A bump in the road

Every now and again you hit a bump in the road. Sometimes there are multiple bumps in a row and other times they are spaced out. And sometimes those bumps seem more like boulders rather than little speed bumps. Sometimes they are worth mentioning and sometimes not.

Recently our little family hit a bump in the road. It was one of those boulders. It came out of nowhere and hit us hard. I have contemplated whether or not this bump in the road was worth mentioning to all of you in blogland. Let's face it, not everything in our lives gets put on the blog. Don't most of us scan over the pictures we post to make sure they are blog-worthy and only show the best ones? While I have loved every minute of having my blog since it is a journal of our family, I also realize that it is public. People read this journal of mine and as a result I censor certain things. But public as it may be, it still is my blog and it is still for the purpose of writing down the memorable things in life whether they are funny, happy, silly, embarrassing, or even sometimes sad.

And this is one of those sad times. If you don't want to read about some of my more deeper feelings and struggles, I understand. Stop here. But since writing has a way of being therapeutic for me, I feel compelled to do just that: Write a little story about our bump in the road. So here it goes.

About this time, maybe after the excitement of Thanksgiving was over, I was planning to write a cute little post written by Alayna that sported a picture of her wearing a darling little shirt that said "Big Sister." She was ready to make the announcement, even though she didn't have any idea that she was making one, but that's beside the point. It was going to be too cute for words...but then we hit that bump.

Things were going great. I seriously couldn't believe how great I felt. I didn't know that you could be pregnant and feel this good in the first trimester. I mean people that don't have "all-day-sickness" as I like to call it, really have it made. Things were fine. We were good. But I kept having an uneasy feeling every now and again. Most of the time I think I was just paranoid because I was feeling so good and that was foreign to me.

Our first appointment was scheduled. We were ready. I was excited and nervous. Then we got to the ultrasound. Things were quiet. Too quiet, I remember thinking. The doctor wasn't saying anything. She just sat there. Should I say something? Dan and I kept looking at each other. Finally the doctor commented that there was nothing to worry about. They had my blood work. Things looked fine, I just wasn't as far along as they had originally thought. She wanted me to come back every week for the next couple of weeks and get my blood taken so they could check my hormone levels. This was nothing new to me. I had been in there quite a bit to get my blood drawn. No biggie. Then in two weeks I would have a follow-up ultrasound and we would go from there.

Dan and I talked about our experience on the way home, commenting on how different it was from our experience with Alayna. But the doctor was different, and I was farther along when I had my first ultrasound with Alayna. The doctor was way more stand-offish this time and we blamed everything on that. She just wasn't a talkative, friendly lady. That's why she was so quiet. But again, I worried. There was that gnawing feeling.

Two weeks passed. I went in for all my blood drawings. And now here was the big day. I was scared and nervous. Just the day before, I had started to spot a little, but I kept telling myself everything was ok. Sometimes that happens in normal pregnancies. The doctors will tell me what to do. Dan and I discussed it and had decided to just have me go. Alayna was supposed to be down for a nap and I really felt like I could go alone.

I drove to the doctor's office praying. I had been praying a lot lately. Praying that I would be comforted no matter what the outcome was. Comforted in the fact that He knows best and knows what I can handle. Looking back, I know the Lord was preparing me. Every time I felt that gnawing, uneasy feeling, it was His spirit comforting me and preparing me already. The Lord knows I am a planner and knew that I needed that preparation from Him.

Walking into the ultrasound room I prayed even harder, that I would be at peace with the outcome and that He would carry me through. The doctor (thankfully a different, nicer doctor) came in and had the ultrasound up on the screen within seconds. Then immediately started saying, "Just know, there is nothing that you did that made this happen." What?! "You are not to blame. Things just weren't right." Within minutes we were discussing ways to deal with my miscarriage. I was having a miscarriage. I was eight weeks along.

She gave me my options and suggested I call my husband to decide. I was just trying to keep it together and remember all that she told me. I knew the second Dan picked up the phone, I would lose it. And I did. There was no easy way of telling him that our dreams of welcoming a new little one in the next seven months were dashed. All I could say was, "We lost the baby." and sob. He did too. Once I could gain my composure I then went on to tell him about our options. We decided to do a D&C (surgery) since we were supposed to be making a 1000 mile trek in less than a week.

The rest is a bit hazey. They hurried me off to consult me about the surgery, but all I could think about was keeping it together and not melting into a puddle of tears. I made it through though because the Lord did just what I asked Him to: He carried me through. I speed walked my way out the of the office to the car so no one would see me have my melt down. And with tears streaming down my face, I somehow made it home into the arms of my loving husband.

We cried.

But the Lord truly comforted us. Two days later I had the surgery. My family was amazing. They helped watch Alayna, cleaned our apartment, delivered flowers and candy and so much more. And Dan was unbelievable. He finished packing the entire apartment, loaded the moving truck, cleaned the apartment, took care of Alayna and did whatever else I needed. The day after surgery we loaded up our things and stayed at my parent's house 'til moving day which was two days away.

Then we left for our big adventure. With 20 hours of travel time, I had plenty of time to reflect.

And this is what I know: Though lots of people go through similar experiences, it doesn't make it any less painful or personal. While it is a painful experience, both physically and emotionally, spiritually the Lord has comforted us beyond belief. He does answer prayers and He truly has carried us through. We know we will be better because of this experience, more empathetic to others. And we know that we can move on and while a part of me will always ache for the baby that could have been ours, we know that this was meant to happen. It is the best for us. The Lord knows why we needed to go through this and we will someday be blessed with another baby to care for.