Saturday, March 28, 2015
We Have Our Own Angel Now
My husband and I spent several months praying for a third baby. We have always wanted a big family :) On New Years day 2015 we found out that God had answered our prayer. It was the perfect way to start the new year and we were beyond thrilled to see a little plus sign on the home pregnancy test! My pregnancy with our third little miracle was similar in many ways to my previous pregnancies but, just like the first two, had its own special nuances. My emotional state through the first three months was unpredictable to say the least. I was sad a lot (which I had been through my pregnancy with Violet as well) and I had very vivid nightmares about losing our baby, losing my girls and even losing my husband. I spent quite a bit of time trying to pray away the awful images of my nightmares. Phil and I were so thankful to be able to get pregnant and talked through what our future with three kids would look like. Would we finally get our little boy or would we be blessed with another beautiful little girl? We had our first doctors appointment on January 29th. Phil went with me and we were able to have a sonogram to confirm the pregnancy and see our third little one. There was a strong heartbeat and everything looked perfect. I was 8 weeks pregnant and praising God for this new life. I went back in at 12 weeks for a routine checkup and had all my blood work done. Our baby's heart rate was strong at 146bmp and the waistband of my favorite jeans was getting pretty tight :) All of my blood work came back great and I made the appointment for our 16 week checkup as well as our 18 week sonogram appointment (boy or girl?!). We were planning to announce our pregnancy officially after we found out the gender and I already knew just how we would do it. The anticipation was killing me! I was so looking forward to sharing our news with everyone, especially since my belly was becoming noticeable and I didn't want people thinking I was eating a dozen donuts for breakfast each morning ;) (Mmmm, donuts...). On March 26th, a Thursday morning while the girls where at school, I laid in room #8 of my doctors office while nurse Daphne (a precious woman) ran the Doppler over my baby bump. I waited impatiently for that beautiful "whooshing" sound that is music to a Mommy's ears but that sound never came. Nurse Daphne searched for a good three to four minutes while I made some awkward jokes to lighten the mood, certain that my baby was just being stubborn (as my children have been known to be). She turned off the Doppler and declared that I was going to get a sonogram and wouldn't that be fun! I hadn't planned on seeing our little miracle for another two weeks, at the gender reveal appointment, so I was totally on board with this idea. I tried to swallow down the sick feeling that was working its way up my throat. She wheeled in their portable sonogram machine and went right to it. There it was! My sweet little baby, perfectly formed and looking just like I knew it would. My heart began pounding faster as Nurse Daphne turned the machine away from my view and frowned at the images on the screen. She announced that she didn't like this sonogram machine anyways and informed me that we where going to travel down the hall to use "a better one" that she liked more. Then she said it. "But I don't see a heartbeat." What? No. That can't be right. I believe my exact words to her where "Shut up". I fell back on the table with my hands thrown over my face and there, in exam room #8, my nightmare became reality. I didn't cry, I just clutched my jacket to my chest (it's always cold in the doctors office, you know) and blindly followed nurse Daphne to the end of what seemed like an impossibly long hallway. Pregnant women were being escorted into rooms, other nurses where making eye contact with each other as they scooted around me and nurse Daphne was asking about the availability of another sonogram machine because she didn't know how to work the one that was available. I just stood at the end of the hallway. Scared. Numb. And the melody "even so come, Lord Jesus come" played over and over in my head. Nurse Daphne decided to give the available machine a try so I loosened my grip on my jacket, laid it across a chair and awkwardly climbed up on the exam table. As she dimmed the lights I remember her asking me if I had anyone here with me. No, of course I didn't! This was just supposed to be a boring checkup! I shook my head and nurse Daphne spent the next 10 minutes trying desperately to figure out the sonogram machine. She kept apologizing and I just kept assuring her that it was okay, which it wasn't. Nothing about this was okay. Every second that passed was more terrifying than the last. I started talking to God, asking him to let me keep this baby if it was at all possible. Nurse Daphne left the room. Then she came back in. Then she left again. I just laid there. "Even so come, Lord Jesus come" was on repeat in my brain. Poor nurse Daphne finally got the machine to work and I saw our sweet littlest one appear on the screen in front of me but our little miracle wasn't moving. No heartbeat. Our baby was dead. Another doctor that I didn't know came in to confirm what I already knew and that is when my heart shattered and the tears came. I've never known a hurt like that before. Dr. No Name started talking about how things like this just happen and assured me that it was nothing that I did or didn't do. Then they left me in the room. Just me and my dead baby. I spent the next few minutes on the floor of that room letting all of my hurt and fear spill out. After I was able to pull myself together enough to talk, I called Phil (who was in a meeting half an hour away) and told him that there was no heartbeat and that he needed to come to the hospital. Once Phil arrived at the hospital we made a plan to come back and meet with my normal OBGYN to discuss what comes next. I was told that based on how far along I was in my pregnancy that I would likely be put into labor and would deliver our baby. We went home and the first thing I did was take down my pregnancy calendar. I showered and we went to pick the girls up at school. The first thing Lilah (our precious four year old) asked me when I got to her classroom was "how's our baby?" since she knew I was having a checkup that morning. I started crying and took her into the hallway where I told her that our baby went to heaven. I held her while we both cried. On our way down the stairs we talked about how our baby was with her sweet cousin Rhett now and she told me that it was nice that they had each other to play with. We met my father-in-law at the hospital where he took the girls and Phil and I headed back in to meet with my doctor. They did another sonogram (this time nurse Daphne got to use the machine she liked) so Phil could see our perfectly formed, perfectly still baby. After discussing all of our options (there weren't many) we decided that I would have a D&E (dilation and evacuation) since it looked like our little angel stopped growing at about 14 or 15 weeks. I was thankful for this option, even if it made me want to throw up, because it meant that I wouldn't have to labor overnight. I was admitted into the hospital around 3:30pm and they started the IVs and blood work. They put me under general anesthesia at 6:45, the procedure was done and I was wheeled back into recovery at 8:15. Phil and I where able to go home that night. We requested that our tiny angel baby be set apart from the medical waste (since that is typically what they do after a procedure like that) so that we could have it cremated. Phil and I will be picking our baby up from the funeral home on Monday morning. At this time two days ago my world crashed around me and since then God has been piecing it back together. I am thankful for the time that I got to carry our baby and I treasure the fact that I will hold him or her one day. My heart is broken and I spend a lot of time with tears in my eyes but God is good. He was good on Thursday, He is good today, and He will be good tomorrow. Thank you for taking the time to read our story. I know that I am not alone in this and that many of you reading this have suffered the loss of a child. I love each of you and I pray that your heart is filled with the Holy Spirit. Romans 8:18 says "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us" and all I can say is AMEN!