heartache

I don't know how to begin this.  Or make sense of all of the millions of emotions I am feeling right at this moment.  However, I've got to explain this at some point, and I feel like now is as good a time as any.  Yesterday, August 29, at 3:39 pm I found out that we lost our sweet little baby at 12 weeks.  It is difficult to describe the pain I feel.  But last night, as I was listening to a song by Hilary Weeks (with tears streaming down my face) I wrote down my thoughts:

August 29, 2012

My heart is broken today and the tears won't stop flowing.  We lost our sweet baby today at 12 weeks and no words seem adequate.  It is a difficult thing to cope with and the only things getting me through it are my Heavenly Father, Danny, and our two sweet children.  I was just reading an article on lds.org about dealing with a miscarriage and one lady wrote, "It's hard to say goodbye when you never had the chance to say hello."  How true that is.  My heart aches that I won't be able to gaze into those precious innocent eyes and stroke those velvety cheeks.  Those tiny fingers won't curl around mine and I won't be able to hear that sweet small cry.  This is something that I knew would most likely happen at some point, but I hoped it never would and I feel so unprepared.  I was caught way off guard and I definitely didn't see it coming.

Everything has gone so smoothly.  I had very little morning sickness (which, looking back is maybe an indicator that something wasn't right...) but I was very tired.  I felt like the baby was doing well and my body seemed to be adapting just fine.  I had an appointment with my doctor two weeks ago to check my thyroid (which I also have problems with) and I mentioned that I was about 10 weeks along.  He got so excited to hear the heartbeat that he pulled out the doppler and heard it for a few seconds.  He reminded me that the baby was still really small and we'd be able to hear it better at my first OB appointment in two weeks.

That appointment was yesterday and everything seemed great.  I went through a long list of routine questions with the nurse, "Have you ever had a miscarriage before?  Have you had spotting or bleeding? Etc..."  My answer was no both times.  I went to the bathroom to do the standard pee-in-a-cup test and I remember looking at myself while I was washing my hands and feeling so happy.  This was really happening.  In March I'd be back at the hospital with a brand new baby to bring home.  I went back to the room where they did a pap smear and then on to the "fun part"--listening to the baby's heart beat.  He put the jelly on and we all listened closely.  Nothing.  Just lots of static and the thump of my own heart.  Minutes later, still nothing and I could feel my heart start to beat faster.  This isn't happening, I thought, not to me.  I instantly remembered back to my first pregnancy when this exact thing happened with Max.  They took us back to the ultrasound room and there was Max up on the screen, his heart beating steadily away.  I told my doctor that this wasn't uncommon for me and he thought maybe I wasn't as far along as I had thought.  Just to be safe, he'd order an ultrasound for the next day.  I went home a little worried, but not really.  It'd all work out.

Then last night as I was lying in bed I had this fear come over me that the baby wasn't going to make it.  The tears started flowing and Danny gently kissed my forehead.  I silently prayed that everything would be ok.  I can't handle this right now, I thought.

I woke up feeling refreshed and not worried at all.  By midmorning I got hit with an extreme wave of fatigue and I could hardly keep my eyes open but I figured it was just pregnancy symptoms.  The kids and I went to the park and after that I felt much better.  Danny got home to watch the kids (we couldn't find a babysitter) and I hopped in the car, blowing him a kiss as I pulled out of the driveway.  My appointment was at 3 and I was hoping to make it back for the Young Women boating activity at 4.  Danny had the radio set to K.Love which normally I would have changed right away but today I left it on, a good song was playing about having faith in Christ.  I prayed I would have faith no matter what happened.

I got called back fairly quickly and the nurse tried doing a normal ultrasound but realized it wouldn't work so I got changed for a vaginal ultrasound.  Things seemed to be going ok until she got to the baby.  There it was!  I could see it.  But it wasn't moving and when she checked what I thought was the heartbeat I heard nothing and just saw a bunch of straight lines running across the screen.  She quickly clicked out, started checking a few other things and a few minutes later had me change so she could take the results to the radiologist.  It was in the bathroom that I lost it.  She hadn't said anything but she didn't have to.  I already knew.  I text Danny, "I wish you were here..." and he asked how things were going, did I know anything yet?  I responded with "I don't know anything for sure.  It's not looking good though."  Shortly after, the nurse came back to tell me that Dr. Oveson was expecting me.  As I headed out the door she said, "Good luck."

I was shown to a room way at the back of the office and as soon as Dr. Oveson stepped in I broke down.  He handed me a tissue and got one for himself which didn't make things easier.  He talked about this being pretty common, but still hard to deal with and then covered the different options I had. Unless I "deliver" on my own, I'm scheduled to have the surgery Tuesday morning.

Max and Avery seemed extra angelic when I got home and Danny gave me the biggest hug--he felt so bad he wasn't able to be there with me.  I don't think the kids have ever really seen us cry so while Danny was hugging me they were both right there, silently watching us.  They both gave me hugs and kisses after which definitely lifted my spirits.

Talking to them, I explained that the baby in Mommy's tummy went back to live with Heavenly Father. He looked puzzled for a minute and then asked, "What about Tim's baby?"  Such a sweet boy.  Danny also told me that once he got the final text from me he was kneeling by the side of Max's bed.  Danny started crying and Max randomly spoke up, pointing to the picture of the Temple on his wall, "Daddy, Temple!"  Talk about tender mercies of the Lord.  Go to the Temple and be reminded of this eternal plan of happiness.

It has been a rough 24 hours to say the least, but I already feel so much love and support.  We really are all in this together.  How grateful I am to be apart of the Lord's church and to have a husband who can give me blessings of comfort when I so desperately need just that.