not just a miscarriage

Lately I find that I don't want to talk to anyone, be around anyone, or deal with anything.  I just want to be left alone to let time pass and hope that this will all go away.  I know, women have miscarriages all of the time.  A miscarriage isn't that big of a deal.  It's not.  This was not just a miscarriage.  I am angry about it, frustrated that it happened, hurt that we have to deal with yet another disappointment, but it doesn't even begin to compare with what we have already been through.  I don't feel the same loss, the same longing to hold my baby, the same anything that I felt after Miles.  It's not just the miscarriage that is making life so hard to deal with right now.  It's how it happened.  When it happened.  And all of the emotions that it brings back that I had tried to bury.  In my head 10-12 weeks was a milestone, after seeing a heartbeat and getting past that point, I felt like I was okay to breathe and relax until the 20 week ultrasound.  There were no signs, not a single thing felt out of place.  Going to that appointment was a slap in the face.  I had no reason to expect anything but a quick check and a healthy pregnancy.  Why couldn't it have been at 6 or 7 weeks like most miscarriages, or no heartbeat at the first visit, or some sort of signs before I walked into that office for my second visit, happy and excited to get a peek at my baby?  Why did I have to have hope first?  Why then?  I hadn't wanted to do it again.  I didn't want to go through another pregnancy, I wasn't sure I could.  But Miles' upcoming first birthday loomed ahead of me, and I couldn't face it.  I asked other angel moms how they dealt with that first major milestone.  All of them were pregnant by then, and although that day was of course hard, there is no replacing a child whom you have lost, there was still something to look forward to, something to get them through that hard day.  It made sense, and it seemed like my only hope.  We prayed, felt good about it, and decided to try.  I was convinced that I could do it just one more time.  When I found out I was pregnant, I quickly calculated how far along I would be by Miles' birthday.  20 1/2 weeks.  I would have the 20-week ultrasound out of the way, and be past a huge milestone.  As long as everything went well, that would help give me hope and ease the pain of reliving that day.  And so I focused on that to get me through.  I was sure that this was our rainbow, our joy after weathering the storm, there was no way that anything could go wrong.  It just couldn't. And now here we are.  Two pregnancies in the last year and no baby in our future.  My son's first birthday only a month away, and no hope of a new baby's arrival to get me through it.  I have seen it coming, dreaded it coming, and tried to find an escape for months.  That was my last hope, now I just have to be strong and face it, and I don't know how.  That is why, although I appreciate the women who have had miscarriages who have reached out and tried to relate, I know they can't.  I don't mean to offend anyone, I do recognize that their trials were hard for them, and I appreciate the efforts, but I don't want to talk about it, or hear your story, or dwell on it.  I write about it on my blog because I can write it out one time, be understood, and not have to keep talking about it.  It is what it is, and the reality is that I have to move on and deal with bigger things that I have tried to avoid.  It was not just a miscarriage.  It's just one more thing weighing on my heart and mind when I have had all that I can handle.  It's the dissolution of my last hope for joy during a trying time.  It's yet another reminder of all that we have lost, and how fragile life is.  It will all work out, and we will be okay.  I do have hope, I don't mean for this post to sound hopeless.  I have been honest about how I feel right now, but I won't be angry forever.  I know that.  I will heal and life will move on.  Time passing, prayer, and getting through the next month spending time alone with my little family will help.  Then just more time, but I am hopeful that this will pass, I have hope that the Lord will ease my pain and help me to be content with what I have and understand his plan for me.  I have three healthy children, and I don't for one minute take that for granted.  I am so grateful to be their mother, and for every minute that I spend with them.  I love them and am grateful for them, and I know this will all pass.  But for now, I just keep telling myself it will take time.

A Leap of Faith

Yesterday was yet another one of those days that life can't prepare you for.  After much deliberation and prayer, we decided several months ago that we would try to have another baby.  We put our trust in the Lord, held our breath, and decided to go on faith.  We got pregnant after a few months of trying, and were both nervous and excited for this opportunity for our family to grown and heal together.  We didn't tell anyone, not even our kids.  We wanted to wait until we were sure everything was okay before we put them through that again.  And so the first few weeks of first trimester misery went on as I waited for my first doctor's appointment.  I was so nervous and anxious, but that was all put at ease when I saw a little baby on that screen with a little flickering heartbeat in perfect rhythm.  I knew we were far from out of the woods, but I was relieved.  We decided to wait a little longer before sharing our exciting news.  Yesterday, at 12 1/2 weeks, I had my second doctor's appointment.  Nothing seemed out of place, and I was only slightly anxious to see the baby again, I was sure everything was fine.  I was tired and miserable, so everything seemed as it should be.  The moment I saw the baby on the screen I knew something was wrong.  There was the baby, but everything was too still, no wiggling, no flickering heartbeat.  I said nothing and stared at the screen as the doctor moved the ultrasound wand around quietly. In my head I was screaming 'WHY can't I see a heartbeat!?!  WHY aren't you saying anything?!?!  Something is wrong.  Something is wrong.'  I couldn't make the words come out, it was too impossible, not after everything we had already been through.  Not after the last several weeks of misery, I was almost done.  I was sure I was overreacting, I was missing something.  Then my doctor finally looked and me and said, "well, you are measuring a week and a half behind, the baby isn't moving, and there is no heartbeat.  I'm so sorry."  My mind was numb as we scheduled a D&C since my body didn't seem to recognize that it was no longer pregnant.  I know this is nothing compared to losing Miles, but it's yet another loss, another leap of faith, and another trial.  I go in this afternoon for the D&C.  I had Matt tell our kids last night so they wouldn't wonder what was going on.  Before he could finish his sentence, McKinley started excitedly chattering about finally having another baby, she was so excited, she said she needed to go write this in her journal.  Then Matt finished and explained what had happened.  They were okay about it, and asked good questions.  He explained that it's not like last time, and that we wouldn't have to do a funeral again (they were concerned about that).  They took it all fine, but it just breaks my heart to put them through yet another disappointment.  While I am angry that we have to go through yet another heartbreak, and I am searching for answers for all of this, I know that the Lord has a plan for our little family.  I am so grateful for our little family, and for the three little miracles that I get to spend each day with.  And I am grateful for the reminder, yet again, to hug them a little tighter.