(If you’d like to start at the beginning go here Part1: No Early Warning Signs.)
I went to see my doctor on October 21st, excited to see the first sonogram of our baby. I was in the office with my husband and two youngest children. We were all looking expectantly for the picture of the baby on the screen. I have seen many sonograms, and from the first I thought it didn’t look right. The nurse kept trying different angles and measuring over and over as if she was just willing the baby to be alive. There was no heart beat and no evidence of blood running through the baby at all. It was such a shock. I was still very nauseous in the mornings and had absolutely no sign that things were not okay. The baby appeared to be eight weeks old and I was ten weeks along, so the doctor thought the baby probably died two weeks before, but she said she couldn’t be sure.
What went through my mind was, “God is good, and I may never understand, but He is in control, and He is going to work all of this out for my good and His purpose.” You know, out of all five pregnancies, I think this was the first time that my husband came with me to the first appointment. Even at the initial moment of shock and disappointment, I remember being very thankful to God for sending my husband with me. I am so glad that I didn’t have to face the news alone! Jason was so sweet. He took me out to lunch and was patient as we talked about our options. I chose to wait two weeks before going back for another sonogram in hopes that I would miscarry at home and not have to go in for surgery.
I called my mom and told her and asked her to please call the family for me. I just couldn’t bear the thought of explaining it all over and over. When I got home I wrote a note of the details and posted it on Facebook, and then I emailed a few people that weren’t on Facebook. I wanted everyone to know. I wanted everyone to pray. I didn’t want to face anyone asking me how the pregnancy was going and having to tell them that my baby died. I preferred that everyone already knew. I was unprepared for the overwhelming response of people that wrote or called and let me know they cared. My four-year-old wanted to comfort me too. She said, “It’s okay Mom. We can get another baby.” Aw. I really didn’t want to talk to anyone, but every single comment and kind word meant so incredibly much to me! I was relieved that people knew. I was comforted that they were praying. I was not alone.