Well, this holiday season has proven to be much different than years before. Mostly in good ways, but also in some painful and hard ways.
This is the first Christmas without my family. One by one I've had to set limits on individuals within my family. It has been a very painful, difficult process filled with many difficult decisions, but has proven to help me heal and grow.
**There is going to be some graphic description in the following text- if you don't want to read it, please consider yourself warned**
About 2 weeks ago, we went in for a follow up ultrasound to check on the health of the twins. I was still in unbelief that there were two growing babies in there, but was completely unprepared that neither would have a heartbeat at the most recent ultrasound. It was a horribly sad day. Blah. I hope to never experience that again.
Then began the wait to miscarry. My naturopath had given me some homeopathic drops to help with the process, but even with that it was a week and 5 days after I had learned that neither baby was living that I miscarried. For some reason, I had only anticipated heavy bleeding- not a birth experience. Boy was I in for a surprise!
My husband had gone to his final writing class for the quarter, and I began heavy cramping that was the equivalent of contractions pain wise. About an hour after they started, they became more frequent and incredibly painful. I called him and told him he needed to come home and take care of our toddler as the pain was barely tolerable at that point. When he got home, I came upstairs to get more comfortable and the cramping got worse. I coughed, and felt a large gush of fluid. I anticipated blood, or tissue or something but it appears that it was my water that broke, along with some tissue that appeared to be the amniotic sac. It was a large clot, and after I passed that the cramping subsided, but I continued to bleed heavily. I was able to relax and watch a movie. I thought the worst was over, but just a few hours later I started having very painful contractions again, and went upstairs for some reason. I went to brace myself and ended up collapsing on the floor from the pain. I just sat there and wept. It was so painful! I couldn't even yell for my husband, so I went to text him…but apparently he didn't have his phone on and it was on silent.
Somehow, I made it to the bathroom, and when I sat down, I felt another large gush and felt something passing from my body- it felt very large. I looked and while I didn't see the babies, it appeared the be the rest of my placenta and lining, etc, along with whatever else was inside of it. I was in so much pain that I was shaking and felt like vomiting, so I didn't get to take a good look and see if the babies were in there. After that, the pain subsided, but I was still bleeding heavily and we decided to go in an get checked out. Because of the amount of blood, they sent me to the ER where they planned to do a D&C to get any remaining tissue and to stop the bleeding. But by the time they admitted me and sent me up for ultrasound, the bleeding had almost completely stopped- Praise God. I am truly grateful for that! The ultrasound showed that the miscarriage was almost complete, with just some endometrium that needed to come out, which would likely be just like a period over the next few days.
As I was miscarrying, I wasn't really processing my emotions- I was in the zone, just like I was during labor with my daughter. The next day, however, it hit me that I was no longer pregnant, and the babies I was carrying (albeit just for a moment, it seems), were no longer. All the hope I had already invested in this pregnancy was now gone. The pictures I had ordered as announcements would now have to be thrown away. The weight I had gained was no longer excusable. Blah. It just sucked. I would wake up in the middle of the night crying. I felt guilty that I flushed them down the toilet and didn't get to give them a proper goodbye. I know that sounds crazy, but there is something maternal that kicked in from the moment I knew I was pregnant, and I wanted these two little lives to know that I loved them, even though I never got to hold them.
I am not devastated. I will cry my tears freely because it hurts and I am sad. But I also don't think this is the end for us. I know that we will most likely go on to have at least one more healthy pregnancy- although that's not entirely something I can control. I am not hopeless.
While this whole experience was a nightmare, I noticed that how I view emotions and how I process them has drastically changed over the last year. And to me, that is reason to celebrate. I came from a place where I did not process- I stuffed my emotions. I didn't allow myself to feel anger, much less tell God that I was angry, or sad, or hurt. But this time, I knew I needed the practice, and instead of hiding from God, I ran to him just as I was. Hurt, angry, sad, and scared. It was uncomfortable, but I didn't pretend I was anything else for the sake or fear of his holiness and goodness because He became fully human for me, and I am fully accepted as human with him.
And I realized something- when I come in whatever state I am- I always leave changed because I am able to receive from Him all of his goodness, compassion, love, comfort, mercy, kindness, and understanding. My perspective has done a 180 in the sense that now I come to God expecting to receive from him and have all my needs met. I don't come to perform, or only show him my good, shiny, and perfect parts. I come knowing that I am completely accepted. That in His eyes, I am not a wanderer who is lost, but a child who is home, welcome and complete in Him (as imperfect as I am.) This is a testimony of the complete and utter goodness of God to HEAL and RESTORE my life.
I will leave you with this verse, and I pray that in the coming weeks and months, that God would reveal himself more and more as a great high priest who is able and completely willing to sympathize with our every need, and also as the ONE who will graciously pour out His kindness and mercy in our time of need.
Hebrews 4:15-16 For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin. 16 Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need."
Monday, December 23, 2013
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Whirlwind
It's been a while since I've posted. It's been a crazy 10 weeks. I found out I was pregnant at the end of October. We were thrilled that it didn't take any time at all to get pregnant with our second child, but I was then faced with the dilemma of if/when/how to tell my family- as almost none of my side of the family is involved in my life right now.
There were a couple weeks of stressing and praying, and we finally decided the best option would be that we wouldn't tell them unless I am in relationship with them again. They are just not safe people, and given how horrendous my last pregnancy was (emotionally) the last time, I wanted as little drama to deal with as possible.
I had my first ultrasound around 7.5 weeks. When I went in, my nurse midwife did the early ultrasound and the yolk sac was only measuring about 6 weeks- no baby was seen attached to it yet, but I also knew I ovulate late, and my dating has always been off because of that. I knew, too, that 6 weeks is right on the cusp of being able to see baby and heartbeat. I had to wait another week to determine for sure if this pregnancy was viable- at which point I was not concerned.
At the second ultrasound, my husband was not able to go with me. I was nervous, only because of how negative my doctor was at the first ultrasound. The technician spent her time doing the full exam, and as she scanned across my uterus, there appeared a second baby. You can imagine my surprise! I started shaking, and asking her if I saw what I thought I saw- she said it most definitely looks like a fetal pole (aka baby), but only one baby had a heartbeat. The second baby was measuring a few days behind, but that wasn't uncommon either in a twin pregnancy. I was in such shock, I really didn't believe it. I didn't know what to think! My husband actually didn't believe me either. They told me that they wanted to see me back in 7-10 days to get a better look. I decided to wait until after Thanksgiving, to give them more time to grow.
I was not prepared for that visit. I was immediately uncomfortable with the technician, I really don't know why. But as she did the transvaginal ultrasound, I could tell that the babies hadn't grown at all. They were just as small as almost 2 weeks before and I knew I should have been able to clearly see the fluttering hearts and little nubs wiggling around. I saw neither. The heart that had once been beating was no longer. She said nothing but "I need to talk to the radiologist. I will be right back." I was immediately angry. We sat, waiting for almost 20 minutes before she came back. Again, she gave no answer as to what was going on, but told me they wanted to see me upstairs in OB. GRRR. Me, my husband and dear daughter walked upstairs and waited another 30 minutes for a doctor whom I had never met, to tell me what in the world was going on. And I still didn't believe it.
She was wonderful though, assertive, to the point, but kind. She informed me that the previous ultrasound, one fetus had a heart rate which was low. She asked me if I had been told that. I told her that I had not- or if they did tell me, I didn't fully grasp what that meant. She informed me that when they see a low heart rate early, it can indicate an abnormality with the heart and can lead to miscarriage- but there is nothing they can do about it so early. I just sat and listened. She told me that she was very sorry, but that the pregnancy was not viable. She went through the options of having a D&C or to give myself some time to miscarry at home. Because the babies were still only measuring about 6 weeks, I opted to miscarry naturally (if my body would allow), vs having a surgical procedure. I felt this should be done in the comfort of my own home.
I cried the whole way home. I had just (literally the day before) ordered our Christmas cards which was the pregnancy announcement. I knew they would be arriving any day, and I no longer wanted to ever check my mail again. I thought my body would magically know that the babies had died, but apparently it can take weeks for your body to recognize that and miscarry. I've had cramping for a week and only now just started bleeding.
I know the facts, people miscarry- it doesn't mean there is anything wrong with you (unless they are reoccurring), it usually means that there is a fetal abnormality that does not allow for their survival, and in that case, I am grateful that this has happened now and not 10 weeks or 20 weeks, or God forbid after the baby is born.
Husbands just don't know what to do. In their mind, we can try again. We will have more babies. My husband, though he was well meaning, said something very stupid on the way home that day. He said "Think of it this way! Now we can go snowboarding for our anniversary." I wanted to punch him in the throat. For them, there is no emotional connection until they are born, or later. But there is something mysterious and amazing where the mother bonds with the baby (or babies) simply by a matter of hormones the moment that test is confirmed. I can't explain it because it makes no sense to me that I would feel such immense grief over something I just barely even knew. Those hormones that make you feel bloated, cause your boobs to hurt and make you want to throw up are a constant reminder that you are pregnant and all the hope and dreams that come along with that. I was still feeling all of those things when I went in for my appointment. I no longer feel them now.
A friend of mine just lost triplets- one at 9 weeks, one at 17 weeks and the third baby @ 19 weeks. I don't even want to imagine what life is like for her right now. I know that I have been spared an even more difficult journey, and for that I am grateful. But I am still very, very sad that I have lost two potential children, and sad that I have to try again. And to be honest, I don't know that I would have much tact or grace if one more person asks me when we are going to have more kids. Because just a week ago, I would have said "July 15th!"
I know that we will likely go on to have another healthy child, I'm not without hope. But it has been a whirlwind of 3 months.
There were a couple weeks of stressing and praying, and we finally decided the best option would be that we wouldn't tell them unless I am in relationship with them again. They are just not safe people, and given how horrendous my last pregnancy was (emotionally) the last time, I wanted as little drama to deal with as possible.
I had my first ultrasound around 7.5 weeks. When I went in, my nurse midwife did the early ultrasound and the yolk sac was only measuring about 6 weeks- no baby was seen attached to it yet, but I also knew I ovulate late, and my dating has always been off because of that. I knew, too, that 6 weeks is right on the cusp of being able to see baby and heartbeat. I had to wait another week to determine for sure if this pregnancy was viable- at which point I was not concerned.
At the second ultrasound, my husband was not able to go with me. I was nervous, only because of how negative my doctor was at the first ultrasound. The technician spent her time doing the full exam, and as she scanned across my uterus, there appeared a second baby. You can imagine my surprise! I started shaking, and asking her if I saw what I thought I saw- she said it most definitely looks like a fetal pole (aka baby), but only one baby had a heartbeat. The second baby was measuring a few days behind, but that wasn't uncommon either in a twin pregnancy. I was in such shock, I really didn't believe it. I didn't know what to think! My husband actually didn't believe me either. They told me that they wanted to see me back in 7-10 days to get a better look. I decided to wait until after Thanksgiving, to give them more time to grow.
I was not prepared for that visit. I was immediately uncomfortable with the technician, I really don't know why. But as she did the transvaginal ultrasound, I could tell that the babies hadn't grown at all. They were just as small as almost 2 weeks before and I knew I should have been able to clearly see the fluttering hearts and little nubs wiggling around. I saw neither. The heart that had once been beating was no longer. She said nothing but "I need to talk to the radiologist. I will be right back." I was immediately angry. We sat, waiting for almost 20 minutes before she came back. Again, she gave no answer as to what was going on, but told me they wanted to see me upstairs in OB. GRRR. Me, my husband and dear daughter walked upstairs and waited another 30 minutes for a doctor whom I had never met, to tell me what in the world was going on. And I still didn't believe it.
She was wonderful though, assertive, to the point, but kind. She informed me that the previous ultrasound, one fetus had a heart rate which was low. She asked me if I had been told that. I told her that I had not- or if they did tell me, I didn't fully grasp what that meant. She informed me that when they see a low heart rate early, it can indicate an abnormality with the heart and can lead to miscarriage- but there is nothing they can do about it so early. I just sat and listened. She told me that she was very sorry, but that the pregnancy was not viable. She went through the options of having a D&C or to give myself some time to miscarry at home. Because the babies were still only measuring about 6 weeks, I opted to miscarry naturally (if my body would allow), vs having a surgical procedure. I felt this should be done in the comfort of my own home.
I cried the whole way home. I had just (literally the day before) ordered our Christmas cards which was the pregnancy announcement. I knew they would be arriving any day, and I no longer wanted to ever check my mail again. I thought my body would magically know that the babies had died, but apparently it can take weeks for your body to recognize that and miscarry. I've had cramping for a week and only now just started bleeding.
I know the facts, people miscarry- it doesn't mean there is anything wrong with you (unless they are reoccurring), it usually means that there is a fetal abnormality that does not allow for their survival, and in that case, I am grateful that this has happened now and not 10 weeks or 20 weeks, or God forbid after the baby is born.
Husbands just don't know what to do. In their mind, we can try again. We will have more babies. My husband, though he was well meaning, said something very stupid on the way home that day. He said "Think of it this way! Now we can go snowboarding for our anniversary." I wanted to punch him in the throat. For them, there is no emotional connection until they are born, or later. But there is something mysterious and amazing where the mother bonds with the baby (or babies) simply by a matter of hormones the moment that test is confirmed. I can't explain it because it makes no sense to me that I would feel such immense grief over something I just barely even knew. Those hormones that make you feel bloated, cause your boobs to hurt and make you want to throw up are a constant reminder that you are pregnant and all the hope and dreams that come along with that. I was still feeling all of those things when I went in for my appointment. I no longer feel them now.
A friend of mine just lost triplets- one at 9 weeks, one at 17 weeks and the third baby @ 19 weeks. I don't even want to imagine what life is like for her right now. I know that I have been spared an even more difficult journey, and for that I am grateful. But I am still very, very sad that I have lost two potential children, and sad that I have to try again. And to be honest, I don't know that I would have much tact or grace if one more person asks me when we are going to have more kids. Because just a week ago, I would have said "July 15th!"
I know that we will likely go on to have another healthy child, I'm not without hope. But it has been a whirlwind of 3 months.
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