Saying goodbye too soon

Well, since I can't seem to make myself journal anymore, I thought maybe creating a blog might be a better option to help motivate me to write down my thoughts. I know I need to do this, as there is a lot going on in my life right now that taken at face value could cause me to buckle and collapse under the strain and difficulty of it all. As it is, things are very hard at the moment and I think I need to just sort through some of it.

Today I went in for a D&C surgery to remove the baby we had planned to meet in June. Phil and I disovered I was pregnant (miraculously) after a year of trying unsuccessfully, back in late October. It was a rollercoaster ride from day one, with my old OBGYN telling me they predicted I was going to miscarry at about 6 weeks, due to some spotting and the fact that they could not identify a fetal heartbeat at that point. Of course, it turned out that they were really predicting I was further along than I really was, so realistically we should NOT have been able to see the hearbeat yet anyway. Still, I went that entire week basically waiting for my body to miscarry and it was awful.

In the meantime, I continued to have my HCG levels drawn, and while they did not double as they generally say they should, they DID continue to rise. After about a week of that, my new office asked me to come in for another ultrasound to confirm if or not the pregnancy was viable. Well, lo and behold, that day Phil and I DID see a little heartbeat, and it was amazingly beautiful. What an unbelievable gift. We quickly changed our mindset from one of fear and worry to one of excitement and gratitude. I truly felt God was giving us a gift in that child, and I believed he was giving me a peace that meant to let go and just TRUST him, which I decided to go ahead and do. I let go. I replaced my fear and doubts with absolute awe in the idea that God was giving us this life to cherish, and that come June 30th, we were going to meet this beautiful baby in person. I praised God every day for this miracle of life. I still praise him for giving us those 10 weeks together, even though that is all the further we will ever go as mother and child now.

Meanwhile, from about 6 weeks to almost 9 weeks, I experienced rather severe nausea and near-violent food aversions; I took this as a great sign that things were progressing normally and was actually comforted by the discomfort, if you can imagine such a thing. I grew more confident by the day, as I remember reading that after the 10 week mark, one's chances of miscarrying dropped to a mere 1%. I thought we were nearly in the clear, but then, I soon learned I was sadly mistaken.

Yesterday, Monday, December 6th, I went in to the Dr. concerning two things: 1) the fact that they had asked me to start on progesterone the previous Friday, at over 10 weeks pregnant;, and 2) that my nausea had all but completely disappeared some three days or so before as well. Both things were making me very nervous and I figured if I pleaded my case enough, maybe, just MAYBE they would let me get another ultrasound so I could be completely reassured that all was well. And I truly believed that all was well, despite my concerns. We had even planned to make our pregnancy public this upcoming weekend, at my graduation party where many of our friends would be in attendance. Unfortunately, I was very wrong. The ultrasound showed NO heartbeat, and the technician told me it also showed that the baby was only measuring 9 weeks 1 day, not the 10 weeks 4 days we should have been seeing. I literally could not believe what she was saying. I remember thinking, "She's wrong, it will show up any second now." Only it didn't. It didn't show up. I just stared and stared at my still little baby on that monitor and eventually said goodbye. I knew it was the last time I'd be seeing it, and that was incredibly difficult. It looked SO much like a fully-formed little baby. That's the hardest part. It was no longer even reptilian; it was a sweet little body with a head and tiny limbs. It was the baby I planned to welcome into the world next summer.

At some point, I left the ultrasound room and went back to talk with the nurse. I decided to do the D&C today, the next day, because I could not handle sitting around and waiting for this baby to pass itself, especially considering how my body had thus far given me NO indication of a problem. I had no spotting, no bleeding, no cramping, nothing. This was not the typical miscarriage experience I had always expected to encounter in this situation. My body, instead, did not seem to recognize the loss, and had just continued on as if all was well. I could have gone 3 more weeks until my next scheduled appointment, had I not decided to come in for "reassurance".  Anyway,  I just couldn't handle waiting for my body, which I felt had already betrayed me, to start and finish this process on its own, and I also did not want to see the fetus should that happen. So instead, the D&C was today, and Phil and I were at at the hospital from 10 am until after 4 pm. The procedure went fine and we are now at home. I am having quite a bit of bleeding, but that is to be expected.

Mostly, I feel numb and like none of this is really happening. I prefer and welcome this numb sensation, b/c the alternative involves me crying uncontrollably and delving into incredibly dark thoughts from which I can't seem to find any easy way out. There are no answers to my questions, and there certainly is no salve that will make this deep wound heal more quickly. So I'll choose numb,  and I'll embrace it for as long as it lasts.

Still, when I am in this numb state, it feels like something is perhaps wrong with me. Why don't I feel more sadness? Why do I feel so hopeful that we will get pregnant again and that MAYBE that time things will go perfectly? Why do I feel that I never fully bonded with this baby, despite my feelings (that apparently I created in my mind and were NOT, in fact, direct messages from God) that everything was going to work out just fine? I do feel eager to try again. I do feel encouraged that I CAN get pregnant, b/c for that entire long year, I had convinced myself that it might never happen. I do so want to one day, hopefully in the not too far off future, gaze at the new eyes of our, beautiful, healthy, very own baby. I want to believe this will happen. I want to believe that if God can choose a 17 year old girl who never even WANTED a baby, to be a mother, well, then, he certainly must be able to choose someone like me, who wants nothing MORE than to raise a child for Him, to his glory, in His name. I have to believe this, because if I don't, it means my faith has vanished. And my faith, in all honesty, is not the strongest of faiths out there. I already struggle with doubts and questions. Then, in moments of total adversity, I find I can't let go of God, and so I think, he MUST be there. He must have me in his hands if even when things are at their worst, I can not turn my back on him. I choose to believe he has a plan for me, and that this plan will be good. It will be right and it will be in the right time. I choose to believe this, rather than just getting angry at God. It feels better anyway. Emmanuel, God is with us. He has our baby in his presence and I believe that someday we will get to meet him or her. It was not our time to raise this baby and so God has taken it away. I accept this and know that it was for the best. He can work all things for good.

So for today, I am ok. I am writing. I am releasing my thoughts to the cyberworld where maybe nobody will even read them, but that might be for the best. I am writing for therapy, to release the pain and the pent up hurt and confusion. Here are my thoughts God. Here are my desires and dreams. Here I am Lord. Pick me. Please, one day, pick me.

As always, here is the song that brings me so much comfort when times are hard:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w-F6DGGF4Qs