There we were, about to undergo our first IUI, (intrauterine
insemination). My body had finally done
what it was supposed to do & I was inseminated. I had many nightmares during my two week
wait, and after each one I’d peed on a stick – negative. Too soon to tell but it helped ease the
anxiety. Another dream promised a
son. When the official test date finally
came it was still negative. I was
disappointed but I was OK. “God’s got
me” I said. I’d just landed a new &
important position at a very large bank & I knew it would be difficult for
me to focus/”kill it” career-wise if I was pregnant. I chalked it up to God’s plan & moved
on. Except, my period never came. 5 more negative pregnancy tests & 3 days
later I called the Dr. I went in for a
blood test then headed to the gym after.
Not 2 steps inside the gym I had results – It was POSITIVE. Omg.
Whuuuut. No, I’m reading this
wrong. Call nurse. Pace back & forth. Leave gym.
Nurse calls back – yes, positive!
Numbers a little low but still normal, continue retesting every other
day for the rest of the week.
TEARS. JOY. RELIEF.
EXCITEMENT. ANXIETY. *squeals*
C was astounded. It’s not that we
didn’t believe that God would fulfill His promise, we were just so used to
hearing Him say “WAIT” that we were almost afraid to get excited. Dude, I was giving my amazing, deserving husband
the greatest bday present EVER – my heart of hearts whispered “a son.” The days went on & I felt great. My boobs weren’t sore, no nausea & my
smile was goofy as ever. We discussed
plans to convert the man cave into a nursery, my walk in closet into OUR walk
in closet.
We were headed to the river with friends on Friday, C’s 32nd
bday & I would have to tell them since they would suspect when they saw me
beer-less. We stopped at the lab @ 7AM,
my #s hadn’t QUITE doubled but the nurse said it was OK & to just retest
Friday to be safe. I had to pee a lot on
the way to Parker. Right around Holtville
C started talking about plans for the backyard.
Saying he would build a playground & put a sandbox in for Boogs
& Bams to dig up with the baby. I
didn’t want to overwhelm him by talking about the baby nonstop (I’d secretly
started pinning baby shower themes & maternity outfits) but when I heard
him start to make plans & sound excited my heart was just SO full. My lab results came in, HCG level 67! Woohoo, it had TRIPLED since Monday! We’d just passed Glamis when the nurse
called. The way she said “heeey…” made
me instinctively hold my breath. She
said our baby wasn’t going to make it.
She said I was going to miscarry.
The normal HCG range for 5 weeks is 200-7000, I was at 67. I don’t know what I said back to her. I hung up the phone & sobbed through the
rest of California & all through Arizona.
I cried my full face of makeup off, which if you know me, is A LOT of
product to cry through. Between wails I
explained to C what she said. I was
devastated. Gutted. Frightened.
Would it hurt? She mentioned it
could be ectopic – would this mean I could ruin my one good tube?! Heavenly Father WHY?! I wanna go home. I want my Mom & I wanna go home & I
wanna be near a hospital. But I need to
be with my husband, and he is here. I
tried to bargain, tried to find a way to get out of it but there was no
point. He needed me as much as I needed
him & we were 30 mins away from an emergency room. The nurse said it could take weeks. I had to continue with the blood draws to
monitor my levels. The weekend at the
river consisted of me trying to put on a brave face as to not make anybody
uncomfortable as everyone was there to party & it had been planned for
months. When nobody was looking I would
sneak away & crawl under the covers & read scriptures while I did my
best to keep my wailing quiet. I hated
that this awful news had tainted C & I’s “happy place” – the place we plan
to retire. I did my best to have a good time but neither of us really wanted
to be there & although we have very awesome, understanding friends, I just
needed to be myself. I was starting my
new job on Monday, how was I supposed to bring my ‘A’ Game LIKE THIS?! We drove home in about 4 hours of mostly silence. He kept his hands on my leg, my neck, my face,
my head, my hand. I read Psalms. “Those who sow in tears shall reap in
joy.” When we got home I went into “go”
mode. I cleaned, unpacked, got ready for
Mega Monday & then my sweet mother stopped by to drop off mole. The food of the Aztec Gods. I figured now was as good a time as any &
I told her that I got pregnant but it did not appear that I would stay
pregnant. She got out of her van &
she prayed for me, in the street, in front on my house. This woman, who lost 3 babies, all my younger
siblings was about to go through it AGAIN with her grandbaby. I could not even speak. I was exhausted & sorry & done.
That afternoon I bawled in the shower. I came out into the living room looking like
the Llorona & I researched ‘what to expect when you’re expecting…’ a
miscarriage. I tend to read a lot to try
to prepare myself for a lot of different situations but I did not know how to
read my way out of grieving. I told C
that I was going to lay down for a bit. I
read Job (pronounced like “Joe” with a ‘B’ on the end). The Bible says Job had it pretty bad then God
rewarded & restored him. I chose to
read about Job bc I knew that despite his suffering he never ONCE cursed
God. I have a tendency to shake my fist
at God & I wanted to ensure that I did not grow angry or bitter, or drink
my way through grief they way I did when I found out I was infertile. After about an hour C came into our bedroom
& laid with me. He held my face in
his hands & let me cry, he asked me what I learned reading Job &
reassured me that he understood what I was feeling & that he was upset
too. He said he knew I needed to be by
myself to find peace & trying to hold it together in front of 9 other
people all weekend had depleted me emotionally.
He said that I was enough for him & that he loved me just as I
am. He said I would go to my new job the
next day & kill it, like I always did & that he believed in me.
The next morning I woke up with the puffiest eyes I’ve ever
had. No all nighter, no 3 day bender, no
loss had ever caused me so many tears. I
drew my eyeliner a bit thicker to distract my new boss & colleagues from
the swelling & since they’d never met me with my typical hooded eyes they’d
be none the wiser. Monday & Tuesday
I again wept during my nightly shower.
My mom visited every other day for a week & every time
she came she instinctively brought me
something I needed: comfort food. Mole, albondigas, rice & beans, cake,
salad (cuz you know, ya gotta balance it out).
Obvie I ate my feelings. She let
me spew hours of emotions on her between bites & she gave me sound advice
& every night she hugged me, kissed me on the cheek, told me she loved me
& said “don’t give up on your dreams mija y que Dios te bendiga.”
On Wednesday morning the bleeding began & I was
frightened at how much of it was coming out.
That night C took me out to dinner to the same spot that we had our
first date. When I asked why he said “Because
we can” & as I stared at my menu I thought about all of our friends who were
tucking their babies in & wondered if any of them would trade places with
us. There are benefits to not having a
baby but do the pros outweigh the cons?
I chose to not torture myself with hypothetical questions, ordered a
double IPA & decided to live in the moment.
I passed the baby the next morning. I had a strong cramp while brushing my teeth
& I ran to the toilet & sat there pushing & praying for 20
mins. I prayed for strength, courage
& power bc I did not have time to deal, I had to go to work & I did not
have the luxury to cry. I opened the
bathroom door & had a clear line of vision to C who was sitting on the
couch looking directly at me with his eyebrows raised, forehead wrinkled &
mouth grimaced. “I am pretty sure I just
passed the baby” I said as I choked back tears “& I don’t have time to
deal!” His expression fell as he turned
his face away. He flinched. C, My Rock was shifting & I had to gut
this one out for the both of us. When
Friday came I’d decided that I would hike on Saturday. Hiking makes me happy. Hiking allows me to be by myself, listen to
music, challenge myself physically, be in nature & pray when I reach the
summit. It took me twice as long to get
to the top. I had to stop several times
on the way up. My salty tears mixed with
my salty sweat the whole way up. I was
completely used up. I made it home just
in time to get a good scolding from C. On
Sunday I was physically exhausted, my womb was sore & swollen & every
pang reminded me of my baby. After the
Chargers lost (AGAIN) I went from room to room trying to figure out what to do
with myself to snap out of this deep blue abyss. C said I was acting weird. I dug out my paint supplies & my last
canvas. I’d been saving it for when I
thought of something really cool to paint but this was now the equivalent of
smashing open the glass that encases the fire hydrant during a blaze. I had no words to write yet but I had color,
and that release was enough to get me to Monday.
The nurse confirmed with my last lab that I had indeed miscarried
the previous Thursday. I was still feeling
some bloating & discomfort to which the nurse responded firmly with “NO
HIKING OR HEAVY LIFTING FOR THE REST OF THE WEEK.” With each day that passed the bleeding
tapered & so did the hysterics. I’d
have one good day, one bad day & so on & so forth. Friends would text to catch up or make plans
but I did not have it in me to socialize – I was barely adulting. I finally came to bed midweek & announced
that I’d made it though my shower without crying & was beginning to come to
terms with God’s plans for us. I still
struggle very deeply for several reasons. 1) C & I have been trying to have
a baby for nearly 5 years & we have never come so close 2) we believe life
begins @ conception & therefore I believe my little 5 week old nugget had a
soul. S/he had all the beginning layers
that would form his/her organs & therefore I … 3) I questioned every single
thing I did the previous 5 weeks that could have caused this loss: did I overeat, lift too heavy, sit down too
abruptly, stress too hard, exercise too much, was it that glass of wine with
anniversary dinner? Am I just too
old? Am I just undeserving? I could go on forever.
Ultimately though, I know in my heart that I have a loving
& forgiving heavenly Father that 1) hears our prayers & petitions 2) is
holding our baby in His arms until we meet again in Heaven & 3) no, there
is nothing I could have done differently, 15-20% of known pregnancies end up in
miscarriage. It’s hard to absolve
oneself of responsibility though when your first duty as a mom is to protect
your baby & the word “miscarriage” in & of itself almost places blame
on the mom. For MIS-CARRYING. Carrying incorrectly. As if we truly had control.
Anyway, I know I am not alone in this & my miscarriage
is not unique. My mind understands &
reasons, my heart & soul aches for my baby.
I am now a mom, I just don’t have my baby with me. I know that my loss does not equate with
other women’s losses who have had multiple miscarriages, many much further
along or who have had to bury their babies young & old but something inside
me is prodding at me to share my mess(age) with you & so here I am,
spilling bloody, heavy guts.
In this crazy world we live in, filled with hate, racism, election
coverage, protests, murder, killer clowns, where people are ill & don’t
have access to food/water/shelter – in this real life world my loss is but a
speck in the universe – but when I cry out to God I know He hears me. He hears everyone who cries out to Him in
their suffering, their loss, frustration, fear, weakness, illness, poverty,
hunger, anxiety, need. And I KNOW He’s
GOT ME & I am doing my best to live & walk in that knowledge. And He hears you. He hears us even when our grief is so great
that we cannot form words, only groaning amidst tears. I want to apologize to you for not being
“present” lately & possibly in the near future as I take time to heal. I am sorry if I bail on you last minute – I
am simply using up all of my energy to power through my day to day &
sometimes being a good friend is the last thing on that day’s list. I am doing my best to not withdraw
completely, although I want to – because I know that’s not what God intended
for us – we are meant to be in fellowship & I am doing my best to socialize
& not drink too much & not feel too much in front of anyone. It’s not pride. It’s effort.
I know some of you have wanted to ask how I am doing but
have not found a way to ask without hesitating out of fear for making it
awkward or upsetting me – thank you for asking, I wholeheartedly appreciate it. Some of you might be wondering why I didn’t
tell you. The truth is, I just couldn’t. I wasn’t ready. I know you understand where I am coming from,
some of you firsthand. When I realized
that I could not get pregnant naturally my silver lining was that at least I
would not have to go through a miscarriage as I did not find myself to be
strong enough to cope. But the Lord has
strengthened me & brought me to & through this in the same way that He
brought Job through great loss, Jonah out of the whale – though desert, blood,
blubber, mistakes, & prayer I will
overcome & in His name I will be restored – mind, body, heart & soul. If you ever find yourself in a
hole/whale/desert you cannot climb your way out of, trust Him, He is good, all
the time & He’s got plans to prosper you & He’s GOT you.
➡
🖤✝
