As most of you read last week, we said goodbye to our sweet baby. In case you missed it, you can read the full story here. The hospital staff was so nice and very kind. They presented us with all the information we had to decide on and talk through in such a gentle manor. It was surreal to say the least. Before the surgery, the doctor came in and told us she was not sure she would be able to tell the sex of the baby or not. I had asked for more ultrasound pictures, just so we could show the kids that the baby had indeed grown and changed from the “peanut” they had seen before.
She was more than happy to get some more ultrasound pictures for us. I had also asked if there was any chance of getting a tiny set of handprints or footprints, but she said that wouldn’t be possible. I understood and was just happy she was going to get the last pictures of our precious baby. The only pictures we would ever have of our child. When my husband showed me the pictures, I was amazed. Amazed at how beautiful and perfect our tiny baby was. Amazed at how, even though handprints weren’t possible, the doctor was kind enough to get me a couple of pictures of those tiny hands. Hands that I will never hold in my own this side of heaven.
After the surgery, the doctor told my husband she believed our precious baby was…a girl. Another precious baby girl! I could hardly believe it when my husband told me. We were just sure it was a boy. Later that night I approached my husband about naming our baby girl. He wasn’t ready to talk about it just yet, which I understood and so we put it aside for a few days.
After the surgery, I was so weak and tired for most of the week that I just laid around. Having had several miscarriages and D&C surgeries before, I knew what to expect – or so I thought. But, something changed Saturday night. I started having more pain. Sharper pains. Pains that immobilized me. Pains that sent me to my knees when I bent over. Sunday they continued and I knew I needed to call the doctor.
I spoke with the doctor on call and she didn’t see a need for me to go in right away and that if I waited until Monday, I could see my doctor in the office. I had no more pain medicine, so I took Benadryl that night to help me sleep. I woke up long enough on Monday morning to call my doctor’s office and put in a message to the doctor for further instructions. And then I took more Benadryl and slept the morning away. The pain was so intense I could hardly manage to get up off the couch without extreme pain that shot through my body.
The doctor’s office finally called back and asked that I be there around 1:30pm, which was just about 90 minutes away. We live 30 minutes from the doctor’s office, so plans were put into motion to get the kids ready and head out the door. They ordered an ultrasound, which I did before seeing the doctor. She walked in and we talked about the pain I was experiencing, then she asked me to get up on the table. Upon further examination, her pushing around on the left side nearly made me come up off the table. The pain was excruciating. She then informed me that my uterus was completely full of blood. For whatever reason, I had not contracted the way I was supposed to and therefore, it had retained all the blood after the surgery.
I was then given two choices – take some pills to see if we could get the uterus contracting again or have another surgery. The last time I tried the pills I ended up having the surgery anyway, plus, we were planning to leave for Christmas that next weekend. So, we opted for the surgery. I was sent directly across the street to the ER to check in and get prepped. They also ordered a CT scan just to make sure the bleeding was contained to the uterus. And PRAISE THE LORD – it was!
While we were waiting on my turn to go into the OR, I approached my husband again about a name. I explained how I really felt the need to give her a name since we knew it was a girl. We had not given names to any of our other angels, but we didn’t know their gender. So, I really think that is why I felt so strongly that I needed to name this precious little one. Before I went back to the OR, we agreed upon a name.
I would like you to “meet” our angel daughter, Isabelle Faith. Isabelle means “God is enough or plenty”. So her name means – God is enough and faithful. And HE IS!!! God’s hand has been on me through this entire process and I have never felt alone. Even when I wanted to curl up and just cry, He was there holding me and comforting me – just as He always has.
The second surgery went well and I am doing much better this time around. We are praising God for His perfect timing and the name he provided us with at just the right time.