When I was pregnant...

I have so much trouble saying that out loud....

I feel like a liar when I say it...

when I write it.

And I've been putting off writing this post for.... for way too long. I'd sit down and start writing and I would allow myself to be overcome with shame... embarrassment...

because those 10 weeks don't count to some people. 

I know because they told me....

in posts supporting abortion, or articles about 'fetuses' and how they're not really babies, and in the look on their face when I mention my own short pregnancy.

Maybe I was 'only' pregnant for 10 weeks... maybe that doesn't 'count' to some people... maybe my experience was short-lived and incomplete...

but our baby?

He/she was real... living and moving inside of me ... he/she was loved and wanted and his/her life meant something to us... Meant something to our village... Our people.

So, here's our story... the one I need to write, for me... and the one I think so many need to read, for them. 

But if you're one of them... one of those people who is responsible for making me feel ashamed or embarrassed when I talk about 'when I was pregnant'... then you can just move on...

you're not welcome here... in our baby's story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I was pregnant...

I wasn't 'late' yet but I knew something was different... of all the tests I've taken and of all the symptoms I've make-believed over the past 8 years and of all the days I've counted... I still knew that this one was different. I was tired.. exhausted. 

And that was it.

The kids were napping and I'll be honest, I was bored. The Sex and the City marathon was getting old... I'd already seen every episode. So I took a test. 

I texted my mom a picture... "WTF?!?!"

(Sorry.)

Her reply? "What is that?!"

Me: "I don't know! What is it?!"

Mom: "I'm the WRONG person to ask... I've been pregnant ONE TIME and we didn't even have those tests back then!"

So I texted a friend... "WTF?!?!"

(Sorry.)

And when her name popped up as an incoming call in a matter of seconds, I knew for sure...

I was pregnant.

I woke the kids up and ran to Target to get a dummy test because, well...

I'm a dummy.

Still pregnant.

I've always dreamed of how I would tell my husband that we're pregnant... sweet shirts for the kids, balloons at work, a cake, dinner made entirely of 'baby' food...

All he got was a sobbing me, covered in snot, and shaking.

(You're welcome, sweetie ;-))

When you've tried for 7 years and 'can't' get pregnant, you have no need for an OB... I've never had one. My internist confirmed my pregnancy and referred me to an OB who could see me in 6 weeks... so I called around and found one who could see me the next day.

Type A. Remember me? :-)

When I look back on those 10 weeks, what stands out to me are the dozens of gifts that God gave to us... memories and mementos of our precious #3....

My over-reaction (not an entirely new thing for me)? My insistence that I see someone NOW?

This time, it was a gift.

Joey and I were able to see our beautiful, precious, perfect #3 three times in the 'short' 10 weeks that we had with him/her. I've learned that this is more times than most people are allowed to see their baby in complete pregnancies.

The ultra-sound pictures?

Gifts. One's I will cherish for the rest of my life.

So much happened in 10 weeks... 

Everyone feels differently about when to announce a pregnancy... some wait until their first ultra-sound (which for us would have been 6 weeks), some wait until the end of their first trimester, and some wait until their gender ultrasound...

We've had so many 'secrets' to keep in the past; secrets that kept us from getting the encouragement and support and prayer that we so desperately needed when tough things came up.

So this time? This time we didn't hesitate.... we wanted the world to know about our precious #3!

The memories we have of telling Hannah about her newest baby brother or sister....

another gift.

We enjoyed every second of telling our closest friends and family... and we got every reaction in the book; dropped phones, dead silence, disbelief, even momentary anger that we would 'make something like that up'... and ultimately, dozens more people who shared in our joy and amazement at our third miracle.

The 'announcement party' we threw for some out of town family when we visited... those memories and pictures?

Gifts.

The changes in my body... both temporary and permanent... all daily reminders of the life that was inside of me... all ways in which our sweet #3 has a presence in my daily life...

Gifts.

The family photos I came so close to canceling...

 

Gifts.

Those 10 weeks passed too quickly... If I could freeze a moment in time, I would pick any day out of those precious weeks just to capture Hannah's excitement at becoming a big sister, yet again... Hunter's pure naivety... our parents' joy... my husband's eyes...

frozen.

But...

'That day' was terrible.

 We knew about a week before that something was wrong. I'd been seen a couple times that week just for our peace of mind, and each time we saw our healthy, growing baby...

Gifts.

... still, we knew something wasn't right.

I don't know what it was about the hours leading up to that moment...

in hindsight, I know God was preparing me as best he could.

My fervent prayer ....

"Heavenly Father... If our baby is gone.... if this is over... please tell me before. Somehow, someway... please. Let me know... please just let me know."

Over and over again.

Looking back, I guess I already knew... because if I hadn't, my prayer would have sounded different... more hopeful.

And it's not that my hope was gone... it just wasn't in my 'now'... In that moment.

"Choose joy", people say.

It's my least favorite line.

Sometimes, you can't choose joy. Sometimes God's silent tug at your heart trumps any chance we have to choose joy...

It was his way of answering that prayer of mine...

It was his way of preparing me. His way of telling me.

I remember walking into the ultra-sound room;

Joey's mom had come with us that morning... my mom had come to our previous appointment and we wanted his mom to see her next grand-baby, too. Joey and his mom sat down next to the table and I went into the bathroom to change into a gown. I remember locking the door and standing with my back against it...

"Lord, please. Tell me now."

And he did.

In a matter of seconds, the bleeding started and I knew...

our baby... our precious #3...

 was gone.

I dropped to the bathroom floor...

I was completely overwhelmed. I was crushed... the pain, physical and emotional, was unbearable.

 I was overwhelmed with gratitude... He did answer my prayer... He told me, just like I asked him to...

and he had given me a few precious minutes to prepare myself for what I'd soon not see on the ultra-sound screen.

Those few minutes were another gift.

I changed into the gown... not an easy task when you're bleeding...

I was terrified...

I opened the door and found Joey's eyes immediately....

my eyes told him.

I told the nurse what had happened and layed down on the table.

Joey took my hand as the nurse probed...

We had seen our #3 enough times that we knew what we were seeing as the ultra-sound progressed...

So we knew what we weren't seeing, too.

This same nurse had done our previous ultra-sounds and she had become a familiar face, a comfort to me, and I didn't want her to have to say it... So I did...

"There's no baby."

The sweet nurse and Joey's mom left us alone for a few minutes as we sat in a heap on the ultra-sound table... I remember feeling paralyzed.... broken.

I told Joey I was sorry...

it wasn't an "I messed up" or "I did something wrong" sorry...

It was an "I know your heart is broken and I want so badly to make it better" sorry.

I don't remember much else from that day... we met with the doctor, scheduled my D&E for the next morning,  drove home...

we sat down with Hannah and explained to her that our baby had gone to Heaven... that Jesus wanted him/her to be with him and that we'll be able to see him/her one day...

And that was all I could handle. I went to bed.

Joey's mom was our rock that day... my heart broke for her, too. We had wanted so badly for her to see our newest miracle. She was quiet and caring, giving us the space we needed while letting us feel comforted by her presence... and when we got home, she and Joey's sister were 'me' that night when I couldn't be... and they helped Joey be him, too. Their support stretched into the next day, too...

The next day? I talk about it here.


Our #3 is gone...

but our #3 isn't far.

The memories flood in every day... my body reminds me of those 10 weeks daily... our sweet girl misses 'our baby' weekly.

People say that the pain goes away... but it doesn't.

Joy and thankfulness can overshadow the pain but it always creeps back in. You find ways to numb it... ways to hold on tightly to the tangible... but you still ache for the intangible.

I'm still learning how to 'do' this life without our #3...

I'm learning how to slowly open my heart back up to God's plan for me... This part of his plan wasn't ok with me... and I've learned that It's ok to be angry with his plan.

I'm learning that miscarriage feels the same for every woman.... it's devastating and excruciating.

I'm learning that what comes next is not the same for every woman... the weeks and months 'after' don't bring always renewed hope for everyone...

And I'm learning how to find hope in His plan, instead of getting lost in what's missing from my 'now'.

And against everything in me that tried to avoid it, I'm learning how to deal with our infertility once again... a process that took me years... and might take me years more.

I'm learning that my pregnancy changed our infertility status in many peoples' minds... but it hasn't changed in mine.

I'm learning how to pray again... because answers to prayer that come in the form of pain and grief make future prayers more difficult to pray.


I've already learned that, Joey and I... our hearts might shatter.... but we never will.

I've learned that our precious girl is a source of strength and faith for me... an example of the purity of youth and the trusting heart of one of God's most eager learners.

I've learned that my plans are sometimes imagined... made up of the desires of my heart.

I've learned that God's plans feel concrete in the moment.... But look flexible and forgiving in hindsight.

Our due-date is close... 

In the next few weeks we will help a couple of our most precious friends ... Friend who cried with us and prayed for us so many times... We'll help them welcome their new babies... 

And that will be amazing.

And it will be hard, too.

But those babies? I love them already. They symbolize the parts of God's plan that are life-giving and life-sustaining.

And in the next few weeks, I'm going to need those reminders.

I can't wait to meet them!

And our #3....

I'll keep learning and changing and loving my precious #1 and #2 until I get to meet my #3...

And that part of God's plan, I'm ok with.