So it's been awhile since my last post. We have had a lot going on in our family lately.
For those of you who don't know I had a miscarriage a little over a month ago. We were so excited to finally be expecting. We had been waiting until the time was right. I was about 13 weeks pregnant when we received the news that I had lost the baby. There were a lot of health and other kinds of complications that made these difficult during those first few weeks. I had what they call an incomplete molar pregnancy. I have been going in for weekly blood draws while the doctors monitor me and hopefully in a few weeks I will only have to do this monthly. They have told us we will probably have to wait three to six months before trying to conceive again.
I am a writer, its what I do, I'm good with words, but there are no words for what we have been through. I know many of women have been through this same thing and many families have experienced much worse, but I still wonder why this had to happen to our family. I don't really know what to say except that I am sad and disappointed.
I had a very special experience that I would like to share. When I was about 11 weeks pregnant I went in to see my doctor for my 12 week appointment. I was leaving town and would be gone for over a week so I scheduled my appointment early. This is the appointment that the doctor will try to hear your baby's heartbeat on a Doppler. My doctor tried for about 15 minutes with no luck to find a heartbeat. He then offered me an ultrasound because he knew that many women would become very worried that something was wrong. This was right in the middle of finals and I knew we didn't have time. Robbie and I both had classes in less than 30 minutes and I was leaving the next morning to go out of town. I told him that didn't have time and that I didn't want to do it without my husband. I then had this overwhelming feeling that everything was ok, that my baby was fine and I need not worry. Seems unfair, right? That what I thought right after I found out that I lost the baby two weeks later. I had lost my baby around 8 weeks and there were never any physical signs. It took a little time before I realized that I feeling I had received that day in the doctor's office was a gift. I was not lied to that day, but comforted and prepared for a time of grief that was coming up shortly. My baby is alright, he or she never had to come to this world and while I don't understand everything I know this baby is in heaven with our Heavenly Father. Everything is ok, life continues on and we can carry on with that grief and the love for that child that could have been.
I know many people think that at 8 weeks when my baby passed that he or she wasn't even alive yet. I am here telling you that that baby was, in fact, a baby and much more than an embryo. There was a feeling of life and I felt different. It was not just hormones, but it was the feeling of being close to heaven. I'm sure that many women who have had a child could explain this to you, even in those early weeks.
I'm sorry if this post made you feel uncomfortable or if you don't agree with the things I have said, but this is part of my healing process and, frankly, you don't have to read this. This is my safe, personal space. You are welcome to leave comments, but please only kind and supportive ones. This is not the time for political discussions. Please only leave uplifting comments.
I also want to thank all of the amazing people in my life who have helped Robbie and I. We appreciated all the great dinners and flowers and sweet words of comfort. We are truly blessed with some amazing friends and family. We love you all!
