Last Friday, on November 11th, 2011, Ben and I found out that the sweet baby I was carrying had gone to be with Jesus. This week has been a roller coaster of emotions, but I felt it time to write this post...
Friday morning I woke up and noticed a faint spotting. It was so faint I really wasn't worried about it. I called Ben at work though and he said to go ahead and call the doctor. Reagan and I were scheduled to fly to Texas on that Sunday, so we thought it best to get a clear bill of health before leaving town. So, Ben met Reagan and I at my doctor's office. I was 10 week 3 days along.
My doctor used the Doppler to find the heartbeat but warned that if it didn't pick it up, not to worry. I was still early enough where it sometimes couldn't be heard. No heartbeat was found. Even though she had just finished telling me not to worry, I began getting a sinking feeling. We waited what seemed like forever, though I'm sure it was just a few brief minutes and went to have a sonogram. I saw my beautiful baby up on the screen in front of me. The technician kept repeating that she was just going to keep taking measurements. She then casually said that she was going to go get my doctor because the baby was measuring small. I had no idea what this meant at the time but tears instantly came. My doctor came in and I remember hearing that the baby's head wasn't as formed as it should have been. I finally asked my doctor what this meant and that's when she delivered the blow. I had miscarried. There are no words to describe hearing your baby has passed away all the while looking at their beautiful picture on a large screen in front of you. No words.
Naturally I began weeping inconsolably. My poor Reagan was with us and immediately started crying when she saw me so upset. This still breaks my heart. We were then given our options and escorted back into a private room to call our families. How do you call your mom and tell her that her grandchild has passed away? Or your sister that their niece or nephew? Again, no words.
My doctor thought it best to go ahead and get a DNC instead of passing the tissue naturally. At the time I agreed, though I think I would have liked to go natural looking pack. My appointment was at 10:00. At this point it was 12:30 and I had to be at the hospital at 1:00. I frantically called my sweet friends Kristin and Jennifer to come get Reagan. My mom was able to fly out that day but wouldn't be there until 6:00 that evening. We waited in the waiting room for what seemed like forever and just cried and held each other. Then we were called back into my room.
I had the sweetest nurses that hugged me and rubbed my back and most importantly prayed over me while I melted into their arms and sobbed. They kept Ben in the waiting room while they got me ready for surgery, so the amazing nurses were my only form of support. One sweet nurse just sat with me, told me about her miscarriage and how she now has two healthy beautiful children and even printed out scripture for me to read while I waited. When Ben was allowed to come back in the room she prayed over both of us. We waited in this room for an hour or so...it felt like an eternity yet slipped by too quickly. While I knew my baby had passed, I still desperately wanted to cling to it. I was in fact still pregnant. How do you wake up, go into a hospital pregnant and yet come out with no baby. No words can describe the emptiness that I felt. I truly felt hollow with an empty womb. When I woke up, I was again taken care of by an amazing nurse who also reassured me that I was young and would have more beautiful babies. All comforting words except for the fact that I simply wanted the baby back that I had just lost. I still do.
After we left the hospital we picked up my mom at the airport and went home. My sweet friend brought Reagan to us and I have never wanted to hold her tighter and praise Jesus for giving us a healthy baby. My heart breaks when I think of all of my friends who walk through this season without a child to hold to help heal their wounds. I am so incredibly sorry for them.
That night was a blur. All I remember is staying in Ben's arms sobbing uncontrollably for hours. Saturday was Reagan's birthday party, and I was determined to still have the party. I put my brave face on and hung out with our friends and celebrated my baby girl turning 2. The next week went on how Friday night went....wrapped in Ben's arms crying. I am so thankful for a husband who wept, supported and loved me through this. Who never told me to move on but instead let me cry anytime I needed. This has indeed bonded us for life. Ben, I love you so much. Thank you.
I read in a book called Bittersweet, that I dear friend from church gave me about the difficulty of the mourning process. Other family members, friends and even dads tend to move on quicker in the healing process than moms. How true this is. I had the most difficult time finally cutting my hospital bracelet off because I felt like once I did, that was it. It was over. Forgotten. Never existed. But what a lie. This is our child. Will always be our 2nd child. We are parents now to 2 children. One on earth with us and one in heaven waiting for us. I finally cut the bracelets off though after I came up with the idea to make a memory box. I included all of our sonograms, the bracelets, our congratulatory cards as well as our sympathy cards and our hospital paperwork. I have a necklace that I was given for Mother's Day years ago with two charms..one for Ben and I and the other Reagan. I ordered a third for our sweet baby. After hearing a song by Selah about a miscarriage, we decided to name our baby Glory. It was so incredibly fitting. Glory is everything good and perfect. It's grace. Love. Beauty. Nothing is better than God's glory and we ultimately gave our Glory to God. The song Held by Nicole Grant (which the sweet nurse at the hospital also told me about) has also helped me grieve. I have spent hours listening to it curled up in a ball weeping. Sad but so healing.
I started this blog over a month ago and I am just bringing myself to finishing it and posting it. Definitely the most difficult to date. I chose to write it though because this blog is about my life. Beginning when we built our house and found out we were pregnant with Reagan. While this is a sad story, I feel it is honoring and remembering our Glory baby. Today I am doing much better. I still spend my showers crying more often than not and usually tear up when anybody asks about it...but that's okay. This is my life now, and I am learning to find peace in it through God's glory. Who better to walk us through this journey in life than someone who sent His own son to die for my sins?
