As soon as we had Becca, we decided we would wait until she was two, then start trying for baby #2. We waited until this summer because, once again, I had a plan. We prayed about it, and at the end of July, our prayers were answered. We found out we were going to have another baby – with a due date of April 11th. Oh, the irony. I told Becca first, and donning her ‘I’m going to be a big sister t-shirt’, she told Daddy about our new little miracle . The day couldn’t have been more perfect. All three of us were over the moon. We immediately experienced the ‘new parent feelings’ of being excited, scared, nervous – everything you feel when you find out you’re going to be bringing another child into this world. That was Thursday.
On Saturday, I started spotting. And as you all know, that’s NOT what you want to happen when you’re pregnant. I debated going to the ER, but since we had 8 people staying at our house that weekend (we had a youth rally at our church), I decided to just wait and call my doctor on Monday. I went in first thing so they could check my hcG levels. After waiting for the longest 24 hours of my life, they came back at 61, which the doctor felt like was low. I went back in on Wednesday, and found out my levels had gone up to 96. They still weren’t happy with the numbers, but were optimistic since they had increased. On Friday, I went back in for yet more blood work. This time my numbers doubled – fantastic news! I finally felt like I could breath and be a little excited again.
The next week went well. The spotting stopped, so they made an appointment for 2 weeks later to check my levels again. I started back to work, excited about the new school year and our new baby to be. Then things went downhill again. I was at school on Thursday evening waiting for Open House to start when I started cramping. Without getting too detailed, I went to the bathroom and realized I had started bleeding – not spotting, bleeding. My heart dropped. This was not good. I decided to stay at school since it was 15 minutes before Open House started. I survived, went home, and tried to get some sleep. The next morning brought even more bleeding, so I called the doctors office first thing. After leaving a message and talking with the nurse, I went in to have my hcG levels checked again. They sent them off immediately so I could have my results back by lunch time. I tried to get some work done because I knew this was the last day I would have to get things done before my students arrived on Monday.
The nurse called around 1:00, and even though deep down I knew what was going on, it was still devastating to hear the words that came out of her mouth. My levels had dropped significantly. I was having a miscarriage. My.heart.broke. This baby that we were so excited to have join our family was not going to be.
I left work right away, and JP met me at home. We just sat together and cried. Our baby was gone.
And then there was the job of telling Becca. We decided to just wait and see if she brought it up, and of course she did – that night. She told me she wanted to kiss my baby. I told her that my baby was gone. She asked where he was, and I told her in heaven with Jesus. Definitely the hardest conversation I’ve ever had.
I’ll spare you the details of the miscarriage, but it was by far the worst experience of my life. It made for a very LONG weekend. Then Monday arrived, and I had to put on a happy face and go welcome 24 smiling fifth graders to their first day of school. While the thought of it seemed impossible, I think it helped get it off my mind. I made it through Monday – in fact, I made it through the entire week. I went back in for blood work on Monday, and my numbers were already down to 17 (less than 5 is not pregnant). We were able to meet with Dr. Stallard on Tuesday, and that provided us with a lot of relief. Just talking to someone who assured us that even though this sucked, everything was going to be ok.
I really struggled with whether or not to blog about this, but in the end, I wanted to share my story. Not because I want people to feel sorry for me – just the opposite in fact. I want to share what I've learned in the past 7 days. I’ve always had a strong faith in God, but this has definitely made my faith stronger. I was up ALL night Friday and most of Saturday, so I had a lot of time to cry – a lot of time to think. And after I got over feeling sorry for myself, I decided to just sit and pray. I read my Bible and prayed some more. It’s amazing what can happen when you let go of everything and hand it over to God. I experienced a sense of relief. I realized that this was all part of God’s plan. He had been in control the whole time – even when I felt like I was spinning out of control. I finally had a complete understanding of Luke 22:42 – ‘Not my will, but Yours, be done.’
I’ve spent so much time trying to plan out everything in my life that I forgot that I wasn’t the one in control. He is. And through His grace and mercy, I know that everything will be ok.
I also need to mention that I've had amazing support from our friends and family. They have been there to listen to me cry and complain, and then remind me that I would get through this. One friend in particular who has been through this herself was a life saver. Thank you sweet friend for your prayers, your support, and your comforting words in a time when not much seemed to make sense.
