New Chapter

Well, it's been a while.  And so much has happened.  And it's not the kind of stuff you normally talk about with people.  And I've decided why NOT talk about it?  I mean, many, MANY people go through this, and what if they hear that I've been through it and they feel they have someone they can talk to?  Or what if it helps them feel like they're not alone?  Not to mention, why shouldn't I be able to share this, get it off my chest, and help free me so that I can move on with a new chapter?


So it's in this spirit that I share with you...


I'm having a miscarriage.  WE'RE having a miscarriage.


I say it that way because it still has not really happened yet.  It's going to--naturally or with surgery--but it just hasn't yet.  And let me tell you, I think that's been the worst part of it all.


We found out in February (over my birthday weekend actually) that I was pregnant.  I was through the moon.  Jeremy was in shock.  :)  We spent the next week or so trying to understand what was really going on (and I spent the next week or so taking several tests because I just didn't believe it was true!).  I went to my first doctor's appointment a few days later, to establish myself as a patient, and read everything they gave me about being pregnant!  I signed up for newsletters and trackers and was obsessed with what was going on with my little one every day.  It's intestines are forming?  AWESOME!


I started feeling a little less excited and a little more anxious probably around 5-6 weeks. It's not abnormal for me to worry about EVERYTHING, so I tried not to think anything of it.  I do think looking back that I knew what was going on.


We went for our first ultrasound at 7w2d, and I'm SO GLAD that Jeremy got to come with me, because like I just said, I really think I knew it wasn't going to be good news.  As soon as the ultrasound started, and I saw the screen, I just knew.  I had looked up pictures of ultrasounds for "normal" pregnancies at the 7w mark and none of them looked like that.  The ultrasound technician didn't say anything (other than "your ovaries look good" which sort of turned into the running comment of the day, which was odd).  Even Jeremy knew, probably because I made him look at pictures of "normal" ultrasounds for days before our appointment.  There wasn't a heartbeat.  Finally the technician said that the baby was measuring behind at 5w4d, and the doctor would talk to us in a few minutes.


The doctor took a few minutes and explained the same thing, that the baby was measuring behind and that there wasn't a heartbeat.  (She also praised my ovaries.  It was still strange.)  She got me scheduled for a follow-up ultrasound the next week, because if the baby was indeed growing, there should be a heartbeat by then (this would have meant that my dates were off, and I got pregnant later than I thought, but I knew that wasn't true).  


That first week was an incredible blur.  Not only was there the obvious sadness of what was likely happening, but I had only been off my medicine (anti-depressant/anti-anxiety) for 3 days when we got the bad news.  The doctors had wanted me to go off the meds for the health of the baby, and I had finally weaned myself off.  And then this.  I was doing really well without the meds until some serious stress hit!  I could hardly concentrate at work, I wasn't sleeping no matter how tired I was.  It was rough.  


The worst part is the anger I felt (and to some extent still feel) towards God.  Why would He do this to us?   Why did I have so many people in my life who were pregnant, which is just a constant reminder of what I'm missing?  Wasn't it perfect?  We found out we were pregnant for my birthday, and the baby was due in the month we got married.  It just seemed too perfect to end like this.


The week FINALLY went by and I went back to the doctor (my mom was kind enough to drive down to come with me since Jeremy couldn't get off of work).  Of course, the news was exactly what I expected.  Still no heartbeat, no bloodflow.  I managed to be mostly OK that day.  And for a day or two after that.  But then it was downhill again.  While I had come to terms as much as possible with WHAT was happening, I was not doing well with the fact that it WASN'T happening.  I'm going to spare you random details about all of this, but suffice it to say it STILL hasn't happened.  And now I'm going batty.  I really wanted to get through this experience without having surgery, but it may not be the case.  I'm completely losing my mind just not knowing when it's going to happen, and not being able to move on.  Really hard to move on when my body's not moving on.


So that's about got us caught up to today.  I go back in tomorrow for another appointment and hopefully figure out what I need to do.  My goal is for this to be over this week one way or the other, though I might not have control over that, ha!


I wish I could end this post with "...and now that God has revealed [insert incredibly powerful sentiment here], I know this has been for a higher purpose".  I am SOOO not there yet, and I'm trying to remind myself that's OK.   I do know in my heart that there is a higher purpose.  I do know in my heart that God wouldn't give me this if He couldn't bring me through it one way or the other.  But I'm just not to the point where I can live that truth yet.  All I can hope and pray for right now is that I do get to that point.