Wow... almost nine months since we last updated the blog! So much has happened since then! The biggest thing that happened to us was our miscarriage in October. It has officially been three months since we found out we lost our sweet Baby A.
So even though our pregnancy ended short, I would like to share our Pregnancy/Miscarriage story with you. I realize that this may be a bit touchy or personal for some people. Miscarriage is something that happens a lot more often than you would think. However, it is
not a popular topic. People react differently to hardships. Some people decide to keep
it very personal. Others are a little more
open and willing to share about their experience. When I went through mine, I promised myself and God that I would use my
experience to be able to better reach out to someone going through similar circumstances and to help others
understand how to help as well. If I can help someone to feel a little less broken, misunderstood, or alone, I will do my best to do so. I believe that sharing my experience might do just that. People share stories about their birthing experience. Why not speak up about miscarriage?
From the very beginning, our pregnancy was a very spiritual experience. The decision to get pregnant was a very long process for us. We started praying about it about 5 months before we began trying. Reyes got his answer very quickly, but it took me months before I felt I had received my answer and was willing to listen to the answer God was giving me. Finally, we both felt spiritually ready and decided to start trying.
At 3 1/2 weeks, we finally got a positive!! The weeks following were incredibly happy.. sharing the news with our family and friends, our first doctor's appointment where we got a picture of the first ultrasound, talking about names, laughing about weird cravings I got, Reyes kissing my belly and whispering "I love you little baby! Goodnight!" each night, only dealing with mild nausea and migraines, and having an excuse to eat all the time. Each day we were getting more and more excited to be parents!
At about 9 weeks along, I felt different. I was no longer craving anything. No longer hungry all the time. No longer being nauseous or getting migraines. I was worried about the changes I was feeling. I was told that it was normal to stop being sick or tired by the time you got to the 2nd trimester. Still something felt... different but I decided to stay positive. I didn't say anything to anyone about my worries, not even Reyes, because I didn't want to jinx anything or scare anyone else.
At 10 weeks, I went to the General Relief Society Conference for our church. I prayed that I would receive answers to my questions and feel comfort. Throughout the evening, I felt repeatedly "Make the decision TODAY that no matter what happens in the next year, you will CHOOSE God. If you do, you will find happiness." I went home and shared my impressions with Reyes and made a personal commitment that we would accept God's will no matter what.
At 11 weeks, we had an appointment for a check up and to finally hear the heartbeat (Baby was too small at our first appointment to hear the heartbeat). As I sat on the table waiting, my heart was racing! I was so anxious! The doctor came in and decided she wanted to try hearing the heartbeat on the Doppler. She squeezed that warm gel on my belly and then searched for the heartbeat. Nothing. She kept searching, but still nothing. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears. She told us that it was normal to not always be able to find the heartbeat on the Doppler because sometimes the baby is still too small. So she left the room to see if the ultrasound tech was available to do an ultrasound for us. As she left, Reyes and I both looked at each other with teary eyes, but still clung onto the hope of hearing the heartbeat in the ultrasound.
In the ultrasound room, I once again lay on the table and waited. Our baby looked so cute! He/she had sprouted little nubby arms and legs. We could see the profile of the face. We admired our little baby in silence while the ultrasound tech took tons of pictures from different angles. The whole time the tech was silent, until she finished the pictures. Once she finished, she heavily sighed and said, "I have some really really bad news." She directed us to the screen and said, "This is where we should see the baby's heartbeat pulsing, but unfortunately there is nothing beating. You're supposed to be 11 weeks along, but Baby measures smaller. He or she stopped growing at 8 weeks." Tears welled up in my eyes as lay on the table in shock. My hand found Reyes' hand and I could feel him shaking. We tried hard to keep ourselves together while the doctor spoke to us. She explained that it wasn't my fault, something had just gone wrong. She described ways to carry out the miscarriage. We could let my body miscarry naturally, have surgery to "scrape everything out", or I could take pills to "force my body to contract to release everything". Each description seemed cruel and heartless. We chose to let my body miscarry naturally. It seemed the best way to let our baby leave this world gently and respectfully. I was determined that if my body could create and carry a baby, it could also miscarry on its own.
The next week unfolded slowly. You know in movies when the person is sadly wandering in slow motion through a crowd and everything is a blur? That's basically how it felt. Confused, heartbroken, blurry, lost. We faced the unbearable challenge of calling family and friends, crying literally day and night, waking up from nightmares, forgetting the responsibilities of work and school, trying to come up with any reason why this may have happened, and waiting painfully for my body to physically lose the baby. But then Reyes and I remembered the promptings I had received that night at the Relief Society General Conference meeting. I felt so incredibly blessed that I had attended that meeting and that God had taught me EXACTLY what I needed a week before I needed it most. I knew God was preparing us and watching over us. We had to stop asking why. Instead we needed to accept God's will for us. We had to choose God.
A few days later, we returned to the doctor for a checkup. I still had not miscarried the baby physically. The doctor was concerned and again told us about the other two options. Reyes and I made the decision that it was probably safest for me to have the baby and all other tissues removed surgically. The days leading up to the surgery were difficult. I had never had surgery before and I was scared. The doctor also warned us that as I came out of the anesthesia it was normal for me to have an extreme emotional reaction. But Reyes would not be allowed to see me until I was awake and completely stable. I was scared to death to be alone through all of this, waking up by myself knowing my baby was officially gone.
On the day of the surgery, each nurse and doctor was so kind to me. They helped me stay calm. The last thing I remember is being strapped down to the table and covered in warm blankets, staring up at the bright lights above me. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a different room. As I slowly became more and more awake, I felt the most incredible feeling. I was at peace. Even though I knew that I was no longer carrying my precious baby and the only person standing by me was a nurse I had never met, I felt more surrounded by love than I ever had. I felt as if God was holding me, comforting me and I knew that He was holding my angel too. In the one moment in my life that I should have felt the most alone, I felt closer to God than I ever had. I realized that God never leaves us. We may choose to leave Him, but He will never pull away from us. His arms are always open. We can always come back to Him.
The weeks and months that followed continued to be difficult including a trip to the ER, bed rest, messed up hormones that caused me and still cause me to have an emotional breakdown at the drop of a hat, chaos trying to get back into the rhythm of school and work, figuring out how this changes my relationship with Reyes, the ongoing battle in myself to be happy and feel normal again, frustration with people who didn't seem to understand, and so on. But even through the difficulties, we were still being blessed. Each day I was able to see God's hand in my life, whether it was a friend buying me a new loofah, family giving us a cheerful gift basket, a beautiful sunrise, a talented friend providing Aroma Touch Therapy sessions, a letter in the mail from an empathetic mom, friends waiting for us at the hospital, the perfect song coming on the radio, uplifting messages shared with us, a sincere prayer and tight hug from an uncle, new friends coming into our lives who understood, finding out and being able to visit where the hospital buried our baby in a memorial garden, and so much more.
Every day gets easier, but the pain of losing our child will never fully go away.
Every day is a choice.
We can choose God.
We can choose to see the good.
We can choose to share it with others.
Or not.
It's your choice.
