Loss and memories

This is the hardest blog I have to write, but I feel like I need to write it; to get it down, to keep all the memories.  In my first three pregnancies I didn't journal very much and so many memories have vanished from me; when did I first feel movement; what was the food cravings for each; heart rates?  Little memories.  But this time, I have so little to remember -- I can't lose any of it so I have to write regardless of how hard.

We discovered this pregnancy on January 27th 2009.  Grace heard me laugh in the bathroom and came to discover what was going on.  I told her nothing was happening, I just needed to call Dad.  She kept following me and asking, begging me to tell her what was so funny.  I just looked at her and asked her to guess.  She guessed that I was pregnant and she was right.  I just smiled at her.  She let out a shriek of delight that I think every Mom would like to release when they see that "positive" sign.  She immediately ran to wake her little sisters and then all three of them were whooping and hollering and praising God and rubbing my tummy!  Grace got to the phone first and called Francis.  The three of them were all trying to talk at once and they were so excited none of them could speak coherently.  I just sat back and watched them rejoicing.  It took Francis awhile to get the information and then he was just a little stunned.  How could this happen when we have only weekends together?  Hmmm.  God is good, and His timing is perfect, and He blessed us with yet another tiny person to watch over.

On Wednesday, we went for the official blood work to be done.  The girls were beside themselves with joy and told EVERY person they could.  I had to restrain them to telling ONLY people who knew us.  Lydia woke the baby by singing "Rise and Shine" every morning and would come and kiss the baby-spot every couple of hours.  Ruth would just beam and hug my tummy every so often.  There was no doubt this child would be loved extravagantly.  After the blood work was finished we went to the library so Lydia could check out baby books.  She wanted to know how this baby was growing, where it was growing, and how it was going to get out.  She wanted books she could read to the baby while it was growing and she wanted books to read to the baby after it was here.  She was very eager to be a BIG sister.

I was at this point feeling very pregnant.  All the usual stuff, nausea, heightened smell, so tired I thought I wouldn't make it to dinner time.  I was also feeling pretty crampy.  Something I worried about, but wrote off to having caught the pregnancy pretty early.  On Tuesday the following week we got a call from the doctor.  The blood work had come in with very low HcG numbers, so low they were worried that the pregnancy might not be viable.  MIGHT NOT BE VIABLE.  Those are words no mom wants to ever hear.  We were sitting in the parking lot of Lowe's when I took that call.  Francis calmed me down, and I sent out a few calls for extra prayer.  We needed to go in the next day for another blood draw.  The HcG numbers needed to double every 24 hours.  We waited and we prayed.   The girls and I talked about how sometimes babies don't always get born; sometimes God takes them to heaven right away.  The response I got was "why?".  Why would God let a baby start to grow and then take her right back to heaven?  I didn't have an answer.

The blood work came back better.  The numbers were doubling like they should; they were still low, but they were doubling.  I still needed to take one more test to be certain.  We were set to test again the following Monday.  We felt so much better.  God heard our cry for this baby and He answered.  We all breathed a sigh of relief.  I still worried about the cramps.

Monday came and the HcG levels continued to climb.  The doctor was happy.  No more blood work.  They would see me at my normal 12 week check.  But the cramps; just mild not anything severe.  Maybe I was just old, maybe this was just because this was my fourth pregnancy, maybe I was crampy with the other three and I just didn't remember...I still felt pregnant.  I let that reassure me.  But something (the Holy Spirit?) kept nagging me.  I kept talking to the girls about babies that don't always get to come home to be with the family, babies that go home to be with God.  In retrospect, God was cushioning me, preparing me and my family for the final stage; for the loss of our baby.

I miscarried on February 23, 2009.  I carried our baby for just over seven weeks.  Again, God had everything arranged to carry us through.  The girls were supposed to go to the doctor for a routine check-up the 22nd.  As we were leaving, I noticed quite a bit of blood.  The nurse squeezed me into the girls' appointment and the doctor sent me straight to the hospital for an ultrasound.  A dear friend meet me at the hospital to watch the girls.  I sat in the waiting room wondering how long I had before my life changed.  I remember watching the clock, I remember seeing attendants come to the waiting room and begging God that they would not call my name, just so I could have this baby for a little longer; just so I didn't have to hear what I knew.  I tried to beg God, then I just asked Him to carry me.  Carry me down the hallway to the ultrasound room.

I saw our baby.  One little glimpse.  One little glimpse to last a life time.  They say it was a blighted ovum; that there really wasn't a baby just a growth that tried to trick my body.  "It is not your fault" the technician kept saying.  I knew.  

The girls came back to the room and I told them about our baby.  I told them that our baby went to heaven to be with Jesus.  I was so afraid to tell them.  They had been so excited.  I felt like I was letting them down; like I had failed them in some way.  But they were wonderful.  They fell on me with hugs and kisses and told me they loved me and that it would be okay.  God would love our baby and we could see her when we went to see Jesus.  God was carrying us.

Lydia stopped at the fountain in the lobby to throw some coins.  After she threw her coins she dipped her little hand in and came to me, looked up into my eyes and said we needed to baptize our baby.  She took her little wet hand and made the sign of the cross on my tummy and baptized our baby, then she reached up and reminded me of my baptism by making the sign of the cross on my forehead.  God was so present at that moment.  

I am not sure of the ride home.  I just know that shortly after we got home the cramping started in earnest and I lost our baby the next day.  The physical pain is over, but the hole that remains.... 

I don't want to forget.  I don't want to lose the memory of carrying this little person.  My whole body aches with loss, but God continues to carry me.  I can laugh with the girls, our life continues and it is a good and full life.  I know that God will take all this pain and use it for good.  I am waiting for the good.  I know it is coming.  I know that He will carry me to that place.  In the meantime, I wait.