Gosh, things have been crazy the last several months...School was over the last week end in May, and the summer flew by, and now here we are.
I did several things over the summer involving church. I spent the week of campmeeting helping usher the night services. I worked 3 weeks at Church of God youth camp as the Camp Nurse. I worked the Senior Teen camp, was off for 2 weeks, and then worked two more.
The weekend before my 2nd week at camp we found out we were having our 3rd child. I was so excited. I had known all along that we were meant to have a 3rd child. I spent that full week at camp, and had a few symptoms of pregnancy. I was very tired. I went home on Friday, and the sickness began. I went back for the Junior mini camp, and endured the entire 4 days sick as a dog. All I wanted to do was go home. Trenton, my 9 year old, was there, so I got to see him enjoy himself.
After that week of camp, I pretty much was bed ridden. I was admitted to the hospital the following Monday for dehydration. I had "hyperemesis", and swallowing my own spit was a chore, and at times I couldn't do that. It was paralyzing, but I knew things were going the way they should due to me being so sick. I was dismissed from the hospital on day 2, but I was still throwing up. I was hoping the fluids would help, but to no avail. I went to bed when I got home, and was there for days. It took everything I had to take a shower and brush my teeth. I just remember laying on the couch, and watching my other 2 as they played outside. I could see them, but couldn't do anything with them. I went to the doctor the next week for my first prenatal visit, and I asked him to do an ultrasound to make sure there was only one in there. I was SO sick, and I wanted to be sure. There the baby was, the precious child I was working so hard for. It was so amazing to see that little heart flutter. Instantly, it was all worth the vomiting. The sickness, in itself, was very lonely. I felt like the pregnancy and I were not getting along very well. I missed being the wife that cleans the house and makes dinner. I missed being able to eat at the table with my family, I had to eat in another room in case I needed to vomit. There were days that I would throw up 10x a day. I was on Zofran 8mg every 6 hrs, and it helped some. It was like I was doing everything in my power to survive. All I could do was lay around.
In August, I started back to work, and I made myself GO. I was weak and sick at my stomach constantly. Even though, I was sick, I was beginning to "show". Being a school nurse, I had the summer to kind of get the sickness out, but I just had to tough it out. I just kept thinking to myself, this is worth it, it will be worth it in the end.
On August 26th, I was scheduled to see my OB for my 13 week check up. I had just started feeling better 2 days before. Finally, I thought, I can be human again. I was even able to eat and walk with the family at night. I can remember waking up the morning of my appointment, excited that I was going to HEAR the heartbeat for the first time. It was going to validate all I was feeling. It was a normal routine visit as far as urine and blood pressure goes. The doctor came in, and we were discussing my nausea and how rough it had been. He had the doppler out and was listening for the heartbeat. He used the probe to move around my stomach, but only the sound of my bloodflow. It didn't surprise me because this had happened with my daughter. So off to the ultrasound room we went. I sat up on the table humorously discussing the "swine flu " vaccine. He put the ultrasound probe on my stomach, and I saw the baby and the sac. The doctor was silent for quite awhile, and the next words he said shook me to the core, "This isn't good, there is no heartbeat." I felt a cloud come over me, and I was paralyzed with shock. I just sat there in disbelief. All I could say was..." I threw up and worked for nothing'. I was in the office alone because there was no need to have hubby come to my doctor's visit, this was my third and we were pros. The doctor told me that I would need a D and C, and it would be on Tuesday. My appointment was on a Wednesday afternnoon, so I would have to wait 6 days. He stepped out, and I called Lloyd to tell him that our baby was dead. I began to cry then, but trying so hard to hold it all together. I was to be strong, but I felt my strength leaving me with every breath. The drive home was spent calling my family and my dearest friends. I was worried about my kids, but the doctor said, they would be better than me. I got home and talked with the kids as I cried. They were so precious, and I was so thankful to have them. I adore my children, and that is why I wanted another one, because this one would have been as wonderful as my Trenton and Sarah.
I spent the next several days, sick and still having pregnancy symptoms. It was like a very weird place I had never been. Nothing was helping this pain I felt. NO kind words, cards, flowers, and kind gestures helped this pain. My whole world had been turned upside down. I did get out of the house some. I didn't want to be around a lot of people. In fact, I avoided it. I went to my sister's house when Lloyd took the kids to a birthday party. I felt safe there, and I laid in bed with her and ate chocolate cake and Burger King. Food tasted wonderful by this point. The following day , on Saturday, we went to eat and to my niece's purity ceremony at church. That was the first public place I had been since the loss. Most of the people didn't know I had lost the baby, well, I didn't lose him, he was still there, but wasn't alive. I pushed the thought out of my mind that I was carrying my dead child. I endured the night, and thank goodness shock was still in effect. I had people, tell me congratulations on the pregnancy.....I just politely said, "I lost the baby"...but I wanted to scream "I have my baby in me, but he is dead"....I didn't want nor did I feel happiness.
The next day was church, and I stayed home. I don't remember anything about that day. On Monday, the day before surgery, my friend came and helped me clean. Thank goodness for that. It was a great way to help me keep busy. It helped because I actually laughed that day. Later that night, I went to Ichiban with the family. I had craved it all along, but never could eat it. After we ate, we went home, and it I began to feel such a blanket of saddness come over me. Tomorrow is the day, I thought. I was up until really late that night, and would just sit there.
On surgery day, I woke up with a constant lump in my throat. We arrived at the hospital, and was called back rather quickly. I had a ton of support waiting in the waiting room, I just wish they could've made it better. As we were called back, our music pastor was there with us, and he prayed for me and the surgery. I walked into the pre-op room, and the nurse gave me the gown. I went into the bathroom, and I mumbled to myself "I hate this, I am not suppose to be here, I am suppose to be the nurse, not the patient, I can't believe I have to wear this thing,".....The staff were excellent. The anesthesiologist came in, we discussed my nausea, and he was going to give me the same medication I had been on. Then, my OB came in, and asked how my nausea was..I looked at him and said "Let's get this over with".. He didn't have much to say to me, and had his back to me most of the time signing my papers doing his thing. I was disappointed because I wanted him to fix it. I wanted to ask him so much, but didn't. I wanted to ask him.."Can you do another ultrasound to make sure", "Can you tell me what you see?"..."Can you tell if it were a boy or girl?". I just went with the flow though. Right before I went to surgery the nurse behind me, said "I know this isn't an easy day, but we are going to take good care of you." I began to cry, and cried all the way being wheeled to the OR..I just had so many thoughts going through my head..."I was thinking, They are about to suck my baby out of me.." I felt so powerless and out of control. I am suppose to be with it, I was that baby's mother, and I could do nothing to stop this process. All I could remember was the mask coming over my face in surgery, and then I woke up in recovery.
In the recovery room, the first words out of my mouth were "Where is the DR. , and did he see my baby?". I then came to, enough to realize that was an impossibility. I know he had to hurry to the office, but through this process he seemed so distant. I guess it becomes the norm, when you see it everyday. No one could really fix anything...I was alone pregnant and now I was alone without my baby. I wasn't alone physically, but emotionally I was alone. As I sat on the bed in recovery, I felt such a peace come over me, and I felt the Lord speak to me.."This is over, and you will be blessed again, you are blessed and highly favored."....and as quick as it came, it went. That was the first presence Of God I have felt since Day 1 of my pregnancy. I did well post op, and was sent home pretty quickly after surgery. I felt good physically, (hindsight says those were good drugs). I went home after surgery, and rested, but did my normal motherly tasks of helping Trenton and SArah do their homework.
The day after surgery, hubby stayed with me. I continued to feel so alone, even though he was there. We had a good day at home, and we ran some errands together. I was not prepared for what I was going to feel that night. It was bedtime for the kids, and I layed with them as hubby read the bible to them. After that, I went into our room, and crawled into our bed in a fetal position, and began to sob.....I had never cried so hard in my life. It was coming from my guts. Lloyd was beside me by then, I just kept saying "Why does this hurt so bad, I feel like my heart is ripped into pieces.."...Even through the death of my mother, I didn't feel this pain or emptiness.
The dreams I once knew have been ripped to shreds. I don't even know who I am anymore. I have so many questions that it would take a lifetime to answer. It hasn't been an easy road, and even being 4 weeks out from the loss, my heart hurts just as much. I have returned to work, and it has been a challenge on some days. It is like, at times, people have brushed my loss off as if I have passed a kidney stone. I didn't pass a kidney stone, I lost my child. In my heart as mother, I would dream of this child playing with my son and daughter. This baby was as real to me as they are because I had seen the dreams 2x before manifest.
I have been told that I should feel blessed because something could have been wrong with my child, and I wouldn't want it to be here sick. Yes, that is so true. It doesn't make it easier in the process. I have been told I should feel blessed that I have two others. Yes, and I thank God everyday, and it has made me cling to them tighter. I have been told, that the enemy would want to steal my joy. Well, you can't steal something that isn't there.
I am not so sure about this grieving thing, but it sure is not fun. I went to the doctor last week, and he said everything was fine. He told me that this is not uncommon, and that next time I would be treated like I was with this pregnancy. I am not considered high risk, that these flukes do occur. We asked him when we could try again, and he said anytime. That was the first time I had felt hope in almost 3 weeks....but then again I was scared at the same time.
I believed from day 1 that this baby was a boy. I know without a doubt. The day before I went to the doctor for the 13 week check, we picked a name for a boy....His name was going to be Aaron..The name means "Mountain of Strength"...So when my little boy died in my womb, I know I would need a mountain of strength to endure such a task at hand.
I feel like a failure at times because I don't know how to handle all of these emotions that I have. I am not the same me that I was 3 months ago. I know God is faithful, and my song these days is "The Anchor Holds"...I am a ship that is beaten so badly that my sails are torn, I have nothing left. I am stripped of everything familiar. I am a broken shattered mess. I know God understands all of this, and I have never been angry with him. I am just letting him be my anchor, and we are walking through this one step at at time. I am not sure of the reasoning, and I may never know. That is the mystery of this life. I just know that we will have answers one day.
I am doing the best that I can to handle this shaking. I have had to let go of worrying about other people's expectations on me. I have had to learn that when battles hit, that sometimes all you can do is "hold on".
If I had a picture of heaven right now, I would imagine that our God is so wonderful that he makes all things perfect. I know that my baby is in the lap of Jesus, and he is happy. He has never felt the sting of this life. I want him to know we loved and wanted him to a part of this family. I picture my mom holding and playing with him. I picture that when we get to heaven that she will meet me at the gate, and hand the baby to me for the first time. Wow. what vision and a reunion to behold. I don't know what heaven is like, but it is good to hold onto whatever gets you through.
It is a daily challenge for me to be around people. I struggle with things that once gave me joy. I struggle with the thought of going to church, I guess it is in those places where I feel most vulnerable. I don't like feeling exposed. I am numb in a lot of senses still, but I guess that will move on in time. I don't feel I need medication right now. I just need to be able to have time to move through this trial.
We are definitely planning on having another child. I have so many emotions about that. I am very reserved about going back into the doctor's office after the loss to start it all over again. I don't ever want to be in that situation again. I never want to be sitting on an ultrasound table again and be told my baby is not alive. I just have to hold onto the promise the Lord has given me, and know that the next one will be ours to see.
I spent the remainder of the week recovering, and I kept hoping the pain would go away.
