Today, October 27
th, was the due date for our second baby.
It is amazing how life changes the very second you find out you are pregnant. Everything changes. All of a sudden there's a presence in your body, in the house, in the family, in your heart and in your soul. Every decision from that moment forward takes on a new dimension. A new Mom's mind races. Instantly you figure out the due date, what the weather will be like at that time, whether he will make the school deadline, how old he will be at certain holidays, and how far apart the siblings will be. Everything changes. Is the CR-V big enough? Should I go back to work? Have we saved enough money? Will I need pink paint? Did I take aspirin yesterday?
As any expectant mother, I was so excited about the baby's first sonogram. I would hear the heartbeat for the first time, and would find out whether we were having twins. We have some twins on both sides of the family, and since aspects of this pregnancy were a bit different (we now know why), Dr. G. scheduled me for an impromptu "twin detection" sonogram on a Wednesday morning. Jeff was unable to come on such short notice as he had to work. It was clear by the way the Doctor quickly turned the sono screen away that something was wrong. I could not believe it as he started to explain. I couldn't breathe.
When he left the room, I had to get dressed and felt sick as I put my maternity shirt back on. I had come into the room pregnant, and had to leave the room 'not pregnant.' I gasped for air, and have never felt so alone. I wanted Jeff. Leaving that office was surreal. Walking out, I couldn't help but feel hot with jealousy as I passed all the pregnant women in the waiting room. I was angry at them. Some sat there looking and acting so uncomfortable. One even said to the nurse, "Tell him I'm ready to get this over with!" I wanted to scream. They were complaining. If they only knew. It shouldn't have been me. I didn't complain about my pregnancy! I was grateful!
In my car, I was inconsolable and the parking attendant said, "Honey, it will all be okay. God is with you." She had no idea what had happened to me, but God prompted her, and He comforted me through her at that moment.
Mom met me back at the house to put my maternity clothes away and help me rearrange my closet. She put Jack's laundry away because I did not want to go into the nursery. We looked at the little sonogram picture and cried together. She had lost a
grand baby too. She went into another room and called my grandparents and some others so I wouldn't have to. When I heard her telling people, I cried because I felt like I had caused them pain too.
Darin and Marilyn brought us steak and mashed potatoes that night. Marilyn listened as I told the story out loud for the first time. She didn't say a word and I appreciated that. She couldn't relate, and didn't try to. We both cried. I hadn't wanted to see anyone but was so glad she had come by.
I sent out an e-mail that next day. I was sorry I had told so many people. Over the next week, I received 45 responses. The responses were so overwhelming and we felt surrounded by love and prayer. I re-read each and every one of them again today, and finally deleted them.
It was amazing how many girlfriends said, "I have been through this too." Most of them had never told me about their experiences before this happened. It's a "club" that you don't realize exists until you are forced to join. It's a club I hoped I'd never join, but one in which I have found great comfort through these past months.
It took over five weeks for my body to catch up to our technology, which was by far the most difficult part of all of this. To know that you will miscarry has to be worse than having it happen when you least expect it. It seemed everyone else was moving on, often much quicker than I was, but I tried to understand. The most frequent question was, "Are you going to try again soon?" I could not help but feel defensive of the little life we had just lost. Actually, I felt very defensive. I knew they had the best of intentions, but does someone ask a widow of six weeks if she is going to date again soon?
For a few weeks, it was hard to see new babies, and sometimes hard not to feel mixed emotions as Emily's healthy pregnancy progressed. At first, I was so sad, wishing we were going through this together like we had planned. Before long, however, I found myself feeling an overwhelming sense of thankfulness for her little son. I was happy for her before, was even happier for her once I was so suddenly reminded what a miracle Evan's life really was. I no longer take babies and pregnancy for granted.
I thought I was doing well until about three weeks ago when a bill collector called from the hospital. She advised me that one of my payments was 8 days late. I apologized and explained that we had set up payment plans for the big stack of medical bills we faced, and that I was doing the best that I could. She gave me a slightly cold response, and it was apparently my last straw, bless her heart. I started bawling... "Ma'am, you need to be more sensitive! Every time I get an envelope from you, I cry. It's a reminder that I am not pregnant. Month after month I receive bills from you, from the OB, from the ER, from the anesthesiologist, all pouring salt into my wounds, kicking me while I am down!" She was silent. I continued, "I open your bill to make a payment, and every time I do I have to read the words "Incomplete Abortion" to describe the loss of my child! Then, I open another one, and another one. I am doing the best that I can!" She was dead silent, and I am sure she was shell-shocked. I cried and cried. Still, silence on her end of the line. She very softly asked if she could put me on hold. She came back on the line, apologized, and offered me $300 off the remaining balance, and I paid the rest in full. It felt so good. I could put that one piece behind me. I felt that much closer to finding some closure. I had not realized what these bills were doing to me, reminding me, not allowing me to move on. Instead of something that had happened, it felt like something that was happening over and over. I feel sorry for that poor phone rep, but I have felt better since getting that off my chest that day!
Anyway, as much as I had longed for a new baby, I have not been able to imagine trying again before this baby's due date. I felt that being pregnant with a new baby on October 27
th would be like we had forgotten about him. It did not feel right. I wanted to honor this baby's life cycle by waiting and grieving him for nine months. I felt I owed it to him and that I needed that time to mourn. Jeff has respected this decision throughout the past months, not pretending to understand.
I have thought about this day for about 6 months now, sometimes fearing it, at other times anticipating it. I spent weeks wondering how I would feel and how I would spend the hours. Sometimes I pictured myself taking Jack to the movies or the zoo to celebrate him and what he means to us; Sandra suggested that I go to a park and release a balloon go in honor of the baby. Most often I pictured myself sleeping the day away, crying and crying, and eating
queso.
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So, the day is here. I am glad I am not pregnant. I have thought of this baby we lost all day. It has always felt like it was a boy to me. I don't know why. But what if it was a girl - my only chance at a brown-haired girl? What if it was a blonde-haired boy with his Daddy's blue eyes? I will never know. Some say I will meet this baby in heaven. I don't know.
A friend of mine asked if she could take me (and Jack) to lunch today. I had my queso after all. She suffered a miscarriage a few weeks after I did, and she always lets me talk about the details others just don't want to hear. I shared that had a terrible dream last night that I was holding a baby and he kept slipping out of my arms. The mom finally took him from me. I had forgotten how to hold a baby. I woke up in a sweat. She just listened and understood. I needed that. After lunch, we shopped for a while until Jeff got home from work. I enjoyed having Jack close all day. Jeff cooked dinner, and then gave me space so I could come write. I needed blog therapy.
A few minutes ago, he came in here and he had bought me Beth Moore's devotional "Praying God's Word Day by Day." I cried some more. Then, Jack came to give me a bedtime kiss, and he allowed me to hug him tighter and longer than he ever does. He wasn't silly like he usually is, and he just let me hold him. He asked me, "Mommy, why are you crying? Is it because you want a baby?" I was shocked. I looked at Jeff who told me that he had not said a word to Jack about a baby. They know. They hear and they listen. I cried, and told him that it was okay for Mommies and Daddies to be sad sometimes.
Throughout this process, I have learned many things:
1) Jeff and I are much stronger than I realized. He does not understand what I am feeling, and is not trying to pretend to. He got me the sweetest card today; He left it on my steering wheel. I will never forget it. God strengthens our marriages through trials, so we are thankful for that.
2) To say you trust God and to actually place your trust in Him are two different things. From the day
after the miscarriage, we have chosen to "praise Him in this storm." God's plan is not one that we have to understand, and we do not try to decipher the meaning of this loss. We thank Him for whatever He saved us from, and whatever He has in store for our lives. It feels good. It feels obedient. We have been blessed by doing so.
3) I will never again minimize the effects of a miscarriage, no matter how early on in the pregnancy it happens. It is a death... the death of a baby, and of a dream. Until this happened to me, I will admit that I minimized it sometimes and thought, "Well, it happens. They'll get pregnant again... God has a plan." It is so hard to be told in a time of devastation that "God has a plan" or that your baby "wasn't meant to be."
4) I mustn't allow the fear of miscarrying again to keep me from trying. I have to be prayerful or fear can grip me and become overwhelming at times. I ask God for more children. Sometimes I beg. I am afraid that I will not have another baby. Fear is not of God. I want to be present in my own life. I want to live in the here and now, enjoying Jeff and Jack and recognizing the blessings I have now. It's easy to sulk in the past, or look in fear to the future, but I am trying not to do that. Still, I allow myself to tell God what my heart desires.
Phillippians 4: 6 and 7 tell us, "Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."
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I will still think about the little life that was inside me for 10 short weeks. He changed me. He changed his Dad, and we're thankful for that. His due date is here; It's sad that he is not. However, it feels okay to move on. It feels okay to start thinking about a new baby and a new start. It feels okay to delete the sad e-mails and to put away the cards. It's okay to dry some of these tears and say goodbye to that dream. Tonight, we go to sleep and we dream new dreams.
Goodnight, Little One.
Mommy recorded Rascal Flatts singing "Life is a Highway," Jack's favorite song. Night after night, he dances to this song to get the rest of that energy out.
We enjoyed dinner with long-time friends, Duane and Elisa who came into town to see Shamu. Cason, Jack, and Jack Everett had fun too! That is one CUTE pair of Jacks.
Jack with his safari shirt and hand-made toilet paper roll binoculars from Sunday School. "God made everything you see!"
Jack ate corn spaghetti for the first time! He loved it!
Darlene, Mel, Hope, Lacey, Jack and I walked in the American Heart Association's Heart Walk this Saturday morning in tribute to Jarrell. We are coming up on the one-year anniversary of his home-going, so it was nice to walk in his honor. The weather was great and Jack especially enjoyed seeing all the puppy dogs. Well, while he was awake, that is. In this pic, Jack Everett is dreaming about how much he loves his Papa!
I babysat for Julie and Duane for their anniversary. Jack and Alli Jean had a blast as usual! For more pics from the evening: http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLandingSignin.jsp?Uc=s5k5l03.7jnwbgc7&Uy=-l5zkxk&Upost_signin=Slideshow.jsp%3Fmode%3Dfromshare&Ux=0
Jack staged his first strike on preschool. After pitching a formidable fit, he laid down in front of the bathroom door, put his head on his stuffed "lamby," and fell back to sleep in the hallway. Yes, I was late to work.
"THReeeEEE!..." (This was the shallow pool.)
Ok, Jack is not so sure.
"Hmmm.... It's much deeper than I thought."
Jack finally gets up the nerve. "Wheee!"
"FREE Fallin'...."
I said, "Okay, Jack, you can touch the tree, but look at Mommy." This is the result. He did his best not to look at the tree. I love this picture.
Of course, my favorite one turns out blurry. Still so handsome.
"I can see you Mommy!"
" Rock n' roll, and Hook 'em Horns!"
OK, maybe a little like his Daddy too.
Jack, keeping all his ducks in a row.
By the way, a special thanks to Aunt Mel for the green roll-on body soap. It works great on his body, the wall, the tub, the rug, his towel, the curtain, and all the rubber duckies' faces.
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