Last Monday I went to see Dr. A. He was very thourough in his explanation of what was to happen during the surgery and most importantly, he let me do alot of talking. He mentioned that he had personally spoken with my regular OB. He also mentioned that after having 5 boys, he and his wife adopted from China. Red Thread and a confirmation from God I think. I was surprised how calm I was. I almost felt like I was in business mode and would deal with any feelings on what was about to happen later. Tuesday morning came and I went into labor right as we were leaving for the hospital. I was whisked off to the Pre-op area where the nurses started an IV right away and gave me some pretty good drugs so that the pain was mostly gone and another drug so that I didn't care. The dr. said he barely had to do anything because the baby was right there (no D&C). I go to see him for a follow up visit later next week.
When the dr. came out to inform Matt how the surgery went, Matt asked if the doctor could tell what sex the baby was. I already knew...a little boy. We have decided to name him Stephen after the first martyr of the Church. The baby's remains will be sent to a cemetary not too far away.
I have recovered better than I thought I would physically. Emotionally I feel like I am doing better on the whole...but not so good during certain periods. I have my moments and the sadness can be incredibly profound. I have not experienced anything like it so far. I go from just sadness at the loss of what might have been to actually wanting this baby back so bad it hurts. I feel like I am missing a part of myself. My body is starting to return to its regular shape just as I was starting to feel beautiful (which is why I thought it must be a boy). My milk came in and that bothered me alot. I had to force myself to focus on the positive part of it...that my body realized I was no longer pregnant. I have been trying to keep myself busy (which is easy to do with four kids). I try not to let my mind wander too much into that dark area. My boy is in Heaven with his Father. I try to rejoice for him and I pray to him that he watches over our family. We miss him.
That's where most of the pain comes from...missing him. In my selfishness in wanting him here, I wallow in that sorrow. It is part of the normal grieving process I am told. I just never wanted this to be part of my "normal". I accept that these things happen. All of our children are on loan for they never truly belong to us. We are powerless to stop these things from happening. But I cannot ignore the ache in my arms that long to hold that child. I cannot ignore the hollowness in my heart for that sweet baby boy. I cannot pretend that I am all better. However, there are things I do know...that I cannot get through all of this without the grace of God. I cannot begin to sift through my feelings without pleading to Him daily for healing and acceptance. I cannot function without the small ways He shows me He is near. It is faith that will get me through.

Grief

It has been well over a month since my last post. I don't even know where to begin. FIL is doing well with his liver transplant despite a few setbacks. I also satisfied some nursing callings with being in charge of hooking him up to his IV.

Another happening is going to be difficult to write about but important to document. We lost our precious baby. I went in for a routine 16 week check up. Dr.C couldn't find the heartbeat. I wasn't overly concerned until the Ultra sound scan showed no movement. It wasn't a great picture but it didn't take long to know why we weren't hearing it on the doppler. I had Han and Em with me (so they could hear the heartbeat). I just felt so numb. I felt like things were very unreal. Dr. sent me over to the hospital where they could get a better picture. I wanted so bad for the dr. to be wrong. I still had a glimmer of hope. The dr. explained that because I was 16 weeks along that it would be a delivery but they would keep me as comfortable as possible. That part didn't compute right away.
Matt came to pick me up from the dr.'s and we drove off to the hospital. We walked in the room and I laid down on the table. Across the room was a huge monitor where you could see what the technician was scanning. An ultrasound picture came up immediately of the profile of our baby. It was perfectly identifiable. I could see the spine, the hands with little fingers. I could see the skull and the shape of the cheeks. I could see the baby's knees drawn up to itself in true fetal position. I could also see that where a beating heart should be pounding away, there was nothing.
The technician asked if I wanted to monitor turned off. I said no. After all, this would be the only glimpse of my baby that I will ever get. I just kept looking and staring. So peaceful curled up in there. It gave me great comfort to see my baby and know for sure that he/she didn't make it. It is strange to feel that but it left no doubt that my baby was gone. Dr. M came in and explained that the baby was only 13.5 weeks along. He said it could be a genetic thing (which is why most miscarriages occur). He also pointed out some spots of blood near the placenta. Despite the fact that I have not spotted or bled, it could have been the cause. I don't know if we will ever have an answer for that. They were very compassionate there and I am thankful that I had medical staff who had the utmost respect for my feelings. They gave us a moment to gather ourselves together.
My regular OB called and explained why I had to go to someone else. It is risky with bleeding and I also have a bicornuate uterus. My regular OB was wonderfully compassionate. He told me to grieve and mourn the loss of my child. He was such a comfort to me.
The grief of this loss has hit me in waves. It comes at unexpected moments. One minute I will busy myself with something. The next, I am walking through the house and suddenly burst into tears. The pain of this is physical and can be suffocating at times. It literally hurts in my heart and it bends me in half. I have been through some rough times in my life and I know how emotional pain feels. But, this is the first time I have felt grief on this level... I have lost my baby. I know that these things happen. I am not wallowing in self pity. I do not ask myself, "why me?". I understand it is nothing I did or didn't do. I do not think it to be unfair. I do not feel like I am being punished. I am just simply in mourning. My arms ache for this baby that I will never hold. I feel completely blessed to have been this child's mommy for 13.5 short weeks. I have loved this child from the moment I knew he/she existed. As a christian woman, I accept God's plan in all of this even if it is not my plan. I also know that through suffering comes great grace. I have already felt this grace in knowing just how much I am capable of loving another human being. I am that much closer to understanding how precious life is. That these little ones really are just on loan. I have known that with Hannah(and almost losing her with asthma) but I fully realize it with the loss of this little one.
I have been blessed also with a wonderful system of support. My husband has stood right next to me and has held me up even as he deals with his own grief. My sister has known what to distract me with. My friend, who has suffered this grief several times, has been a wonderful comfort to me. She has known exactly what to say and when to say it. All of the family members that have heard have expressed grief. So this baby was truly loved by all. I take comfort in knowing that all who knew about this baby have been touched by him/her.