As we walked into the room for our ultrasound there was a heavy weight on my shoulders. For several weeks I have had an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. I don’t know why, but I truly believed something was terribly wrong. However, my husband, family and friends kept telling me to trust and not worry…so I did.
So before she began the ultrasound, I mentioned that we didn’t want to know the sex of the baby this time. She assured us that she would not reveal the sex and would tell us when to turn away. Then we began. Almost immediately I knew something was wrong.
The baby wasn’t moving.
Although I was only 18 weeks along, my babies move constantly from the moment they can. Just last month on the doppler we could not only hear the heartbeat, but also all the movement going on inside.
After she finished the first part of the ultrasound, she moved on to the anatomy portion. And that’s when she begin to ask questions.
When was your last appointment?
And they heard a heartbeat? Was that on a doppler or via ultrasound?
And everything was okay?
And that’s when I knew.
Our baby was gone.
Our baby was no longer growing inside me.
Our baby was now resting in the arms of Jesus.
A strange wave of relief washed over me. While I wanted the outcome to be different – so very different, it was nice to know the feelings I had experienced over the last few weeks were in some strange way validated.
The doctor was called in to confirm what the tech had seen and gave her condolences. She then left to consult with my personal doctor. We were asked to stop by their office on our way home to discuss the next step.
We left the office that day with no sweet pictures of our baby, only the image of the curled up fetus etched in my brain – forever.
The spine looked perfect.
Even the hands and feet looked perfect.
But the heart had stopped.
My baby was gone.
We drove to pick up our children from my cousins house, who was so gracious and kind to keep four crazy kids while we went to the doctor that morning. We left her house and started the hour drive to my doctors office.
All I had to do was speak my name and I could tell…they were “expecting me.” They were so sweet and kind. I didn’t wait long and was escorted back to a room. The doctor came in and we discussed the options available to me.
“There are three options, but only two I think are really viable for you.” She began. It seemed like a dream. I was still in a fog. I was supposed to be celebrating this growing, thriving life inside of me and anticipating the reveal of our newest child in just a few months. And here I was listening to how best to remove this once vibrant life from my body.
Now, I will tell you this is not our first miscarriage, but the others were fairly early in the first trimester, so these emotions were really new to me. While I felt a loss with each of them, this was different. We had passed the “threshold” of when it’s supposedly safe to tell people you’re expecting. We had announced it all over Facebook. Our family was getting excited and we had even received our first gift for the new baby – a blanket from my Mother-in-Love. The kids were getting excited and anticipating the day they would feel and see the baby move in Mommi’s tummy. And all that came to a screeching halt with one swipe of the ultrasound wand.
So today I will go to the hospital for surgery. A surgery that will remove our precious baby from my body. I will enter a pregnant mother and come home without a child in my arms. The recovery will be difficult, because my body will still recover in much the same way it would after a live birth. Only this time my contractions will not be comforted by the tiny baby nursing in my arms.
This time they will be empty.
This time I will cling to the other four blessings the Lord has entrusted to me.
It is in the One who sits on the throne.
It is in the One who spoke the universe into existence.
It is in the One who holds my tiny angel in his loving arms.
It is in the One who wraps His arms around me and comforts me during those sleepless nights to come.
It is in Jesus who gives me peace and comfort and HOPE in life everlasting.
I want you all to know that while I am deeply saddened by this news, I am not offended when people post pictures of their growing bellies and new babies. In fact, I find it comforting and encouraging. I am comforted in the fact that you did not experience the pain I have felt. And I am encouraged, because we serve a MIGHTY God and creator of life! So please, you will never hurt my feelings by posting pictures of your precious newborns or ultrasound pictures. Yes, there is a part of me that aches for my angel babies, but there is a greater part of me that rejoices with you and the new life God has entrusted you with. Motherhood is my greatest accomplishment and the hardest “job” I have ever held in my life. And I am thrilled you are now on this journey with me.
Blessings sweet friends.