Missing My Angel

Seven years ago, about this time, we were driving to our OB's office with our baby boy cozily snuggled in his car seat in the back.  My husband and I were silent, a rock in both of our stomachs, preparing for what we feared the most:  that we had lost the baby I was carrying.

I so vividly remember nearly every moment of those few days.  We were watching American Idol when I felt something strange.  I went to the bathroom to find I was spotting.  My heart immediately sunk.  At that moment I just knew our baby was gone.  I called my OB and she tried to reassure me this didn't necessarily mean anything, but we should come in the next day to see what was going on.

After a restless night of sleep, we took that drive.  I sat in the waiting room hypersensitive to the other pregnant mother trying to distract myself by snuggling with my baby boy. Thankfully it didn't take long to be called into the ultrasound room.  We nervously took the short walk and I tried to mentally prepare myself for the news.

This ultrasound was so much different than the ones I had before.  The large screen was turned off and the monitor was turned away from us.  She didn't cheerfully show us our baby and point to all of their body parts or the beating heart.  There was no beating heart.  Instead, she quickly turned off the machine and directed us to a room down the hall.

It was in that corner room where our doctor confirmed what we already knew.  Our baby was gone. The doctor who we saw that day had delivered our son almost one year from that day.  I remember thinking, "Wow, he has seen us through the circle of life."  With an encouraging smile and a hug we were sent on our way.  The tears didn't come at the doctor's office.  We packed up our son and quietly headed out to our car.

I am not sure if it was shock or denial, but it took a few minutes for those tears to come.  We tried to be brave.  Tried to convince ourselves it was just not in God's plan and it happens to many other people, but once we had to pick up the phone and call our parents the true sadness engulfed us both. The tears finally came and it took days for me to turn them off.

We had made the decision to let nature take its course and hopefully miscarry at home rather than have a surgical procedure.  In the wee hours of the morning nearly two days later it did.  I was not expecting the physical pain to be so intense.  I silently sat through those hours with tears streaming down my face willing for it all to be over.  Once it was, the relief I expected didn't come.  Instead it was just complete and utter sadness.

My mother-in-law had come to help care for our son.  I spent several days lying in bed crying and resting.  I was angry with God and wondered why we had to endure this pain.  I was so very sad and felt so very alone.  It was a very dark time and took a long while before I could see the light again.

That light came 6 months later when we learned we were pregnant again.  It happened to be about a week before our angel baby was due.  It was a bittersweet moment.  I was so happy to finally be pregnant again, but so sad for the baby we had lost.  Getting through the due date was so very hard, but once it passed I was able to nervously embrace my pregnancy.

Thankfully our sweet little girl was born healthy on Easter Sunday.  Looking back I find this day of her birth to be of great significance.  Easter Sunday, when Jesus rose from the dead.  A day filled with hope and promise.  A day darkness turned to light.  For us, the light shone so much brighter that day and continues to today.

On that day we lost our baby, but we gained a guardian angel.  I think of that baby often and still struggle through this time of year several years later.  I was nearly twelve weeks into my pregnancy, that so-called "safe zone," when we found out our baby was gone.  For almost two months we were able to rejoice in new life and love our little angel.  While I cannot physically hold and love that baby, in my heart I do each day.

So many people experience the sadness and grief of miscarriages each day.  Losing a child is so very, very hard.  One may think since we were never physically able to hold our child it might be easier, but it is not.  The hope and promise of new life began the day we found out we were pregnant and so did the love we felt for him or her.

Today I will hold my kids a little tighter and thank God for the four blessings he has given us on Earth.  I will thank Him for blessing us with our little angel we affectionately named Peanut the day we found out I was pregnant.  Today I will cry and grieve for the baby we never met, but I know someday I will meet our angel.  Until then I will carry him or her in my heart each day.

    

Life After a Loss

I am having a hard time keeping up with the blog these days!  We have been dealing with a lot of illness and I, quite frankly, am exhausted.  Sleep is not easy to come by these days and I am praying that I do not become the next victim of the strep throat bug that is making its way around the house.  I have to get ready for the big birthday party this weekend and then turn right around and get organized for our vacation.  I am looking forward to warmer weather and few extra sets of hands for a week!  Maybe, just maybe, the kids will be so worn out from running around outside that they'll sleep well (fingers crossed!).

The end of last week marked the five year anniversary of when we found out we had lost our second baby.  I got pregnant when our oldest son was nine months old and had an uncomplicated pregnancy up to that point.  A few days before our twelve week appointment, I began spotting and knew something was wrong.  I can recall the night it happened.  We were watching American Idol on a Wednesday night and my husband was preparing to fly out of town at the end of the week for a job interview.  We called the doctor, were told to come in the next morning, and an ultrasound confirmed what I already knew.  Our little Peanut was gone.

When we first found out, I think I just shut off my emotions.  I don't recall crying at the doctor's office and maybe not even on the long drive home.  They gave me the option to have a procedure or wait it out.  We opted to wait it out for a few days to see if nature would take it's course.  The next day, things began to happen, and in the wee hours of the night our little one was "born."  I know that sounds like a strange term to use, but to me that's what happened.  It was awfully painful and then it was over.  God graced us with a snowstorm and delayed my husband's flight, so I at least got to see him once it was over.

I recall the next few days being terribly painful physically and emotionally.  My mother-in-law came out to help with our little guy and I rested in bed for a few days.  I was still nursing and remember crying each time I would feed him, both for the baby we would never know and the sweet little boy we were lucky to have.  Those next few months were terribly difficult and a lot of tears were shed.  I thought for sure we would get pregnant again right away, but my levels took forever to drop off and it took longer than I had anticipated.  After five months of not-so-patiently waiting, we were blessed with positive pregnancy test, and our little Princess began growing away.

Needless to say, we've been very blessed since then with our Princess, the little guy and the baby on the way.  Having a miscarriage is a very painful and difficult time for both the mother and the father, though I feel  the mother struggles more.  Naturally you look to yourself and try to think if there's anything you could have possibly done to harm your child.  It's very sad when you realize that you are no longer growing a little one inside.  If you are like us, you had shared the news with everyone never thinking that anything could go wrong, and then you have to break the bad news.  It's a very hard thing to do and seems to make many people very uncomfortable.    

But then something happens.  Once you become a member of the miscarriage "club," people begin to open up about their own experiences.  You soon realize that there seem to be more people who have had a miscarriage than haven't.  It was my experience that many people who shared their own experience with me seemed to have lost their second pregnancy.  As odd as it sounds, it was quite comforting to know that I wasn't alone and see that most of these women had gone on to have successful pregnancies.

For me, healing took a long time.  I continued to think in terms of how many weeks I should have been all the way up to the due date.  I then moved onto how many weeks or months old the baby would be.  Over time, the raw pain subsided, but the thoughts of our Peanut have never gone away.  I like to think that the grandparents we had lost wanted a baby of their own to love.  It brings me some comfort and I hope that it's true.

Miscarriages happen.  As our wonderful doctor explained to us then, having a healthy baby truly is a miracle.  There are so many things that have to line up just perfectly for that baby to make it here safely.  When you have a big family, like ours, I suppose it's bound to happen.  It doesn't change the fact, though, that it is a terribly painful time in one's life.  I am happy to say, that with time the pain has softened and I finally feel like I am at peace with it all.  I do not shy away from talking about it, because I think it's healthy not to.  I want to acknowledge that he or she existed, if only for a few months.  So, here's to our little Peanut!  I hope you're having fun up there with your great-grandparents!