The beginning. I wanted to start trying to have another baby this last January. My son was turning 1 yr old, and I wanted to have them close together. I thought it would be so fun to have two little buds. So we tried for a few months. I was really confused that I didn't get pregnant right away. We got pregnant so easily with our son it actually shocked us. I thought it would be just as easy this time. I hadn't been on birth control, and I felt otherwise healthy. Just like last time. So I was so devastated by the negative results I was getting. But, then FINALLY! That little pink line! I was SO relieved and SO excited!
I went to my doctor when I was supposed to be about 8 weeks, and the ultrasound said it wasn't even measuring 6 weeks. So no big deal right? That's what I thought, too. But then when I was supposed to go back and get remeasured, It was gone. My doctor told me I was going to miscarry. This came as such a shock. My mind just completely stopped. This doesn't happen to me. This can't happen to me. I had a healthy baby already! What happened?! I could hardly even keep listening to what my doctor was saying. My ears just started ringing and it was all I could do to keep the tears partially stayed. I made it out to the waiting room and it was FULL of pregnant women. I have never been one to just lose it emotionally, but just the sight of them with their babies crushed me. The tears started spilling before I could even try to stop them. I made it out to my car, and I couldn't hold back anymore. I tried to call my husband, but my cell phone wasn't working. I needed some help, so I prayed. I was immediately wrapped in some loving arms and felt such love and comfort overcome me; the pain was stopped. It would be ok. I didn't know if I would keep this baby or not, but I would be ok.
My doctor had told me to come back in a week to see what was going on again. So I did, and this time, the ultrasound looked BETTER! I was so excited for a tiny bit of hope. My heart just raced. Maybe it will be ok. Maybe. So, since the ultrasounds were somewhat conflicting my doctor wanted to draw an HCG level to know for sure. So I had it drawn that day and was to repeat in 2 days. The first level came back in normal range, but you don't know anything until you compare it to a second level 48 hours later. It should at least double. I came back in 2 days and it had gone down. That small hope I had disappeared. I was an emotional roller coaster. The down, then up, then way down. I was so confused and hurt. But I knew it would be ok. I was told that. So I tried to stay as positive as I could in the circumstances. Also, my doctor had told me the chances of having a miscarriage again went way down, and odds were in my favor. Next time would be ok.
So, we tried again. This time the negative results were even more devastating than before. But I was still hopeful. It would happen! A few months went by again. What was wrong with me? Why can't I have another baby? Then again, that little pink line!!! The emotional relief was soo intense. I felt so relaxed and comforted. FINALLY. It was like the tension all over my body was cut in an instant. I had an ultrasound when I was about 8 weeks again. But it was measuring small again. About a week late. My heart dropped and I felt like my breathing stopped as well. I could feel the tears welling up in me again. Not again! NOT again! But the ultrasound tech was pointing out all the healthy indicators to me and said that everything really looked great. And then there was the heartbeat! I cried with joy when I heard that sweet music. The last one never got that far. This is good. It will be ok. So I left feeling relieved and excited! But I still was not out of the woods, so I tried not to get too excited. I started running my errands after the appt and was still feeling so elated. Then I was getting hot, and started to feel sweaty and damp. I started wondering why I felt so wet. When I got into my car I checked, and I couldn't even speak or move when I saw the blood. There was so much! I was just reassured and told it was healthy less than 2 hours ago! How can this happen? I was shaking and in disbelief and starting to lose control. I tried to call my doctor but the office was closed. I tried to call my nurse at the hospital but they were gone home as well. I didn't know where I could go. I had to get ready for activity days in 30 min, so I pulled myself together and went. My mind was completely missing during the activity, but the girls were busy enough they didn't notice. Then I called the after hours line to my doctor again after the activity and told him what happened. He told me to come in first thing in the morning and he would get me in. So I did.
The ultrasound showed the area where I bled, AND the baby. There it was. Complete with that same little heartbeat just fluttering away. My wonderful doctor reassured me again. He told me that this happens fairly frequently, and in most cases it means nothing. It was far from the baby, and it still looked healthy, and it should be ok. So I left feeling nervous but reassured. I continued to spot, but not nearly so bad as that day. I had another appt 2 weeks later just to check on it again. So I went feeling happy and confident. I felt like this time would be ok.
When he started looking at the baby, I could see the screen and just started searching for that little flutter. My heart rate slowly rising because I couldn't find it. My resp rate started rising, and I was getting nervous. Still no heart beat. Then my doctor turned to me and told me he had bad news. The heartbeat was gone. I was going to lose this baby, too. I started sobbing on the table. I had been getting comfortable, and somewhat sure that this one was the one. I had made a carseat cover and changing pad covers YESTERDAY. I had unpacked my box of maternity clothes that had been on the floor of my closet for over a month YESTERDAY. I thought about the next few months and how I wouldn't have a baby bump as proof of my trial. I wouldn't have a baby in March. I couldn't even listen to my doctor try to comfort me again. All I coherently heard was that I would probably need a D&C this time. My mind stopped. NO! You can't take my baby from me! I just couldn't bear the thought.
I left with tears streaming down my cheeks again. I called my husband, and I could hardly even get out the words. Last time I had some time to adjust and accept what was happening. This time the door was slammed in my face. The rug was pulled out from under me. Thursday morning I woke up with cramping and significant bleeding. I couldn't stand to bleed for 3 weeks again, so I called to make an appt for a D&C later that day. The cramping got worse and a little after noon it got really bad. The pain was as bad as contractions. I couldn't even stand. I was forced to my knees, and I couldn't even focus. I made it to the bathroom, and shortly afterwards I passed my baby. I could see it. Right there. I picked it up and held it tenderly and sobbed. It was so tiny. About an inch long. But so distinguishable. I could see it's eyes, nose, mouth, its intestines, and even 10 tiny fingers and 10 tiny toes. It was so small. I cried and cried.
I went to put it on some toilet paper. NO! my baby deserves better than that. So I went to the closet in a frenzy to get a small piece of cloth. NO! my baby deserves a blanket! Something soft. So again I ran upstairs in a frenzy again to get a small blanket that matched my son's favorite blanket to put it on. My appt time was coming up, but I didn't know if I should still go or not. I tried to call, but the nurses station was closed from 1-2 for lunch. I went anyway. I carried my baby in my lap all the way there. I had to drop my son off at my dear friend's house, and I was so emotional I could barely stand to leave him there when he was reaching for me. My husband drove us up to the clinic, and we went in. I thought it unfitting that the clinic is in a spa. There were happy women around me getting pampered, and I was struggling with the loss of my baby.
I had to give the nurse my baby so it could be tested. I went in to be prepped, was cleaned out, and was on my way home empty handed. I came home to see the pile of fabric that I had made my carseat cover from. There was all this evidence everywhere, and I had been stripped of everything. But, I just wanted to finish the nursing cover I had planned to make. I wanted to make it for my baby. So I got to work, and it was nice to have something to do. While I was making it, I didn't account for turning it inside out, and the boning ended up being in backwards. I couldn't stand it not being perfect, so I spent a half hour picking it out and then resewing it to make it perfect for my baby. I could do that for my baby.
I cried myself to sleep every night for several nights after that. It got to the point I didn't want to go to bed and would stay up really late in the hopes I would fall asleep instantly. I prayed for strength all day long. To keep it together. At least for my son if not for me. I have a whole new love for the song 'I Need Thee Every Hour,' because I really did. Every hour I needed new strength. I cried multiple times a day. I could hardly find energy to do anything. To make matters worse I got sick with the flu early Friday morning and was sick all day. I had no appetite the next couple days. I have lost 5 pounds in less than a week, and still haven't had a good appetite. I have struggled with depression before, and I could see myself sliding down that slippery slope. I had no motivation. Things didn't make me happy like they used to. I had no energy, but I couldn't sleep. I was getting so numb, though the tears still came. I could see that downward spiral, and I couldn't stop myself from falling into it. One day as I was sitting on the couch, I knew what was happening, but I could not find the energy to even try to stop it. I thought about letting myself go, because that would be easier than trying to stop it. I thought about how that would make me a terrible mother. I thought about my husband. But, I still couldn't find anything to help me stop.
I eventually went and got my patriarchal blessing. I thought it may have some comfort for me in it. As I read it, I got to a part that said I would come to know that despite stumbling and difficult challenges, Jesus' grace is sufficient to help me overcome any problem. No matter what it is. I sat and pondered that, and sobs shook my body. The spirit taught me 2 things.
1: The atonement is not just for repentance. Yes, Christ suffered for all our sins. That if we believe in him, we would find remission. I have come to know the sweetness of forgiveness in past trials, and it is exquisite. But, I learned that Christ also suffered our trials. Not the ones that we bring upon ourselves through mistakes, but the ones that we suffer because of life, nature, others, any trial that is through no fault of our own. He suffered those trials so he can comfort us perfectly. Though I did not mess up to cause this pain, I can STILL QUALIFY for Christ's love and comfort through his atonement.
2: I still have my agency. I sat there thinking that Christ has the power to fix any problem I have. I know that the chemistry in my brain is off, and I can't fix it. But Christ can. BUT, he wont just fix it for me. I need to ask. I still have my agency.
So, I sat there at a crossroad on the couch. I had a simple, but difficult (at the time) choice to make. I could sit there, and fall down that spiral I couldn't get out of. Or, I could have some strength and faith. Get up off the couch and pray that I would be healed. At that point, I was at a low, and I felt that I could not get up off the couch and do anything. I felt like it was an impossible task. But I didn't want to fall either. I sat there crying for some time trying to make my decision. I finally came to this. Either decision I make is probably going to lead me to the same end. I will have another baby at some time in the future. My husband gave me 2 blessings through this ordeal, and in both he told me I would have many opportunities to be a mother. I would have another baby. So, I could fall, let myself go, get better at some point, and have another baby. But I would be down, depressed, and probably wouldn't be a good mother to my son. Or, I could get up, have faith I would be healed, and be happy. I could get things accomplished, be a good mother, be a good wife. The choice became clear, though I still didn't know how I could do it. So I prayed. I prayed for the strength to make the good decision. That I could experience life through this trial, not just endure it. I wanted to handle this trial well, and I needed strength to do that. I told Heavenly Father that I could get up and take one step. I could do that. But I was honestly so depressed and hurt from my loss that I didn't think I could do much more than that. So I prayed. Please help me. I can take one step. I can take one step. I was there at my crossroad ready to take that step. I felt blindfolded and scared. I could take that step and fall. Or, I could take that step and Christ would be there to catch me. So, I took that step. And I can tell you, that after that one step, my prayer was immediately answered. My entire countenance changed. I felt all the pain and sadness leave me. I kept walking into the kitchen. I was still crying, but now it was tears of joy. He helped me overcome my problem. No matter what it was. I prayed with thanks this time. For helping me even though I don't deserve it. Even though I am so blessed already. Even though I should have had the strength to do it myself. Thank you. And I got to work. Something that was so impossible just moments before.
And here I am. I've been having a hard time still, but not nearly like it was. I still pray for strength, and I am so thankful for my friends and family that have been so loving and supportive. I couldn't have done it without all the help I received. But I miss my baby so much. I don't even know if it was a boy or a girl, but I already loved it like a full term baby. We will be trying again, and I hope that things will work out better this time.
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