(Background - the retreat took place at Bergamo Center near Beavercreek. On Saturday we spend 6 hours in silence, seeking God. I decided God and I needed to have a long discussion about the pregnancy and miscarriage during this time period. The following is what I entered in my journal at the end of the 6 hours.)
There is no answer to why a miscarriage happens. I've stopped asking because I won't hear what I want to hear anyway. There are no promises or guarantees that we'll have a healthy baby. There's also no way to know if we'll end up going through this pain again.
To keep trying is to risk. When I think of "risk" I think of the phrase: "there is no love without risk." So many have been hurt so deeply that we question whether we ever want to love again. I have. And yet I kept trying and one day the risk was worth it. To find someone who loves you like you want to be loved is an amazing reward for taking the risk over and over. I know this and yet when it comes to a child, I'm suddenly afraid to try again and end up feeling the loss again.
While you're trying to get pregnant it can be frustrating looking around at all those women with children. Including the ones who make the news who don't deserve children. It seems everyone has had kids - except you.
You go through doubts - wondering if it's your fault. If God doesn't think you're good enough. That you're either being punished by not getting pregnant or that God is waiting for you to get your life together before blessing you with kids. But if you're lucky you have a good friend who points out how ridiculous this is. (See reference above of mothers who make the news.)
Then you have a miscarriage (or three) and you hear all the stories of friends who have gone through it too. So many of them, and they all have kids now. I've heard that 1 in 4 women have had a miscarriage. But I think that 1 in 4 women have had no problems getting pregnant and staying pregnant. The others have gone to fertility specialists, tried for over a year, and often used ovulation prediction methods. Others have spent thousands of dollars on the hope of getting pregnant, and still others have had to endure daily (or twice daily) shots to have a baby.
I absolutely hate the song "Only Women Bleed" (which is about domestic abuse). But the person who wrote it seemed to understand how different women are from men. When it comes to pregnancy, there can be so much sadness associated with starting or spotting. And this is something that only the hopeful mother goes through. The hopeful dad has to be told.
So how am I doing now? I'm making peace with the situation. At first I was angry at God for letting me go through this. But then after I let go of the disappointment and anger I realized that God had set up a safety net for me to land into. He knew from the beginning that this would happen and set so many little things in motion that while I was going through so much pain (emotional and then physical), that I had a safe landing where I would be held onto until it was over.
One of the safety nets was the Beth Moore class I took, Living Beyond Yourself, which is a study of the fruit of the Spirit. (That being love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control.) Beth Moore went into great detail about the Greek roots and how the Bible uses these words. When it came to faith I questioned what would happen to my faith if we lost the baby. I decided then that God has not changed, He still loves me more than I'll ever understand. He still wants to protect me and provide so many blessings for me. That if God brings me through a situation, there's something better waiting for me at the end. I decided this is how I believed and that if anything happened to the baby, that I would hold onto my faith.
And then it happened, the unimaginable. And suddenly I wasn't sure if my faith would make it. The facts were running around in my head, but my heart was numb. The lesson we had just gone over was about submitting to God. I wasn't sure how to do this, mostly because I was bitter and didn't want to let go. It was the movie "Bruce Almighty" that finally caught my attention. (See previous blog.) When you're at the end and your so broken and your emotions are so raw, all you can do is surrender and say "God, I want what you want. Your ways are better than my ways. You allowed this to happen and I will trust you that I'll be okay."
What really hit home during the retreat was that we were singing my favorite songs, the ones that made me so grateful for Jesus dying on the cross to save a wretch like me, the songs that normally gave me so much hope and joy. And the hope and joy came back as I was singing the songs. And when I realized what I was feeling I just started crying. After all I had been through I still could trust God and see goodness in what He was doing in my life. I could still praise Him and thank Him. My faith was still in tact.
That, my friends, is a miracle.
That's the end of the wrap-up. Other wonderful things happened that weekend including a beautiful nature walk, laughing with old and new friends (that would be length of friendship, not age), and really appreciating all the loving and encouraging family & friends in my life. (This includes all of you wonderful people who have been part of my safety net the last few weeks.)
To answer some questions that people keep asking... The actual miscarriage happened 6 days after we found out that had lost the baby. (If you're ever going to go through this, contact me, you seriously need to be forewarned.) We get to start trying again (to get pregnant) in the next 4-6 weeks. I have to start the heparin shots as soon as we get a positive pregnancy test. (We're tempted to start sooner though.) And I've been instructed to take the baby aspirin every day for the rest of my life. And next time we get pregnant, I don't think we're going to tell anyone until the child is 2 years old. Just kidding, probably around 3-4 months is when we'll start telling people.
I have other thoughts running around my head, but this will do for now. I promise my future posts will hopefully be a lot more light-hearted.
Thank you God for getting me through this. Thank you for the safety net you started to lay in place months before this all happened. Thank you for all the old friends who have been through this and are encouraging me to keep trying. (Their beautiful children are encouragement enough.) And thank you for all the new friends that you put into my life during this time to help me get through. Thank you God for allowing me to feel love, and peace, and happiness after experiencing such loss. Thank you for holding me together and keeping my life from spinning out of control. Thank you for the constant reminder that you love me so much and that you're looking out for me. I'm holding you to your promises and believing you'll deliver.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Sunday, April 4, 2010
loss and recovery
I guess this is part 2 to yesterday's blog.
Last night my Ob/gyn (Dr. Guy) called me to see how I was doing. He had not seen the ultrasound pictures yet, but he had talked to the doctor that I talked to. He said that I had a blighted ovum, which is basically placenta with no baby. This is information from http://www.americanpregnancy.org/pregnancycomplications/blightedovum.html:
We talked a bit about what to do next. He suggested we do some genetic testing to see if we can find out why this keeps happening. He also told me what to expect in the next week or two, which helped.
So this *isn't* like the miscarriage 9 years ago. Nine years ago there was a baby on the ultrasound. Jason and I talked and all we saw was a black spot, there was no baby inside. By the way, saying there was never a baby is incorrect. We had a baby for a few weeks, and must have lost it around 4-5 weeks pregnant. However, with a blighted ovum, your body still thinks it's pregnant and you don't find out you've lost the baby until the ultrasound. Which is what happened to us.
We're thinking that we didn't start the heparin shots early enough and probably lost the baby around the time I started the heparin shots. This is making us think that if we start the heparin shots as soon as I'm ovulating, then maybe next time I'll be able to carry the baby the full time. (Misty, thank you for sharing your experience with me. If you can do it twice - from conception to labor - I'll make it.) I plan on discussing this with the doctor next week, along with how soon we can start trying again. From what I read it'll be a couple of months.
Emotionally I'm okay but once in awhile the sadness hits and I cry again. Bruce Almighty is currently on the TV and there's a part where Jim Carey's character yells "God you suck!" I started crying. What's going on right now sucks, God doesn't suck. But there's a part of me that still is asking God why he let this happen. I trust that there is better yet to come, and that in a year or maybe 5 years this will make a little more sense.
I've never been one who felt like everything had a purpose. I realize that God can turn bad situations into something good, but I've never been convinced that there's a purpose behind everything that happens. However, suddenly I am trusting that there is a purpose behind what Jason and I are going through right now. (Two miscarriages in two months.) Maybe there's a genetic problem that can be avoided now. Maybe I have a medical issue that would go undiagnosed without these problems. I just don't know, and probably won't for some time. But right now it feels better to think that there IS a purpose behind bad things that happen.
By the way, I did go to the Easter Egg Hunt this morning as Cupcake the clown. I wasn't as together as I would have liked to have been, but I made it. I had a lot of friends hug me and thankfully nothing else had to be said. I enjoyed the children's smiles and a few that weren't sure what to think of my clown face and outfit. I walked past a baby who looked at me and started laughing. This absolutely thrilled my heart and I kept making faces at him. (Of course then the dad said he smiles at everyone. I told him that wasn't helping my ego. Ha.)
I did pretty good around all those families and kids, but I was pretty emotionally wiped out when it was over. I had a wonderful nap on the couch this afternoon with the windows open and the breeze blowing through the house. Life seems to be back to normal, but my heart is still heavy. I keep wondering when it'll be our turn. How many more times will we have to go through this. (Oddly enough I think of Celine Dion who is 42 and is on her 6th in-vitro procedure hoping to have a 2nd baby. Her strength is amazing, especially with her life being so public.)
Please continue to pray for us. Also, please pray that the actual miscarriage happens soon so I won't have to have surgery next week. I'm hoping my next blog post will be a bit happier - sorry to keep posting such serious and personal stuff. I guess it's what's on my heart and typing helps gets things straight in my head. So thanks for listening/reading.
Last night my Ob/gyn (Dr. Guy) called me to see how I was doing. He had not seen the ultrasound pictures yet, but he had talked to the doctor that I talked to. He said that I had a blighted ovum, which is basically placenta with no baby. This is information from http://www.americanpregnancy.org/pregnancycomplications/blightedovum.html:
A blighted ovum (also known as “anembryonic pregnancy”) happens when a fertilized egg attaches itself to the uterine wall, but the embryo does not develop. Cells develop to form the pregnancy sac, but not the embryo itself. A blighted ovum usually occurs within the first trimester before a woman knows she is pregnant. A high level of chromosome abnormalities usually causes a woman’s body to naturally miscarry.I did a bit more searching and I guess this is more common in "older" moms. Dr. Guy also said that due to my age, I'm more likely to miscarry. (He gave me a bunch of statistics, which helps.)
We talked a bit about what to do next. He suggested we do some genetic testing to see if we can find out why this keeps happening. He also told me what to expect in the next week or two, which helped.
So this *isn't* like the miscarriage 9 years ago. Nine years ago there was a baby on the ultrasound. Jason and I talked and all we saw was a black spot, there was no baby inside. By the way, saying there was never a baby is incorrect. We had a baby for a few weeks, and must have lost it around 4-5 weeks pregnant. However, with a blighted ovum, your body still thinks it's pregnant and you don't find out you've lost the baby until the ultrasound. Which is what happened to us.
We're thinking that we didn't start the heparin shots early enough and probably lost the baby around the time I started the heparin shots. This is making us think that if we start the heparin shots as soon as I'm ovulating, then maybe next time I'll be able to carry the baby the full time. (Misty, thank you for sharing your experience with me. If you can do it twice - from conception to labor - I'll make it.) I plan on discussing this with the doctor next week, along with how soon we can start trying again. From what I read it'll be a couple of months.
Emotionally I'm okay but once in awhile the sadness hits and I cry again. Bruce Almighty is currently on the TV and there's a part where Jim Carey's character yells "God you suck!" I started crying. What's going on right now sucks, God doesn't suck. But there's a part of me that still is asking God why he let this happen. I trust that there is better yet to come, and that in a year or maybe 5 years this will make a little more sense.
I've never been one who felt like everything had a purpose. I realize that God can turn bad situations into something good, but I've never been convinced that there's a purpose behind everything that happens. However, suddenly I am trusting that there is a purpose behind what Jason and I are going through right now. (Two miscarriages in two months.) Maybe there's a genetic problem that can be avoided now. Maybe I have a medical issue that would go undiagnosed without these problems. I just don't know, and probably won't for some time. But right now it feels better to think that there IS a purpose behind bad things that happen.
By the way, I did go to the Easter Egg Hunt this morning as Cupcake the clown. I wasn't as together as I would have liked to have been, but I made it. I had a lot of friends hug me and thankfully nothing else had to be said. I enjoyed the children's smiles and a few that weren't sure what to think of my clown face and outfit. I walked past a baby who looked at me and started laughing. This absolutely thrilled my heart and I kept making faces at him. (Of course then the dad said he smiles at everyone. I told him that wasn't helping my ego. Ha.)
I did pretty good around all those families and kids, but I was pretty emotionally wiped out when it was over. I had a wonderful nap on the couch this afternoon with the windows open and the breeze blowing through the house. Life seems to be back to normal, but my heart is still heavy. I keep wondering when it'll be our turn. How many more times will we have to go through this. (Oddly enough I think of Celine Dion who is 42 and is on her 6th in-vitro procedure hoping to have a 2nd baby. Her strength is amazing, especially with her life being so public.)
Please continue to pray for us. Also, please pray that the actual miscarriage happens soon so I won't have to have surgery next week. I'm hoping my next blog post will be a bit happier - sorry to keep posting such serious and personal stuff. I guess it's what's on my heart and typing helps gets things straight in my head. So thanks for listening/reading.
Friday, April 2, 2010
loss
I'm blogging this because I don't want to have to keep telling this story over and over. However, the more people who know, the less of a chance of someone saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.
About 5 weeks ago we found out we were pregnant. We've gone through a miscarriage before, so we were hesitant to get excited about it. However, as time went on we got more hopeful. What also helped was that they found out I had antiphospholipids syndrome. This means I have antibodies that fight off the embryo. So about a month ago I started getting twice daily injections of heparin. (Jason gave these to me.)
I followed all the rules and had quite a few symptoms of pregnancy - morning sickness, being over emotional and all the fun pains that come and go. So we were confident that this baby was going to make it.
This morning we got our first ultrasound and that's when we got the bad news. At 9 weeks there was no heartbeat and it looked like the baby hadn't developed past 7 weeks. I asked "the baby is dead?" And the doctor said yes. My doctor wasn't in, but they said that they would be in contact with me.
What is most devastating is that I went through this exact scenario 9 years ago when I was previously married. At 11 weeks I got my first ultrasound and was told there was no heartbeat. I then waited over a week to miscarry and when this didn't happen, I had a D&C. This severely messed me up for a long time.
First, I was trying to function knowing that I was still technically pregnant, but that the baby was dead. When I was about to go mad (literally), I called the doctor and asked him to do whatever it took but I couldn't keep going on like I had. That's when they scheduled the D&C.
Second, I had two Christian friends tell me (separately) not to get the D&C because technically it's an abortion. They tried to convince me that God could still raise the baby from the dead and having the D&C was going against God's will. Their reasoning was that if God wanted me to get rid of the baby, then it would have happened naturally. (Neither of these women are in my life anymore.)
Third, while I was at the hospital for the D&C a nurse tried to talk me out of it. I guess she hadn't seen my chart. She asked if I was sure I wanted to have this procedures. I looked her straight in the eye and said "the baby is already dead." She left me alone after this. (If looks could kill.)
Then there was the recuperation after the surgery. I couldn't hardly function and ended up going into a depression. At the time I worked with wonderful understanding people (the Vineyard - my church) and they really helped with my healing. But I struggled with getting out of bed in the morning and ended up leaving that job to go to school full time. (Skipping classes was easier than skipping work.)
I remember one of our pastors, Scott Sliver, looking at me several weeks after the miscarriage and pointing out that he finally saw me smile for the first time since losing the baby. I just wasn't myself for a long time. A few of you knew me back then and probably remember all this.
And here I'm dealing with it. Again. I hate to say it but I don't feel so devastated this time around. Jason said I'm a stronger person, my faith is stronger too. Maybe I'm just numb and I've been through this so many times that I don't really care any more.
However I will say that I have fear. Fear of ending up non-functional again. Fear of going through depression again. Fear of so much crap that happened in my life 9 years ago happening again. I have a great job at a very wonderful law firm, but I have so many responsibilities. If I can't keep it together I won't have my job for long.
Not to mention that I'm supposed to travel to Cincinnati next week for work and if I have to have any surgery done, this is going to mess up my project. (I'm the only one in my law firm that does what I do.) Yes, they'll cope, but I might not be seen as valuable as I once was there.
Also, it's Easter weekend. How appropriate that I'm dealing with death on Good Friday. I've seen so many posts on facebook today about "it's Friday, but Sunday's coming." (It's a message that today might be your worst day ever, but there is so much hope that comes with the resurrection of Jesus.) I do believe "Sunday is coming" but I don't think I'll be okay by this Sunday. Do I go to church and fake it? Do I go and not fake it and cry the whole time? Do I just skip it because I don't want to be around people and have to tell them over and over that we lost the baby? I don't know and probably won't decide until Sunday morning. It's 2 days away and 2 days can sometimes be a long time.
Here's the crazy thing. Tomorrow is our church's HUGE Easter Egg Hunt. 15,000 eggs, and hundreds of children, it's so much fun. I've been planning since January to make my clowning debut there. I've been getting ready for months, and have my entire costume completely ready to go. I've been so excited about tomorrow's Easter Egg Hunt and now I don't think I can make it. And yet, I still really want to go.
Here's my thinking... I'll be in clown make-up, being someone other than myself. Only my friends who will be looking for me will recognize me, probably. I can pretend that life is fine, and I'm fine, and not focus on what happened today. But then I worry that I'll see all those happy families, all those children, maybe a few babies, and I'll just lose it. Tears are bad for clown makeup and what's worse than driving home after bawling your eyes out - driving home in a clown costume with clown makeup smeared all over your face. See, not quite sure if I'm up to it. Not sure I want to risk losing it on a day that is so happy for so many people.
But tomorrow is a day away and a lot can happen in a day. Maybe I'll feel a little more together in the morning. Maybe focusing on something other than the loss of a pregnancy would be good for me. Maybe having a real smile a day after such loss would be good for me. I guess I'll decide in the morning.
To my friends who have already contacted me, thank you for all your prayers and kind words. Thank your for your offers to talk or cry. I guess this is my way of "talking" it out. (Thank you for "listening.") I appreciate all your love and support. Feeling loved right now is a very good thing. Thank you.
This afternoon and tonight I'm going to balance the checkbook, clean and organize the living room (having some kind of control and order helps), and call my mom. If I can get through a phone call without completely breaking down, I think I'll be okay.
Oh, and I've already had a Diet Coke, some Advil, and I might even go running tomorrow. I miss running, especially when I have frustration to work out.
About 5 weeks ago we found out we were pregnant. We've gone through a miscarriage before, so we were hesitant to get excited about it. However, as time went on we got more hopeful. What also helped was that they found out I had antiphospholipids syndrome. This means I have antibodies that fight off the embryo. So about a month ago I started getting twice daily injections of heparin. (Jason gave these to me.)
I followed all the rules and had quite a few symptoms of pregnancy - morning sickness, being over emotional and all the fun pains that come and go. So we were confident that this baby was going to make it.
This morning we got our first ultrasound and that's when we got the bad news. At 9 weeks there was no heartbeat and it looked like the baby hadn't developed past 7 weeks. I asked "the baby is dead?" And the doctor said yes. My doctor wasn't in, but they said that they would be in contact with me.
What is most devastating is that I went through this exact scenario 9 years ago when I was previously married. At 11 weeks I got my first ultrasound and was told there was no heartbeat. I then waited over a week to miscarry and when this didn't happen, I had a D&C. This severely messed me up for a long time.
First, I was trying to function knowing that I was still technically pregnant, but that the baby was dead. When I was about to go mad (literally), I called the doctor and asked him to do whatever it took but I couldn't keep going on like I had. That's when they scheduled the D&C.
Second, I had two Christian friends tell me (separately) not to get the D&C because technically it's an abortion. They tried to convince me that God could still raise the baby from the dead and having the D&C was going against God's will. Their reasoning was that if God wanted me to get rid of the baby, then it would have happened naturally. (Neither of these women are in my life anymore.)
Third, while I was at the hospital for the D&C a nurse tried to talk me out of it. I guess she hadn't seen my chart. She asked if I was sure I wanted to have this procedures. I looked her straight in the eye and said "the baby is already dead." She left me alone after this. (If looks could kill.)
Then there was the recuperation after the surgery. I couldn't hardly function and ended up going into a depression. At the time I worked with wonderful understanding people (the Vineyard - my church) and they really helped with my healing. But I struggled with getting out of bed in the morning and ended up leaving that job to go to school full time. (Skipping classes was easier than skipping work.)
I remember one of our pastors, Scott Sliver, looking at me several weeks after the miscarriage and pointing out that he finally saw me smile for the first time since losing the baby. I just wasn't myself for a long time. A few of you knew me back then and probably remember all this.
And here I'm dealing with it. Again. I hate to say it but I don't feel so devastated this time around. Jason said I'm a stronger person, my faith is stronger too. Maybe I'm just numb and I've been through this so many times that I don't really care any more.
However I will say that I have fear. Fear of ending up non-functional again. Fear of going through depression again. Fear of so much crap that happened in my life 9 years ago happening again. I have a great job at a very wonderful law firm, but I have so many responsibilities. If I can't keep it together I won't have my job for long.
Not to mention that I'm supposed to travel to Cincinnati next week for work and if I have to have any surgery done, this is going to mess up my project. (I'm the only one in my law firm that does what I do.) Yes, they'll cope, but I might not be seen as valuable as I once was there.
Also, it's Easter weekend. How appropriate that I'm dealing with death on Good Friday. I've seen so many posts on facebook today about "it's Friday, but Sunday's coming." (It's a message that today might be your worst day ever, but there is so much hope that comes with the resurrection of Jesus.) I do believe "Sunday is coming" but I don't think I'll be okay by this Sunday. Do I go to church and fake it? Do I go and not fake it and cry the whole time? Do I just skip it because I don't want to be around people and have to tell them over and over that we lost the baby? I don't know and probably won't decide until Sunday morning. It's 2 days away and 2 days can sometimes be a long time.
Here's the crazy thing. Tomorrow is our church's HUGE Easter Egg Hunt. 15,000 eggs, and hundreds of children, it's so much fun. I've been planning since January to make my clowning debut there. I've been getting ready for months, and have my entire costume completely ready to go. I've been so excited about tomorrow's Easter Egg Hunt and now I don't think I can make it. And yet, I still really want to go.
Here's my thinking... I'll be in clown make-up, being someone other than myself. Only my friends who will be looking for me will recognize me, probably. I can pretend that life is fine, and I'm fine, and not focus on what happened today. But then I worry that I'll see all those happy families, all those children, maybe a few babies, and I'll just lose it. Tears are bad for clown makeup and what's worse than driving home after bawling your eyes out - driving home in a clown costume with clown makeup smeared all over your face. See, not quite sure if I'm up to it. Not sure I want to risk losing it on a day that is so happy for so many people.
But tomorrow is a day away and a lot can happen in a day. Maybe I'll feel a little more together in the morning. Maybe focusing on something other than the loss of a pregnancy would be good for me. Maybe having a real smile a day after such loss would be good for me. I guess I'll decide in the morning.
To my friends who have already contacted me, thank you for all your prayers and kind words. Thank your for your offers to talk or cry. I guess this is my way of "talking" it out. (Thank you for "listening.") I appreciate all your love and support. Feeling loved right now is a very good thing. Thank you.
This afternoon and tonight I'm going to balance the checkbook, clean and organize the living room (having some kind of control and order helps), and call my mom. If I can get through a phone call without completely breaking down, I think I'll be okay.
Oh, and I've already had a Diet Coke, some Advil, and I might even go running tomorrow. I miss running, especially when I have frustration to work out.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)