whether or not we'll share any pregnancy news early on, like we did with Hope, should it happen again. I believe that we will tell people if and when it happens.
It is a bit discouraging that so many people have said, don't tell in the first three months...in case of miscarriage. I say that's bogus! Actually, having that said to me has translated in my thoughts as equal to saying, "I wish you didn't tell me of your dead baby, Hope. You should have kept it to yourself...it wasn't really a big deal, after all."
Why is it that miscarriage is so disgraceful or taboo? Oh, how many people have told me of their miscarriages after I've shared my story...yet, did not otherwise talk of them. Many friends and acquaintances have told me that sometimes months (or even years) later, they were confronted at unexpected times with the grief and pain of their miscarriages because they did not discuss them or heal from them originally. Many have told me how isolated they felt in their grief, because it is something that nobody talks about...as though it is a shameful event or inconsequential.
If DH and I tell (early) about our next pregnancy, and then sadly experience this again, people around us will (hopefully) be able to show us some compassion and understanding for our deep loss and sadness. If we don't tell, because society would rather not know, and then experience loss...then we are alone to deal with our secret grief. That's not right. I think that society needs to change this view of early pregnancy and miscarriage from something to be hidden...or something trivial, to something life-altering and grievous that needs to be recognized with empathy and a compassionate response.
I sometimes suppose that the only people who might be opposed to this way of thinking would be pro-abortionists...because if we, who desire children, want to be recognized for our loss of this hope and life, then all the aborted babies out there might need to be recognized as human lives lost as well...and that would be detrimental to their cause and case.
Other than my family support, friends, counselling, and medications, I am finding comfort and healing in reading about others who have suffered much and yet later soared to wonderful heights in their lives. I've read about persecuted Christians of old and of recent times, and have read Hellen Keller's story. I next want to read Dietrich Bonhoeffer's story...I know of him, and some of his story, but I haven't read much yet. It is so inspiring to learn of those who have faced incredible challenges in their lives, and yet succeeded...or even better, did the right thing even when their very lives were faced with suffering and a horrible death. I hope that the Lord can make me into such a person some day.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
A Poem for My Husband
Please know that I did not write this poem. It was shared with me from another couple who had suffered a miscarriage recently.
A Father's Grief
It must be very difficult
To be a man in grief,
Since "men don't cry"
and "men are strong"
No tears can bring relief.
It must be very difficult
To stand up to the test,
And field the calls and visitors
So she can get some rest.
They always ask if she's all right
And what she's going through.
But seldom take his hand and ask,
"My friend, but how are you?"
He hears her crying in the night
And thinks his heart will break.
He dries her tears and comforts her,
But "stays strong" for her sake.
It must be very difficult
To start each day anew.
And try to be so very brave-
He lost his baby too.
Author Unknown
A Father's Grief
It must be very difficult
To be a man in grief,
Since "men don't cry"
and "men are strong"
No tears can bring relief.
It must be very difficult
To stand up to the test,
And field the calls and visitors
So she can get some rest.
They always ask if she's all right
And what she's going through.
But seldom take his hand and ask,
"My friend, but how are you?"
He hears her crying in the night
And thinks his heart will break.
He dries her tears and comforts her,
But "stays strong" for her sake.
It must be very difficult
To start each day anew.
And try to be so very brave-
He lost his baby too.
Author Unknown
Friday, July 16, 2010
If You Really Want To Know
There are a few blogs and videos that express this very difficult and alienating journey of infertility...and miscarriage. I posted a video link below, that you are invited to check out, if you really want to know how I basically feel about it all. For clarification, I did not create the video, it's simply one that I identify with.
To view the video at The Infertility Awareness Project website, just click on the title of this blog entry, or go to:
http://www.tearsandhope.com/emptyarms_video.html
To view the video at The Infertility Awareness Project website, just click on the title of this blog entry, or go to:
http://www.tearsandhope.com/emptyarms_video.html
Everything just "is"
Well, my mom's funeral passed and then my paternal grandmother passed away on July 1, 2010. My family and I went away to Banff, Alberta, Canada for a bit of a break and had a terrific time. We went hiking, on a horseback trail ride, whitewater rafting, cliff-jumping into a mountain river, and we rode a gondola to the summit of Sulpher Mountain. It is good to have some fun distractions...it is good to have something to do.
I would have been 18 weeks pregnant with Hope now...that's about 4.5 months...halfway through a full-term pregnancy. Although it's best to be born at full-term, babies have been known to survive being born before reaching 28 weeks...that would have been only 10 weeks from now. Time is a fickle thing.
When I remain busy with something, I have less time to muse about this disheartening spring. I am hoping and praying that God will be merciful and gracious, and that my husband and I will be blessed with a baby in the near future...but God knows. He already has a plan. I need to trust Him on this.
I would have been 18 weeks pregnant with Hope now...that's about 4.5 months...halfway through a full-term pregnancy. Although it's best to be born at full-term, babies have been known to survive being born before reaching 28 weeks...that would have been only 10 weeks from now. Time is a fickle thing.
When I remain busy with something, I have less time to muse about this disheartening spring. I am hoping and praying that God will be merciful and gracious, and that my husband and I will be blessed with a baby in the near future...but God knows. He already has a plan. I need to trust Him on this.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
My Mom
Today, my mom passed away, at the age of 57. She suffered for many years with Multiple Sclerosis, but now her suffering is over. She is with Jesus.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Taking a Break
Currently, my plan is to take a short break from this blog...and if I do add entries, they may be ambiguous for a little while. It is what it is.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Mildly, Although Not Completely, Off Topic
Spring rains, though dreary at times, have brought out brilliant greens in the landscape near my home. I am so thankful for the life all around me.
Robins picking bugs in the dewy grass each morning. Headlights revealing the glinting eyes of a fox as I pass by after sunset. The silent glide of a hawk over stretches of field, searching for its dinner meal in the late afternoon.
I am in love with all that God created...and today, my heart was deeply grieved at seeing the image of an innocently suffering oil-smeared pelican on the front page of the newspaper. We have been given so much, but look at what we've done to it.
I am so glad that this is not a permanent state of being. Life does not end here, like this. All the world's suffering and destruction - yours, mine, and even creation's - will come to an end. This is my great hope and belief...this is what I look forward to.
Thank-you, Lord, that you have promised that you will make all things new! You say you will fix all wrongs, and make them right. We have been told how this all ends, and it will be very good, indeed.
In light of all these things, I see, know, and believe that my trials and sufferings on this earth are truely temporary. I hope and pray to be able to cling to Jesus through this current sadness, and that I will be able to see things through His eyes, so that I may experience fulness of joy.
Robins picking bugs in the dewy grass each morning. Headlights revealing the glinting eyes of a fox as I pass by after sunset. The silent glide of a hawk over stretches of field, searching for its dinner meal in the late afternoon.
I am in love with all that God created...and today, my heart was deeply grieved at seeing the image of an innocently suffering oil-smeared pelican on the front page of the newspaper. We have been given so much, but look at what we've done to it.
I am so glad that this is not a permanent state of being. Life does not end here, like this. All the world's suffering and destruction - yours, mine, and even creation's - will come to an end. This is my great hope and belief...this is what I look forward to.
18 Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later.
19 For all creation is waiting eagerly for that future day when God will reveal who his children really are.
20 Against its will, all creation was subjected to God’s curse. But with eager hope,
21 the creation looks forward to the day when it will join God’s children in glorious freedom from death and decay.
22 For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.
23 And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children, including the new bodies he has promised us.
Romans 8:18-23
New Living Translation
Thank-you, Lord, that you have promised that you will make all things new! You say you will fix all wrongs, and make them right. We have been told how this all ends, and it will be very good, indeed.
1 I saw a new heaven and a new earth. The first heaven and the first earth had disappeared, and so had the sea.
2 Then I saw New Jerusalem, that holy city, coming down from God in heaven. It was like a bride dressed in her wedding gown and ready to meet her husband.
3 I heard a loud voice shout from the throne:
God's home is now with his people. He will live with them, and they will be his own. Yes, God will make his home among his people.
4 He will wipe all tears from their eyes, and there will be no more death, suffering, crying, or pain. These things of the past are gone forever.
5 Then the one sitting on the throne said:
I am making everything new. Write down what I have said. My words are true and can be trusted.
6 Everything is finished! I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will freely give water from the life-giving fountain to everyone who is thirsty.
7 All who win the victory will be given these blessings. I will be their God, and they will be my people.
Revelation 21:1-7
In light of all these things, I see, know, and believe that my trials and sufferings on this earth are truely temporary. I hope and pray to be able to cling to Jesus through this current sadness, and that I will be able to see things through His eyes, so that I may experience fulness of joy.
7 I will bless the Lord who guides me;
even at night my heart instructs me.
8 I know the Lord is always with me.
I will not be shaken, for he is right beside me.
Psalm 16:7,8
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Bloodwork and LH Tests Timeline
Below is a basic outline of the medical side of things since our previous conception:
April 6, 2010 - Faintly Positive Home Pregnancy Test (and DH's birthday)
April 7, 2010 - Second Faintly Positive Home Pregnancy Test
April 8, 2010 - Positive Blood Test! Hcg (pregnancy hormone) Level is "104". I am considered "4 weeks" pregnant (gestationally)...that is how the medical community does it...it's dated from the LMP (last menstrual period), NOT from the date of conception.
April 28, 2010 - First ultrasound. Embryo is 6 weeks, 6 days old, but measures at 6 weeks 3 days, presumably from late implantation. Heartbeat was seen and heard at 109 beats per minute.
May 11, 2010 - Two months pregnant.
May 12, 2010 - Second ultrasound. Baby is 8 weeks, 6 days old, but measures 8 weeks, 4 days. Again, late implantation is assumed. Heartbeat was seen and heard at 169 beats per minute.
May 17, 2010 - 10:30 pm bleeding begins without warning. A friend drives me to the hospital. An on-call gynecologist performs an ultrasound. Heartbeat is seen, but not measured. I am sent home and told to be on bedrest for at least one full week. Baby is 9 weeks, 4 days old.
May 18, 2010 - Go into the city for preparatory blood work for Win-Rho needle.
There is a known blood-incompatibility issue, so the Win-Rho prevents complications. Win-Rho is considered a blood product. It prevents my body from creating anti-bodies to the unborn baby's blood-type. If the anti-bodies are made, my body would try to destroy the "foreign" blood proteins, leading to anemia or other complications in the baby, and possibly death. Also, once my blood has the antibodies, they are permanently there, and would put future pregnancies at risk.
There are three pregnancy-related situations that warrent the use of win-rho, for me: Any time there is bleeding in one of my pregnancies; at 20 weeks gestation (even without bleeding); and after giving birth. I believe I was told that Win-Rho must be given within 72 hours of any of these events, in order to be effective.
May 19, 2010 - Go back into the city for the actual Win-Rho needle. It took time to process yesterday's blood test (to see if my body has already made anti-bodies, which would have been a bad thing). Thankfully, my body had not produced the anti-bodies, so the Win-Rho is injected.
The fertility clinic also took time to fit me in for an ultrasound, as I was spotting, but not bleeding as badly as on May 17th.
The ultrasound showed that Baby no longer had a heartbeat. Baby was 9 weeks, 6 days.
I was given three options:
1. Let things happen naturally, on their own. This could potentially take several days...or more. There is a small risk that D&C will eventually be required.
2. Take a medication to "speed things along"...I would then likely miscarry within 3-6 hours of taking it. There is a small risk that D&C will eventually be required.
3. Have a D&C (they dilate the cervix and scrape everything out), this is done under general anesthesia. There is a very small risk that eventually a second D&C would be required.
I chose option #2.
That night, at around 6:30pm, I took the medication, even though I was already beginning to cramp...indicating that my body would possibly have miscarried soon and naturally on it's own.
At around 10:30pm, I miscarried...you can read more about that in an earlier post. I ended up bleeding for about 10 days afterwards...although it was greatly tapered for the last couple.
May 20, 2010 - Buried Baby "Hope".
May 23, 2010 - My 12th wedding anniversary.
May 25, 2010 - Blood test, to check hcg (pregnancy hormone); my hcg level is "199"...although it hadn't been measured recently, prior to this, the level would have been in the thousands about a week earlier.
May 28, 2010 - An ultrasound was performed to see if all the "pregnancy tissues have passed"...basically checking to see if I need a D&C. All was clear and looked "good"...medically speaking.
May 29, 2010 - Bleeding discontinued.
May 30, 2010 - My 37th birthday.
June 1, 2010 - Blood test to check hcg; my hcg level is "17".
A test result of 0-5 is considered "not pregnant".
April 6, 2010 - Faintly Positive Home Pregnancy Test (and DH's birthday)
April 7, 2010 - Second Faintly Positive Home Pregnancy Test
April 8, 2010 - Positive Blood Test! Hcg (pregnancy hormone) Level is "104". I am considered "4 weeks" pregnant (gestationally)...that is how the medical community does it...it's dated from the LMP (last menstrual period), NOT from the date of conception.
April 28, 2010 - First ultrasound. Embryo is 6 weeks, 6 days old, but measures at 6 weeks 3 days, presumably from late implantation. Heartbeat was seen and heard at 109 beats per minute.
May 11, 2010 - Two months pregnant.
May 12, 2010 - Second ultrasound. Baby is 8 weeks, 6 days old, but measures 8 weeks, 4 days. Again, late implantation is assumed. Heartbeat was seen and heard at 169 beats per minute.
May 17, 2010 - 10:30 pm bleeding begins without warning. A friend drives me to the hospital. An on-call gynecologist performs an ultrasound. Heartbeat is seen, but not measured. I am sent home and told to be on bedrest for at least one full week. Baby is 9 weeks, 4 days old.
May 18, 2010 - Go into the city for preparatory blood work for Win-Rho needle.
There is a known blood-incompatibility issue, so the Win-Rho prevents complications. Win-Rho is considered a blood product. It prevents my body from creating anti-bodies to the unborn baby's blood-type. If the anti-bodies are made, my body would try to destroy the "foreign" blood proteins, leading to anemia or other complications in the baby, and possibly death. Also, once my blood has the antibodies, they are permanently there, and would put future pregnancies at risk.
There are three pregnancy-related situations that warrent the use of win-rho, for me: Any time there is bleeding in one of my pregnancies; at 20 weeks gestation (even without bleeding); and after giving birth. I believe I was told that Win-Rho must be given within 72 hours of any of these events, in order to be effective.
May 19, 2010 - Go back into the city for the actual Win-Rho needle. It took time to process yesterday's blood test (to see if my body has already made anti-bodies, which would have been a bad thing). Thankfully, my body had not produced the anti-bodies, so the Win-Rho is injected.
The fertility clinic also took time to fit me in for an ultrasound, as I was spotting, but not bleeding as badly as on May 17th.
The ultrasound showed that Baby no longer had a heartbeat. Baby was 9 weeks, 6 days.
I was given three options:
1. Let things happen naturally, on their own. This could potentially take several days...or more. There is a small risk that D&C will eventually be required.
2. Take a medication to "speed things along"...I would then likely miscarry within 3-6 hours of taking it. There is a small risk that D&C will eventually be required.
3. Have a D&C (they dilate the cervix and scrape everything out), this is done under general anesthesia. There is a very small risk that eventually a second D&C would be required.
I chose option #2.
That night, at around 6:30pm, I took the medication, even though I was already beginning to cramp...indicating that my body would possibly have miscarried soon and naturally on it's own.
At around 10:30pm, I miscarried...you can read more about that in an earlier post. I ended up bleeding for about 10 days afterwards...although it was greatly tapered for the last couple.
May 20, 2010 - Buried Baby "Hope".
May 23, 2010 - My 12th wedding anniversary.
May 25, 2010 - Blood test, to check hcg (pregnancy hormone); my hcg level is "199"...although it hadn't been measured recently, prior to this, the level would have been in the thousands about a week earlier.
May 28, 2010 - An ultrasound was performed to see if all the "pregnancy tissues have passed"...basically checking to see if I need a D&C. All was clear and looked "good"...medically speaking.
May 29, 2010 - Bleeding discontinued.
May 30, 2010 - My 37th birthday.
June 1, 2010 - Blood test to check hcg; my hcg level is "17".
A test result of 0-5 is considered "not pregnant".
On a Scale of 1 to 10
Yesterday was a 3.5.
Okay, I already mentioned the tears at work yesterday. That sad feeling lingered into the evening, right up until I could finally fall asleep.
Last night, I had to be a part of a crew that was working at a large ceremony. Being in a somewhat upset state of mind to begin with was probably not a good thing. Seeing families, happiness, babies, and pregnant women at every turn caused me to wish I could just run away and hide somewhere...but I didn't. I stuck it out.
The worst part was that two people, that know me, and know what I've been going through, and who were sitting on either side of me, started talking across me about some gorgeous newborn that they know. I could have burst into tears right there, or worse, some sort of angry rant. But, I kept it in.
It's not that people can't talk about babies around me...it's just that I was in a bad place to begin with...it was me...not them. I'm not angry with them. I'm upset at where I'm at in this struggle. I'm worried about the future. Will I ever be able to carry a child to term? Will I even be able to get pregnant again?
Let's look at reality...keep perspective. What if I never have another child? Will that be the end of the world? No. Life will go on.
...but I don't like that scenario. I hope that's not what is in store for me.
I'm feeling selfish in writing those things. Do I not serve a God that has my best interests at heart? Is my God not more powerful than any human struggle? Does He not have a good purpose and good plan for me, and my family, that is beyond my comprehension? Are there not so many others going through much worse, and yet have such strength of character.
I'm rather pathetic right now, aren't I?
Oh, person of little faith...that is how I feel right now. Get on with things, Me! Move on from this melancholy obsession. Let what will be, be...and quit whining about it all. Try again, but don't be this "crazy person".
I don't feel wonderful today, but I think I feel a bit better than yesterday.
Okay, I already mentioned the tears at work yesterday. That sad feeling lingered into the evening, right up until I could finally fall asleep.
Last night, I had to be a part of a crew that was working at a large ceremony. Being in a somewhat upset state of mind to begin with was probably not a good thing. Seeing families, happiness, babies, and pregnant women at every turn caused me to wish I could just run away and hide somewhere...but I didn't. I stuck it out.
The worst part was that two people, that know me, and know what I've been going through, and who were sitting on either side of me, started talking across me about some gorgeous newborn that they know. I could have burst into tears right there, or worse, some sort of angry rant. But, I kept it in.
It's not that people can't talk about babies around me...it's just that I was in a bad place to begin with...it was me...not them. I'm not angry with them. I'm upset at where I'm at in this struggle. I'm worried about the future. Will I ever be able to carry a child to term? Will I even be able to get pregnant again?
Let's look at reality...keep perspective. What if I never have another child? Will that be the end of the world? No. Life will go on.
...but I don't like that scenario. I hope that's not what is in store for me.
I'm feeling selfish in writing those things. Do I not serve a God that has my best interests at heart? Is my God not more powerful than any human struggle? Does He not have a good purpose and good plan for me, and my family, that is beyond my comprehension? Are there not so many others going through much worse, and yet have such strength of character.
I'm rather pathetic right now, aren't I?
Oh, person of little faith...that is how I feel right now. Get on with things, Me! Move on from this melancholy obsession. Let what will be, be...and quit whining about it all. Try again, but don't be this "crazy person".
I don't feel wonderful today, but I think I feel a bit better than yesterday.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Looking Ahead
Today has been a bit of a struggle for me. "Out of the blue" I became teary-eyed just before lunch time at my workplace. I haven't cried at all since last weekend otherwise. Perhaps the gloomy, gray day influenced my moods. Perhaps my feeling of exhaustion is a contributing factor. I feel somber. Unfocused. Dazed.
Monday through Thursday went smoothly at work...minus the first two hours there on Monday. I felt some anxiety and nausea due to nerves, but it lessened and then disappeared altogether by lunch time. Otherwise, my week has been relatively unremarkable.
DH and I are also looking to the future, and are trusting that God will give us our dream and desire for more children in the near future...this is our great hope.
An online support-group friend shared this helpful link:
http://www.sarahs-laughter.com/
Monday through Thursday went smoothly at work...minus the first two hours there on Monday. I felt some anxiety and nausea due to nerves, but it lessened and then disappeared altogether by lunch time. Otherwise, my week has been relatively unremarkable.
DH and I are also looking to the future, and are trusting that God will give us our dream and desire for more children in the near future...this is our great hope.
An online support-group friend shared this helpful link:
http://www.sarahs-laughter.com/
Saturday, May 29, 2010
This Rollercoaster
Have I been fooling myself? Have I been in denial?
I lost my baby 10 days ago. I honestly believed, just this afternoon, that I was on the road to recovery, stability, and healing. Well, I suppose that I am, but maybe not as far along that road as previously assumed.
Tonight, the sadness returns, and the tears along with it...thinking about life's struggles, burdens, and inequalities. I just don't understand...it seems (and is) that many people have so few problems and burdens, and others have so much. I know that there are multitudes of people who suffer more greatly than I ever have, but tonight I feel hurt...I feel like I'm suffering.
How long will this last? When will I know that I'm done grieving like this? When will the pain no longer be like a raw, stinging, open wound?
There are many things to think about right now, and some important choices to be made, in the near future. For now, I'm choosing to keep those specifics to myself. Perhaps I'll share them another day...perhaps. We'll see.
God, give me some direction here, please.
I lost my baby 10 days ago. I honestly believed, just this afternoon, that I was on the road to recovery, stability, and healing. Well, I suppose that I am, but maybe not as far along that road as previously assumed.
Tonight, the sadness returns, and the tears along with it...thinking about life's struggles, burdens, and inequalities. I just don't understand...it seems (and is) that many people have so few problems and burdens, and others have so much. I know that there are multitudes of people who suffer more greatly than I ever have, but tonight I feel hurt...I feel like I'm suffering.
How long will this last? When will I know that I'm done grieving like this? When will the pain no longer be like a raw, stinging, open wound?
There are many things to think about right now, and some important choices to be made, in the near future. For now, I'm choosing to keep those specifics to myself. Perhaps I'll share them another day...perhaps. We'll see.
God, give me some direction here, please.
Feeling Encouraged
I have given rest to the weary and joy to the sorrowing.
Jeremiah 31:25
Friends and family...thank-you so much for your continued support. I feel encouarged and am beginning to look towards the future again with renewed hope and peace...my faith in Christ is my hope and strength in hardship.
Let all who take refuge in you rejoice; let them sing joyful praises
forever. Spread your protection over them, that all who love your
name may be filled with joy.
Psalm 5:11
My ultrasound was clean and clear yesterday...no complications, no concerns. I am thankful for that. I thought it would be difficult to be there and have it done, but I left feeling renewed hope for future attempts. My doctor was a great encouragement.
DH and I also visited my mom yesterday. It didn't exactly go as expected...but she is aware of what has occurred, and seemed fine when we left her.
Thank-you, Lord for your loving-kindness through this time...keep me growing strong.
Christ was make his home in your hearts as you trust him. Your roots
will grow down into God's love and keep you strong.
Ephesians 3:17
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Conquering Fear
Fear is the easier path to take right now, but I do not wish to do what would be easy. Isn't that what the enemy is hoping for? My mind is set against it, speaking truth to my heart. Lord, let it deeply sink in.
This fear came on suddenly, when my DS boarded a bus for a youth convention. DH was at work, and I was alone at the edge of Highway 16...watching the yellow bus shrinking in the distance, and disappearing over the horizon. Fear. What if I lost my other child? Why did I let him go? Fear. What if I lost everyone near to me? Fear. What if all of my worst fears came true? What if...
Banishing those fears, demanding they depart, I meet DH for lunch and we venture together to purchase a round paving stone that I've chosen to use in the memorial in lieu of a field stone. I'm anxious to get started. This will likely take several days, but I will post a picture of the completed stone in the near future.
I am trying my best to have courage and really feel the love of God...but no matter my struggle, I was recently reminded that "God is a big boy. He can handle my fears, sadness, and frustration."
Ultimately, I do believe that my children belong to God, not to me. And whether they are here with me on the earth, or in God's presence in heaven...they are in God's hands. He loves them. He loves me...I do wish that Hope could have been here with me for quite a while longer though.
This fear came on suddenly, when my DS boarded a bus for a youth convention. DH was at work, and I was alone at the edge of Highway 16...watching the yellow bus shrinking in the distance, and disappearing over the horizon. Fear. What if I lost my other child? Why did I let him go? Fear. What if I lost everyone near to me? Fear. What if all of my worst fears came true? What if...
"Don't be afraid, for I am with you. Don't be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand." Isaiah 41:10
Banishing those fears, demanding they depart, I meet DH for lunch and we venture together to purchase a round paving stone that I've chosen to use in the memorial in lieu of a field stone. I'm anxious to get started. This will likely take several days, but I will post a picture of the completed stone in the near future.
I am trying my best to have courage and really feel the love of God...but no matter my struggle, I was recently reminded that "God is a big boy. He can handle my fears, sadness, and frustration."
Ultimately, I do believe that my children belong to God, not to me. And whether they are here with me on the earth, or in God's presence in heaven...they are in God's hands. He loves them. He loves me...I do wish that Hope could have been here with me for quite a while longer though.
I am convinced that nothing can ever seperate us from God's love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow - not even the powers of hell can seperate us from God's love." Romans 8:38
Let the Waters Rise by Mikeschair
God, You know where I've been
You were there with me then
You were faithful before
You'll be faithful again
I'm holding Your hand
There's a raging sea
Right in front of me
Wants to pull me in
Bring me to my knees
So let the waters rise
If You want them to
I will follow You
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Tired
Exhausted is how I felt this morning, even after waking from a long sleep.
Numbness once again visits me.
Exactly one week ago, we found out that our baby's heart stopped beating. We miscarried that same day at around 10:30pm.
I was recently informed that, although I did not experience a full-term pregnancy, I would experience a post-natal hormone crash, like the kind that follows the delivery of a child. Perhaps that is why I am up and down in some unpredictable manner.
The bleeding is there, but still tapering. The cramps are there, but lessened. The numbness is there. The shock. Disbelief.
Right or wrong...I pity myself right now.
Numbness once again visits me.
Exactly one week ago, we found out that our baby's heart stopped beating. We miscarried that same day at around 10:30pm.
I was recently informed that, although I did not experience a full-term pregnancy, I would experience a post-natal hormone crash, like the kind that follows the delivery of a child. Perhaps that is why I am up and down in some unpredictable manner.
The bleeding is there, but still tapering. The cramps are there, but lessened. The numbness is there. The shock. Disbelief.
Right or wrong...I pity myself right now.
Then Jesus said, "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light."
Matthew 11:28-30
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Zoomed In - Part II
Sleep will hopefully be mine within the hour. I'm exhausted, but want to finish up this day's post...I'm sure to be less wordy, as my mind feels a bit mushy at the moment.
This afternoon, after my incident in the lab, I chose to visit a friend of many years who is, sadly, all too familiar with miscarriage, firsthand. I chose to have this visit, instead of seeing my mother...who remains unaware that this grandbaby of hers is now gone. My mom has been very ill lately...and so happy about this pregnancy. I do not look forward to sharing this news, but it must happen. Friday.
DH will go to the city with me on Friday...for two sad reasons. We will share our news with my mom, and I am scheduled to have an ultrasound, to make certain that "all the tissues have passed". I'm already quite certain that Friday will be a challenging day for me.
The visit with my friend was so needed. She spoke openly of her personal experience with miscarriage, and how that has affected her these many years. It was soothing to know that she never forgets, but that she has healed.
Upon my return home, a co-worker and friend dropped over to present a gift from the staff at the school where I work. Thank-you, all, for your thoughtfulness. I love my work at the school, and I love doing that work alongside each of you.
Later this evening, another co-worker and friend phoned to let me know that she cares. She is so genuine and empathetic...thank-you. I am going to choose my Hope rocks (for my memorial) from her farm. Perhaps later this week when the field is somewhat drier.
Thank-you, also, to those who have supported me (and continue to do so) in this walk...and for those who are reading my blog and commenting with positive and encouraging remarks. I really need to do this. I want you each to know that it means so much to me that you care...what can I say, except "thank-you".
This afternoon, after my incident in the lab, I chose to visit a friend of many years who is, sadly, all too familiar with miscarriage, firsthand. I chose to have this visit, instead of seeing my mother...who remains unaware that this grandbaby of hers is now gone. My mom has been very ill lately...and so happy about this pregnancy. I do not look forward to sharing this news, but it must happen. Friday.
DH will go to the city with me on Friday...for two sad reasons. We will share our news with my mom, and I am scheduled to have an ultrasound, to make certain that "all the tissues have passed". I'm already quite certain that Friday will be a challenging day for me.
The visit with my friend was so needed. She spoke openly of her personal experience with miscarriage, and how that has affected her these many years. It was soothing to know that she never forgets, but that she has healed.
Upon my return home, a co-worker and friend dropped over to present a gift from the staff at the school where I work. Thank-you, all, for your thoughtfulness. I love my work at the school, and I love doing that work alongside each of you.
Later this evening, another co-worker and friend phoned to let me know that she cares. She is so genuine and empathetic...thank-you. I am going to choose my Hope rocks (for my memorial) from her farm. Perhaps later this week when the field is somewhat drier.
Thank-you, also, to those who have supported me (and continue to do so) in this walk...and for those who are reading my blog and commenting with positive and encouraging remarks. I really need to do this. I want you each to know that it means so much to me that you care...what can I say, except "thank-you".
Zoomed In
Gray clouds hover and weep heavily today, the ground saturated with their tears. The day matches my emotions at the moment. It's as though yesterday's distance from my miscarriage experience has suddenly been zoomed in, as through a high-power lens.
My radio alarm woke me from a fitful sleep that was lacking. Even with closed curtains, I immediately knew that the day was dreary and cool...matching my heart. Through thick walls of unceasing rainfall, I made my way to the school where I work, and where my dear son (DS) takes classes. Turning into the parking lot, just after the first tone, I was greatly relieved to not have to enter the building.
...why would that be? My friends and co-workers have been supportive and kind throughout this week.
Upon reflection, I am afraid of that first real encounter.
I might cry a little, or a lot. I might not cry at all. I might have to answer their questions, or perhaps it will be awkward and no questions will be asked. I am afraid to be confronted with eyes and hearts that care, yet pity me. I am afraid to just go on, as if nothing has changed...as if I am the same, and as if this baby never existed. I am afraid to talk about my hopes for another pregnancy soon. I am afraid that my friends will eventually grow bored and weary of my lingering sadness. I am afraid that if I don't cry or show sadness, that I'll be seen as having completed my mourning, or that I am simply callous.
I am afraid.
Once DS entered the building, I continued towards the city where I would get bloodwork done and then stop in at my mom's place to tell her my sad news. The XM radio has been a wonderful thing, but most of the songs caused my eyes to moisten on this dreary morning.
Upon arrival at the hospital lab, where I get my blood drawn, I felt as though I might have been "done" mourning for the day. Sitting in the waiting area, I was proved wrong. All it took was one magazine on a side table to catch my eye. A parenting-type magazine. The kind with a picture of an adorable and healthy baby on the cover.
My baby is gone. My hope for this pregnancy is gone. I will not have a healthy baby...a baby at all, this December. That dream is gone. It's gone.
Tears begin to well up.
Keep yourself together, J. Don't lose it here. Don't lose it now.
I bite the tip of my tongue, so that the pain of it will distract me from the pain in my heart, and the thoughts developing in my mind. Deep breath. Concentrate on the pattern on the ceiling. Anything but the pain in my heart.
Okay. Safe...for the moment.
My name is called. A woman in dark blue patterned scrubs, and who appears to be in her twenties, looks at me expectantly. I follow her into a cubicle, sitting in the foamy yellow chair while she prepares the needle.
Uh-oh...please, no.
All those feelings from the waiting area manage to pry their way into this small room with me. Tears come. Lots of tears. Contorted face, runny nose, gasps and sniffles and sobs. Little sobs, then full-blown can't-stop-this-from-happening-now sobs.
Poor, poor twenty-something woman with the needle. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." I repeat this over and over between gasps and breaths. I find myself telling her, between snuffles, all about what's going on in my life right now. I tell her about my mother who is ill, I tell her about going through years and years of heart-wrenching infertility, and I tell her about losing this baby a day before my tenth week of pregnancy was starting.
Grabbing my shoulders, she pulls close, hugging me...telling me it's okay to cry. She tells me that it's a hard time. She says that sometimes we just need to let it out. She tells me that yesterday she found herself crying uncontrollably in the grocery store, because her own mother is dying from cancer. Her tight embrace comforts me. My tears wet her shoulder, but she doesn't pull back...she just holds on. Thank-you, lady with the needle.
Why didn't I let DH go with me today, for this bloodwork? The answer is that I thought I was strong...that I was okay. Even though this is a sad time, I've been through many sad times.
...I thought I was okay.
He wanted to come, but I told him not to. Truth be told, I needed him there with me, but just didn't realize it until it was too late.
...okay, enough for now. I'm taking a break from this blogging session. I'll finish today's blog at a later time.
My radio alarm woke me from a fitful sleep that was lacking. Even with closed curtains, I immediately knew that the day was dreary and cool...matching my heart. Through thick walls of unceasing rainfall, I made my way to the school where I work, and where my dear son (DS) takes classes. Turning into the parking lot, just after the first tone, I was greatly relieved to not have to enter the building.
...why would that be? My friends and co-workers have been supportive and kind throughout this week.
Upon reflection, I am afraid of that first real encounter.
I might cry a little, or a lot. I might not cry at all. I might have to answer their questions, or perhaps it will be awkward and no questions will be asked. I am afraid to be confronted with eyes and hearts that care, yet pity me. I am afraid to just go on, as if nothing has changed...as if I am the same, and as if this baby never existed. I am afraid to talk about my hopes for another pregnancy soon. I am afraid that my friends will eventually grow bored and weary of my lingering sadness. I am afraid that if I don't cry or show sadness, that I'll be seen as having completed my mourning, or that I am simply callous.
I am afraid.
Once DS entered the building, I continued towards the city where I would get bloodwork done and then stop in at my mom's place to tell her my sad news. The XM radio has been a wonderful thing, but most of the songs caused my eyes to moisten on this dreary morning.
Upon arrival at the hospital lab, where I get my blood drawn, I felt as though I might have been "done" mourning for the day. Sitting in the waiting area, I was proved wrong. All it took was one magazine on a side table to catch my eye. A parenting-type magazine. The kind with a picture of an adorable and healthy baby on the cover.
My baby is gone. My hope for this pregnancy is gone. I will not have a healthy baby...a baby at all, this December. That dream is gone. It's gone.
Tears begin to well up.
Keep yourself together, J. Don't lose it here. Don't lose it now.
I bite the tip of my tongue, so that the pain of it will distract me from the pain in my heart, and the thoughts developing in my mind. Deep breath. Concentrate on the pattern on the ceiling. Anything but the pain in my heart.
Okay. Safe...for the moment.
My name is called. A woman in dark blue patterned scrubs, and who appears to be in her twenties, looks at me expectantly. I follow her into a cubicle, sitting in the foamy yellow chair while she prepares the needle.
Uh-oh...please, no.
All those feelings from the waiting area manage to pry their way into this small room with me. Tears come. Lots of tears. Contorted face, runny nose, gasps and sniffles and sobs. Little sobs, then full-blown can't-stop-this-from-happening-now sobs.
Poor, poor twenty-something woman with the needle. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." I repeat this over and over between gasps and breaths. I find myself telling her, between snuffles, all about what's going on in my life right now. I tell her about my mother who is ill, I tell her about going through years and years of heart-wrenching infertility, and I tell her about losing this baby a day before my tenth week of pregnancy was starting.
Grabbing my shoulders, she pulls close, hugging me...telling me it's okay to cry. She tells me that it's a hard time. She says that sometimes we just need to let it out. She tells me that yesterday she found herself crying uncontrollably in the grocery store, because her own mother is dying from cancer. Her tight embrace comforts me. My tears wet her shoulder, but she doesn't pull back...she just holds on. Thank-you, lady with the needle.
Why didn't I let DH go with me today, for this bloodwork? The answer is that I thought I was strong...that I was okay. Even though this is a sad time, I've been through many sad times.
...I thought I was okay.
He wanted to come, but I told him not to. Truth be told, I needed him there with me, but just didn't realize it until it was too late.
...okay, enough for now. I'm taking a break from this blogging session. I'll finish today's blog at a later time.
Yesterday
May 24, 2010 at 1:30pm
Traveling home from Manitoba, I feel a mild distance between the present and the experience of losing my baby only five days ago. What does this mean? Am I healing? In denial? Am I strong? Am I weak? Heartless? I know that I miscarried a child I desperately desired with all of my heart, yet my heart is not in that place at this present moment. I feel somewhat empty of emotion. A mere cast or shadow of humanity. How can that be? The guilt creeps in, whispering, what kind of person are you, that you are not crying for your lost baby?
...to be continued.
May 24, 2010 at 5:30pm
The journey continues. As we pass the exit for Aylesbury, Saskatchewan, I sign out from my Yahoo! Mail with a grateful and glowing heart. Support is flooding into my life and heart from the lives and hearts of those close to me. This outpouring of kindness and compassion has eased the ache in my heart today...a balm of love to soothe the pain. Thank-you, everyone.
Traveling home from Manitoba, I feel a mild distance between the present and the experience of losing my baby only five days ago. What does this mean? Am I healing? In denial? Am I strong? Am I weak? Heartless? I know that I miscarried a child I desperately desired with all of my heart, yet my heart is not in that place at this present moment. I feel somewhat empty of emotion. A mere cast or shadow of humanity. How can that be? The guilt creeps in, whispering, what kind of person are you, that you are not crying for your lost baby?
...to be continued.
May 24, 2010 at 5:30pm
The journey continues. As we pass the exit for Aylesbury, Saskatchewan, I sign out from my Yahoo! Mail with a grateful and glowing heart. Support is flooding into my life and heart from the lives and hearts of those close to me. This outpouring of kindness and compassion has eased the ache in my heart today...a balm of love to soothe the pain. Thank-you, everyone.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
The Past, Present, and Future
My mind is currently in all three of these places.
Over and over, I replay moments in this brief pregnancy, remembering the sheer joy I felt when things were going well, reflecting on those things that I know I did right, and wondering about the ways in which I may have failed or been neglectful. Many of these thoughts are futile...I cannot change the past.
The present is a whole new reality...I'm treading in new territory. So unfamiliar. The joys of the day are overshadowed by the clouds of this new past that has become a part of my life story. My body continues to cramp and bleed. The cramping is quite strong still, but the bleeding seems to be tapering a bit. I'm told that these two symptoms can linger for up to three weeks. I hope it won't be quite that long.
My thoughts are tempted to land on places that I would rather they avoid. I am tempted to think, entertain, and possibly believe several upsetting ideas...ideas that would not glorify Christ, nor allow me to respect myself for them if I were to accept these as true.
Below, are some of the thoughts that have flittered into my consciousness, but that I'm trying desperately not to entertain...I don't want to give them a foothold, allowing them to incapacitate me...chaining me to the pain of this experience:
1. I do not 'deserve' more children.
2. I may not be able to carry another child to term.
3. As an act of self-preservation, I should avoid other people, even those I care about, who are pregnant or who have young children, or large families...because my situation seems so unfair to me, and seeing their blessing feels a bit like a slap in the face.
4. It's my fault this baby died.
5. I'm not good enough.
6. What was I thinking? Having a child at my age...so foolish of me. I should have known better.
7. How long can we afford fertility treatments for...how long until my age demands we stop trying? It's not fair that so many others can just have children whenever they want.
8. It's just not fair.
In the midst of past and present dealings, my thoughts are already looking ahead to what the future will have in store. I long to try again soon. I am sincerely hopeful that my DH and I will be able to conceive quickly, and that I will be able to carry a healthy child to term. I will not forget nor replace Hope, but seek God's blessing for a third pregnancy and third child...one I will nurse in my arms. A child to pray for and sing over. A child with a future here with me on earth, for mutual enjoyment and love under the blessing of the Lord's hand and light.
My hope and prayer is also that God would use this tragedy so that my DH and I may have more compassion for others, and minister to their hurting hearts with a true understanding and depth of love that we would never otherwise have had.
I pray that I may find complete peace and healing in this sorrowful journey. I hope that I will be able to sincerely share in the joy of others who are blessed with pregnancies and children...and that I will realize that each person walks their own path and has their own struggles and sorrows to deal with...that I will not judge based on assumptions and exteriors. I hope that soon I will have joyful news of my own to share, and that I will feel those first kicks, hear that first cry, smell that sweet breath, and see those first steps with our third child. I seek courage, faith, and hope in the face our next pregnancy attempt.
Over and over, I replay moments in this brief pregnancy, remembering the sheer joy I felt when things were going well, reflecting on those things that I know I did right, and wondering about the ways in which I may have failed or been neglectful. Many of these thoughts are futile...I cannot change the past.
Even though the fig trees have no blossoms,and there are no grapes on the vines; even though the olive crop fails, and the fields lie empty and barren; even though the flocks die in the fields, and the cattle barns are empty, yet I will rejoice in the Lord! I will be joyful in the God of my salvation!
Habakkuk 3:17,18
The present is a whole new reality...I'm treading in new territory. So unfamiliar. The joys of the day are overshadowed by the clouds of this new past that has become a part of my life story. My body continues to cramp and bleed. The cramping is quite strong still, but the bleeding seems to be tapering a bit. I'm told that these two symptoms can linger for up to three weeks. I hope it won't be quite that long.
My thoughts are tempted to land on places that I would rather they avoid. I am tempted to think, entertain, and possibly believe several upsetting ideas...ideas that would not glorify Christ, nor allow me to respect myself for them if I were to accept these as true.
I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.
John 16:33
Below, are some of the thoughts that have flittered into my consciousness, but that I'm trying desperately not to entertain...I don't want to give them a foothold, allowing them to incapacitate me...chaining me to the pain of this experience:
1. I do not 'deserve' more children.
2. I may not be able to carry another child to term.
3. As an act of self-preservation, I should avoid other people, even those I care about, who are pregnant or who have young children, or large families...because my situation seems so unfair to me, and seeing their blessing feels a bit like a slap in the face.
4. It's my fault this baby died.
5. I'm not good enough.
6. What was I thinking? Having a child at my age...so foolish of me. I should have known better.
7. How long can we afford fertility treatments for...how long until my age demands we stop trying? It's not fair that so many others can just have children whenever they want.
8. It's just not fair.
"When doubts filled my mind, your comfort gave me renewed hope and cheer."
Psalm 94:19
In the midst of past and present dealings, my thoughts are already looking ahead to what the future will have in store. I long to try again soon. I am sincerely hopeful that my DH and I will be able to conceive quickly, and that I will be able to carry a healthy child to term. I will not forget nor replace Hope, but seek God's blessing for a third pregnancy and third child...one I will nurse in my arms. A child to pray for and sing over. A child with a future here with me on earth, for mutual enjoyment and love under the blessing of the Lord's hand and light.
"I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord.
They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope."
Jeremiah 29:11
My hope and prayer is also that God would use this tragedy so that my DH and I may have more compassion for others, and minister to their hurting hearts with a true understanding and depth of love that we would never otherwise have had.
All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.
2 Corinthians 1:3,4
I pray that I may find complete peace and healing in this sorrowful journey. I hope that I will be able to sincerely share in the joy of others who are blessed with pregnancies and children...and that I will realize that each person walks their own path and has their own struggles and sorrows to deal with...that I will not judge based on assumptions and exteriors. I hope that soon I will have joyful news of my own to share, and that I will feel those first kicks, hear that first cry, smell that sweet breath, and see those first steps with our third child. I seek courage, faith, and hope in the face our next pregnancy attempt.
I am leaving you with a gift - peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don't be troubled or afraid.
John 14:27
A Sad Day
My dear husband (DH) and I lost our little baby on Wednesday, May 18th, 2010 at 10:30pm. I felt that "she" was a girl, so we named her "Hope". Initially, I did feel that our Hope was lost...but now, I am convinced that my Hope is with Jesus Christ.
Two days previously...on Monday, May 16, 2010, I began to bleed in the late evening. I think it was around 11pm, but now that night is a blur. I phoned my supervisor at work, and shakily informed her that I thought I might be miscarrying. She was so compassionate, and even offered to come be with me. Although I didn't take her up on it, I was so grateful. She informed me that a sub would be found, and that I was not to worry about work.
I phoned a neighbour and friend, who dropped everything in order to drive me the 70km or so to the hospital where my DH could meet us at...as he was out of town, but the hospital was half way between us. This was not the hospital that my specialist works out of...that was an hour's drive from my home in the opposite direction.
My DH was there when I arrived. The nurse in the ER was so compassionate and full of hope...informing us that bleeding was common in pregnancy, and that it didn't always mean something negative. I was so nervous...I had such a forboding feeling.
A gynecologist was paged, as the doctor in the ER felt it was best to call in a specialist to do an ultrasound. The new doctor, a friendly and compassionate man, eased our fears as he performed the scan and showed me what I desperately longed to see...our little baby's beating heart. "Everything looks good and normal," came out of his mouth. He said that it was a threatened misscarriage, but it doesn't mean that it will end up in miscarriage. Placing me on at least one week of bedrest, he discharged me to go home.
I tried so hard to do everything "right"...but it didn't matter.
When my body rejected and expelled her, we were genuinely blessed to have been able to see and hold her tiny figure. She appeared perfect in every way. Hope's tiny, cream-coloured body was clearly visible inside her in-tact yolk sac. Her dark eyes, round head, and well-formed arms and legs were amazing, and heart-breaking, to see.
We placed her in an earring box...she was just over 2cm long, and fit perfectly. So small. Gently, we wrapped her in a favourite bandana of mine and when the T3 that my fertility specialist gave me began to kick in, and the edge was taken off of the cramps...and when my DH and I were too tired to keep our eyes opened, we went to bed...the first hard night...such a surreal night...the memories of it will never leave me.
On Thursday, May 19th, after my teen son left for school, DH and I drove to the nearby river, precious cargo in hand. We stopped and found a spot at Gnarly Crowe, a tree of great character and appeal, that my son and I named months previously. It is under Gnarly Crowe that my dead baby has been put to rest. DH grieved so purely as our little one's remains were placed in the earth. It felt so wrong. It is so wrong. I was in a fog...barely conscious of what it was that we were actually doing with the life that was certainly alive in me just a few short days previously.
I will write more later...and include a picture of Gnarly Crowe.
Hope is not gone. Hope is alive with Jesus.
Two days previously...on Monday, May 16, 2010, I began to bleed in the late evening. I think it was around 11pm, but now that night is a blur. I phoned my supervisor at work, and shakily informed her that I thought I might be miscarrying. She was so compassionate, and even offered to come be with me. Although I didn't take her up on it, I was so grateful. She informed me that a sub would be found, and that I was not to worry about work.
I phoned a neighbour and friend, who dropped everything in order to drive me the 70km or so to the hospital where my DH could meet us at...as he was out of town, but the hospital was half way between us. This was not the hospital that my specialist works out of...that was an hour's drive from my home in the opposite direction.
My DH was there when I arrived. The nurse in the ER was so compassionate and full of hope...informing us that bleeding was common in pregnancy, and that it didn't always mean something negative. I was so nervous...I had such a forboding feeling.
A gynecologist was paged, as the doctor in the ER felt it was best to call in a specialist to do an ultrasound. The new doctor, a friendly and compassionate man, eased our fears as he performed the scan and showed me what I desperately longed to see...our little baby's beating heart. "Everything looks good and normal," came out of his mouth. He said that it was a threatened misscarriage, but it doesn't mean that it will end up in miscarriage. Placing me on at least one week of bedrest, he discharged me to go home.
I tried so hard to do everything "right"...but it didn't matter.
When my body rejected and expelled her, we were genuinely blessed to have been able to see and hold her tiny figure. She appeared perfect in every way. Hope's tiny, cream-coloured body was clearly visible inside her in-tact yolk sac. Her dark eyes, round head, and well-formed arms and legs were amazing, and heart-breaking, to see.
We placed her in an earring box...she was just over 2cm long, and fit perfectly. So small. Gently, we wrapped her in a favourite bandana of mine and when the T3 that my fertility specialist gave me began to kick in, and the edge was taken off of the cramps...and when my DH and I were too tired to keep our eyes opened, we went to bed...the first hard night...such a surreal night...the memories of it will never leave me.
On Thursday, May 19th, after my teen son left for school, DH and I drove to the nearby river, precious cargo in hand. We stopped and found a spot at Gnarly Crowe, a tree of great character and appeal, that my son and I named months previously. It is under Gnarly Crowe that my dead baby has been put to rest. DH grieved so purely as our little one's remains were placed in the earth. It felt so wrong. It is so wrong. I was in a fog...barely conscious of what it was that we were actually doing with the life that was certainly alive in me just a few short days previously.
I will write more later...and include a picture of Gnarly Crowe.
Hope is not gone. Hope is alive with Jesus.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Make a joyful noise!
Today it was so difficult to focus at work. My mind is tightly wrapped around the idea of having a baby. We will be doing our IUI in mid-February! :-)
Sunday, December 13, 2009
December Wordle
Click on the title, "December Wordle" above to take a look at the first "Wordle" I've ever made. I didn't know how to imbed it here, so you'll have to go to the Wordle site.
It's All About God...and a baby.
I want what God wants for me...at least that's what my head says. In honesty, I'm hoping to the depths of my being that He wants a baby for my DH (dear husband) and I. Actually, just one baby to start with. I am hoping for several.
Here are some of the facts, though:
* God's will will be done, regardless of my plans. I am loved by him, so am hoping that a larger family is in his plan for my life.
* My dh and I are clinically infertile - we have seen a reproductive specialist, but we don't have results from initial tests...yet.
* I am 36 years old...enough said there.
* I may have other health concerns, but a firm diagnosis has not been pinned down. It may (or may not) end up being MS.
* I have been married more than 10 years, but this is the first time dh and I can really afford the treatments...and it's the first time we've been on the same page since being able to afford treatments.
* We have a wonderful teenager already...so basically, we're committing ourselves to a very long time period of parenting - but oh so looking forward to the new adventure!
* I am remaining anonymous due to privacy issues for my family...but I really, desperately needed an outlet to share my thoughts and feelings...so a blog it is.
I'm praying for a healthy pregnancy and baby in the near future. I have a sono-hysterogram booked for January 12, 2010. Hopefully, if it is clear, we'll be pregnant soon thereafter. My DH and I are so excited...we even have a girl's name already picked out...and are working on a boy's name. Perhaps that is premature, but we can hardly help ourselves...it's so intensely on our hearts!
Here are some of the facts, though:
* God's will will be done, regardless of my plans. I am loved by him, so am hoping that a larger family is in his plan for my life.
* My dh and I are clinically infertile - we have seen a reproductive specialist, but we don't have results from initial tests...yet.
* I am 36 years old...enough said there.
* I may have other health concerns, but a firm diagnosis has not been pinned down. It may (or may not) end up being MS.
* I have been married more than 10 years, but this is the first time dh and I can really afford the treatments...and it's the first time we've been on the same page since being able to afford treatments.
* We have a wonderful teenager already...so basically, we're committing ourselves to a very long time period of parenting - but oh so looking forward to the new adventure!
* I am remaining anonymous due to privacy issues for my family...but I really, desperately needed an outlet to share my thoughts and feelings...so a blog it is.
I'm praying for a healthy pregnancy and baby in the near future. I have a sono-hysterogram booked for January 12, 2010. Hopefully, if it is clear, we'll be pregnant soon thereafter. My DH and I are so excited...we even have a girl's name already picked out...and are working on a boy's name. Perhaps that is premature, but we can hardly help ourselves...it's so intensely on our hearts!
Monday, October 26, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Longing for Solitude
Many people prefer spending most of their time with others, but I often prefer alone time in nature. If I don't get my quota, I am prone to becoming like a grumbling bear in a cage...and then it's no fun for anyone. I should do better with others when they want to spend time with me, but it is a truly difficult and energy-consuming feat. Please be patient. I am trying.
PrairieJ
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Greetings
I'm not sure whether or not I'll be anonymous in this blog. There are so many things I'd like to mention, but not everyone in my life would be comfortable with my disclosures.
In the meantime, I will share that I am employed in the education sector, and am the spouse of a Christian minister. I am a parent. I am an individual.
More to come...probably.
PrairieJ
In the meantime, I will share that I am employed in the education sector, and am the spouse of a Christian minister. I am a parent. I am an individual.
More to come...probably.
PrairieJ
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