In my post MY LIFE IN SONGS I shared about my most recent miscarriage. I purposefully left out other details, but I will expound here, since it is part of this story.
Almost 10 years ago we found out that we were expecting our first little one. It was a HUGE surprise. We were both still in graduate school, had next to no money, and although we loved children we were not sure we were ready to be parents. BUT, our son came and we loved him and we learned along the way and we never regretted bringing him into the world.
Unfortunately his birth was rocky, for both him and me, and led to some health problems. Doctors said it would not cause any lasting damage to either of us, but two years later when we tried for our second child it was a struggle. We finally conceived, only to loose the baby in eight weeks, our first miscarriage. It was horrible for both of us, and even though we sought medical help in 3 countries, doctors could find nothing wrong with either one of us and encouraged us to keep trying. Over the next 6 years we would have 5 more miscarriages.
In 2011 we were forced to evacuate the country we were living in. It was a hard ordeal, but one we had seen coming. As we packed our few bags and sold off the rest we decided that the time had come to make a decision. Should we keep trying to grow our family, or should we let it go.
(A year after our first miscarriage we decided to go ahead and adopt, since we had always talked about doing that anyway, and so started the rough two year journey of bringing our precious Jade Mia into our family, giving us a total of two wonderful children. That is a adventure story in itself - but a story for another day.)
We decided that it was time to let go. We loved our little family of four, we were happy and felt complete, and frankly we did not have room to bring all our baby items with us. We sold or gave away every last baby item we owned, beds, strollers, toys, blankets, diapers and covers - everything we had saved 'just in case.' Most of it went to sweet local friends who were, or would soon to be, expecting their own little bundles of joy. It felt good to let go and bless others at the same time. I think the last part of me finally started to heal that day.
So in April of this year, when we realized I was having another miscarriage, we were astounded and shocked. We had not given more children another thought since November when we let go. The doctor that I went to for treatment was a little concerned when I told her my story. She suggested that so many painful experiences were not good for me. We had started talking about taking 'precautions' mostly for my health than for any other reason when I got really sick. At first I thought I just had a stomach bug, but it got worse and I realized that I had never really gained my strength back after the miscarriage. We both agreed that it sounded like something had gone wrong with the miscarriage this time and so headed back to the hospital. Imagine my surprise when, after all the tests were complete the nurse came in and said "Congratulations!" I must have looked like a complete idiot because she quickly replied "You didn't know? You're pregnant!"
"WHAT?" That was all I could say. She proceeded to take my vitals again, but quickly stopped when she realized my heart rate had gone out the roof. It had only been 10 weeks since my last miscarriage, I was not ready for this, I did not want to go through another miscarriage (Which by now I was convinced was the only result I would ever get from a positive pregnancy test).
By the time the doctor came in to see me I was under control again, of a sort. We talked about my history in more depth and she did her exam and an ultrasound. According to the ultrasound the baby was about 5 weeks along. She decided the best thing we could do was monitor progress closely, make sure my hormones stayed at the right levels, and for me to get lots of rest - LOTS. She felt certain that if we could get to week 12 then this baby would make it. I was still scared and unsure, but willing to trust her and follow her directions.
About this time I realized that this was going to be an emotional journey, whatever the outcome, and since I had been enjoying my art journaling, I decided (with some encouragement from some great friends) to start a new journal - a BUMP BOOK. So I will use the pages from my book to tell the next few weeks of the story.
My cover is not finished, but here is my opening fly page:
This quote came in my art journaling workshop I am taking, and to be honest, at first I had no idea how to use it, but then as this pregnancy unfolded I decided it was perfect for our story. The flower, from the minute I saw it, represented life and I just though that was beautiful.
Week 4: This was the week we realized something was wrong
I meant for it to be chaotic, I felt chaotic, I was afraid.
Week 5: After the first visit and the sonogram.
The ultrasound was what really stuck with me from this visit. It was the first time since my son that I had seen one of my babies, and it made everything seem so much more real. I was scared, but in awe at the same time. The ultra sound only really showed the sac - the baby was still too small, but that sac meant life to my still hurting heart, when I started to draw it into the journal page it came out as a leaf. Life slowly unfolding from the dead of winter. the more I worked on the page the more in awe I felt.
Week 6: rest
Well, she did tell me to rest as much as possible. To stay in bed if I could. With two kids and a husband who worked full time I couldn't be in bed 24-7 but there were days when I got close.
Week 7: Courage
This was a big week for me. It was midway leading up to the second ultrasound, the one where we would see if the little one was actually alive. I admit, I freaked out this week. I was doing anything and everything I could to keep my mind off the possibilities. By this point I knew that I wanted this baby to live, but I also was subconsciously preparing myself for its loss. It was this week that my friend Inger posted a courage challenge on her blog, and this quote by Mary Tyler Moore really spoke to me. I had been through horrid things in regards to pregnancy but I could be brave and face this. I decided to take the plunge and to hope, to believe that this baby would make it, that I would get to meet it one day and hold it in my arms. It really lifted my spirits and I knew I had to use it in this weeks journal.
Week 8: Cereal
I admit it, I really don't like this page, but the only other word I could think of was vomit, since I was doing so much of that, but I thought I would stick to the positive, cereal I could keep down, and that was about all I ate this week. My sister kept encouraging me by saying that it was good I was so sick - it meant my hormone levels were good and baby was most likely thriving. Doctor agreed with her and I fought through the ickies. Looking back I am actually surprised I made a page at all that week.
Week 9: Jumping Jellybeans
This was our next ultrasound week, and little one was not only alive, it was jumping all over the place waving little stubby arms and kicking little stubby legs. Its little heart beat like crazy and Doctor was so happy to see that she laughed and I cried with relief. It was like I had been holding my breath for the last two weeks, and finally was getting fresh air. We were still not out of danger, I have had 2 miscarriages past week 8, but doctor kept encouraging me, and I kept that image of those happy little movements tucked close to my heart.
Week 10: I feel you!
Everyone says that you can't feel your baby at this stage, but I beg to differ. I was sitting there reading one afternoon and I felt the distinctive little feeling of something small tapping lightly against me. At first I didn't really register it, but it kept tapping, in the same spot, with the same feel, and I just knew it was baby. Over that week I kept feeling the same type of movement in the same area, nothing dramatic but definitely in the right place. It was a moment of connection for me, a time when I felt all the stress of this ordeal just seep away. I trust God to bring this to the ending he has planned, and until then I stand in awe of his creation.
That is all I have finished for now. We have actually at this date made it to week 13 and I have some fun pages started, but not ready to share. Doctor has kept me labeled high risk for the moment because of some concerns she had at last weeks appointment, but we are hoping that by week 14-15 those concerns will clear up. In the mean time, I am relishing this experience that I thought would never come again. I am enjoying each moment of my own personal miracle that I have been blessed to be a part of. I do not know how it will end, but each moment is a treasure, that I am striving to share with my children and husband, so that they too can be filled with the awe and wonder that has enveloped me in the last 6 weeks.
Pain does nourish courage, if I let it, and awe nourishes trust and hope. I trust that this is just the beginning of a beautiful story and I hope one day to share the entirety of it with you.
In the meantime, remember, miracles do still happen, we just have to let go of control so that they can.
Thanks for sharing my journey with me.
