We knew it was a miscarriage before we got the official call. We knew as we were sitting in the dark room looking at a sac that we had seen so beautifully twice before, but this time it was empty. Like a black hole. We knew that the baby was not there, and we were so confused with God.
This baby. Completely unplanned. Completely a whirlwind surprise. We had gotten home from a family vacation to find out we were pregnant, and no one was more shocked than my husband and I. We had two beautiful and wonderfully energetic kids and we were VERY clear and content with being DONE having kids. We were even preventing it, except there is this thing... a warning on the side of the box that tells you that this way of protection is 99% effective. So we, we were the 1%. I called my husband after taking the pregnancy test and he laughed till he cried and I cried until I laughed. We couldn’t help but acknowledge that this was Gods’ plan, another reminder that we were not in control. It took a few days after being in shock to acknowledge that this was our new norm. We had given away every single item associated to a baby and had not a onesie to our name. We told our kids, told our families, everyone else was shocked and excited and slowly, we too started to wrap our heads around God giving us a third, unexpected, wonderfully surprising third baby. And we vowed to figure it out and embrace everyone’s else’s excitement. I felt awful, which I knew was a good sign. Ate pasta for every meal for a week because everything else felt like the equivalent of eating raw chicken. My boobs were so sore the shower hurt and Oh Lord..... my gut was growing waaaaaay faster with this one than my other two. Here we go I thought,… Our first ultra sound was scheduled for my birthday. I thought this was a perfect way to ring in my 31st year, seeing the heart beat of our baby. My husband met me at the doctors office and we walked in with excitement and joy. I got on the table like I had done many times before and couldn’t wait to see the little blink of the growing baby that had been making me so sick and so tired. The ultra sound tech was quiet. Taking lots of measurements. Asking if I was sure that I had pregnancy symptoms. I wanted to tell her to ask me what I would do if something grazed my nipple right now and my answer should give her hers. She said that she wanted to try an internal ultra sound because she was wondering if I wasn’t as further along as what I thought . Totally a possibility, I thought, because again, this was a total surprise and I didn’t keep track of anything. Again the quiet. The tech said too little as she searched and searched. All we saw was a sac, my gestational sac, completely empty. Like a black hole. The tech got up and said she was going to consult with my OB. This was new. The other two times we were here for this, this did not happen. I started to tear up, but husband held my hand and told me all the right things, but my heart was worried and my mind was racing. I don’t remember much about the conversation with my ob other than there were two options here; I was either or as far along as I thought and it was truly too early to see anything or I was having a type of miscarriage called a blighted ovum, where basically every thing was growing except for baby. All the pregnancy structures and hormones were there, but baby either stopped growing or never grew. So she explained the week of tests that I would need to endure and she ended the talk by saying, “Happy Birthday”. I lost it. Worst birthday present I’ve ever had. The next five days were full of worry, confusion, blood test, pokes, questions and peeing in cups. My pregnancy hormone numbers kept rising but not at the level in which they should have, but everyone around me cheered hope and positivity... but I was down right scared and skeptical. We went in for our second ultra sound a week later and saw the growth in every structure but then again our eyes focused on the big black hole. No flicker. We knew then at that moment. The ultra sound tech was so kind and easy to read, she had “I’m sorry” written all over her face and we knew even though she wasn’t able to say anything. We left with heavy hearts and praying for some weird miracle for this surprise baby. We would have to wait 24 hours for the official call from our doc. It was an awful 24 hours that finally ended with the answer that deep down we already knew. No baby. Blighted Ovum. The surprise baby that turned our world upside down was no more. My doctor explained what was going to happen next and gave me my options. One was to go in for a DNC, which she suggested, because of the structures that were continuing to grow and we so hormone based, of my body didn’t pass all of this in their entirety, the left over had high risk of turning into cancer. I told her to schedule to surgery through tears and she cried with me on the phone. I went home that day heart broken. 6 weeks before I was crying because I did not think a third baby was in my life plan and now I was crying because it was gone and I was devestated? I was so confused. The next part of this story is graphic and true and leaving it out would not fit the purpose of me sharing this journey which is to be real and honest with the reality of miscarriage, something that in my opinion is not openly talked about enough. So be warned before you read on... The next day was one of my favorite days of the year. I’m a teacher at a virtual school and orientation day was the day where all of our students met in one place to start the school year off right. It’s the day where I get to hug each one of my kiddos and I absolutely adore it. I was determined to go AND to have my bucket filled and not wallow in sadness, I could do that after my surgery, which was scheduled for the next day. I wore shorts and my school shirt as the heat already began to rise for the day. We were expected to have over 185 kids and their families arrive and I was at check in. I truly felt fine as I set up the name tags and check in paperwork. Students started to arrive and my face started to hurt from smiling so much. One of my favorite students ever came running up and wanted a hug. I stood up to greet her in all of her excitement and that’s when it happened. I had to fight to stay upright as the pain in my stomach took over and a warm rush of blood left my body, soaking in to the blue green chair beneath me and running down my legs, in front of all of these people and there was nothing I could do. Somehow I held it together, got to the bathroom and then absolutely melted down. I needed to go home but I was scared and sad and honestly in pain. My beautiful coworker and friend found me, helped me think through a plan and soon I was on my way home. I should mention here that my husband is a builder and on this day his phone was broken and I had no way of getting ahold of him. But I thought it was ok because sadly miscarriage is more common than many realize so I thought I could handle this. The problem was, I never had had a truly honest conversation with anyone about the physical pain and trauma that miscarriage entails. I had never really asked questions to anyone in my life that had been going through it and I hate that I didn’t take it more seriously with them. I got home and continued to bleed. Uncontrollable. Over and over I prayed the same prayer that I had been praying since the first ultra sound, “Equip me Lord. Equip me with what I need to navigate this.” The bleeding continued and I still couldn’t find my husband. I started to feel queasy and light headed as I was in the shower, not to mention absolutely disgusting and that is where I knew something wasn’t right. I was already scheduled for a DNC the next day but I thought I would call my ob and just ask some questions, I obviously had never done this before and never heard of this from anyone else who had in this much detail. Shame on me for not asking those around me more questions when they were going through it. The doctor told me to get to the er and that I couldn’t drive myself. Oh boy... I still couldn’t find my hubby and all of my go to people were gone. “Equip Me Lord…” Not even one minute later my sweet neighbor and friend called, knowing about the miscarriage and telling me how she wished there was something she could do for me. God is so crazy sometimes... I told her yes, I needed to go to the ER and I needed to find Chris. She put her hubby on a mission to find mine and he had four guys looking for him as she pulled into my driveway to be my personal super hero for the day. She has saved me many times before this so I shouldn’t have been surprised. She didn’t come on a white horse or on a chariot, but instead a mini-van full of kids. But to me, it was the same. As we drove the pain continued to grow but I ignored it as I was stunned by the people around me's willingnes to stop their day and help us. It was humbling and I didn’t feel worthy of it. We finally found Chris at a verizon store getting his phone fixed after calling verizone head quarters and an operator calling him to tell him his wife was having an emergency an emergency and needed to talk to him. I felt awful that this is how he was finding out. I told him to meet me at the ER and I would explain when we were together. As we pulled into the ER parking space a beautiful family with a newborn walked in front of us and were getting ready to take their new bundle of joy home. I couldn’t hold back my grief any more and neither could my superhero chafaure. She shouted, “WHY?! Why the timing of this? WHY now?” I sobbed as I stepped out of the car. As I checked in alone, through my tears, the check in nurse held my hand and said “I’m sorry” more times than I could count. She was an angel. I was wheeled back to the ER room where my husband met me and we wait to find out what was going to happen next. A handsome, young doctor came in with a wonerfully warm old school OB nurse and explained to us that we needed to stop the bleeding before we could go any further. Basically what was bleeding was not what was supposed to be bleeding and the end goal was to rid my uterus of what it needed to get rid of but in the mean time we needed to stop the other bleeding. Scared, in pain and so so sad, we said ok and they started bringing in the equipment. Long tubes and a big machine surrounded us and he explained the we were going to need to do a procedure with suction to get rid of what was interfering with us being able to see what we needed to. For whatever reason, the tubes had to go next to me and up over my head to where the contents were disposed of. I scooted down on the bed, vulnerable and mortified and so, so sad. The machine started and the most horrible sound echoed in the room. The contents of the vaccuum sucked through the tubes next to me and I sobbed, mourning what could have been. The doctor said “I’m sorry, is this uncomfortable for you?” and before I could answer, my wonderful nurse squeezed my hand and said “No! This is emotional for her!” Another superhero to my rescue. The procedure was awful, I still have dreams about it and I’m sure I will continue to. But it lead us to be able to have another internal ultra sound to see just how much I had passed naturally. The short story of a long wait basically showed that I didn’t pass all that I needed to and I would begin to be prepped for surgery. As I sat in pre-op, I had my book “Everybody Always” by Bob Goff. As I read I continued to cry. Continuing to ask the question “Why God? Why did you bring us here? To this surprise? Through the joy and now surrounded by confusion and pain?” I was wheeled down to surgery, put on the operating table, arms strapped down and I have never been more scared. Finally they gave me medicine to put me out and I woke up knowing that this was the official end of our summer surprise. The next days were awful and sad and painful and I was in a daze for most of them. As I finished “Everybody Always” I saw that Bob Goff, just like in his first book, left his phone number in the back for anyone who wanted to to call him. In a moment of bravery, I picked up my phone. To my surprise he answered. I couldn’t believe it. He was exactly like I thought he would be. I told him what the last few days had been for our family and he paused and said, “Mellissa. Your story is going to bless someone someday.” I couldn’t help but say his full name because I felt as if I was talking to one of God’s decibels; “Thanks Bob Goff!” This is why I am writing this. For someone who is going through something and feel alone. You’re not. For someone who went through something and maybe never had the words, maybe you can connect with a few of mine. For someone who needed to know that its ok to be confused with God, I am right there with you. This is just the beginning of this for us. We are just beginning to process this and have so much work to do. But I refuse to feel alone in it, because I know I am not. I refuse to hide the details of what I know will be a life changing moment for both me and our family. This isn’t just good to talk about its’ important because like what was said in church today, “Our lives are an earth recording of a heavenly message” and I have no idea what that message is, but for whatever reason, God needed me to get this message out today. I’m caring and carrying this one, that is for sure…. |
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