No Heartbeat

No HeartbeatThose words I had heard before.  Those words I knew I might hear again.  No heartbeat.

Just over eight weeks pregnant and at my first prenatal appointment with only my sixteen month old son.  This last Thrusday was to be a busy day with doctor’s appointment, errands, picking up kids, and heading to the first night of Blissdom, a conference for bloggers.  My husband was taking off work early so that he could be with the kids while I went to the conference which is why he wasn’t at the doctor’s appointment with me.

So as I lay there with my baby screaming in the stroller on the floor beside me, I watched photos from the ultrasound being projected on the monitor.  Having done this so many times, I could tell right away that things did not look right.  I hoped that I was wrong.  The camera in my mind went instantly to how excited my husband’s face had been when we found out we were pregnant again.  “I’m okay,” I told myself.  I had to be okay.  My crying boy needed me.  I had so much to do.  I chose not to grieve.  I chose not to let myself feel.

My doctor confirmed what I already knew to be true from the ultrasound.  Though I had been carrying a child, it appeared there was no longer life.  I held myself together through the rest of the appointment, as I made phone calls, broke the news to my children, and got ready to go to Blissdom.  I didn’t have time to think, to feel.

It was a busy afternoon and evening of meeting so many people from the blogging world at the conference.  I didn’t tell people.  It didn’t seem appropriate.  It was late when I arrived home and I fell into bed.

The next morning I woke up early to make it back for the day’s sessions.  I was exhausted, but enjoying myself immensely.    Toward the end of the day I went to a photography session.  I relaxed in my chair after a full, tiring day ready to be entertained again.  Photos of newborn babes brought tears to my eyes, but I was fine.  And then the speaker flashed a photo of a NICU baby on the screen.  All I heard him say was that the baby was 1 and 1/2 pounds.  I wasn’t even thinking about myself or my situation.  I had pretty much blocked it out.  But at that point an involuntary sob heaved from my body.  It was out there before I knew it was coming.  With one hand I grabbed my things.  With the other I covered my mouth, and I ran from the room.  In the hallway I was thankful for a friend who comforted me as I sobbed uncontrollably.  You can’t always choose when to grieve.  I went home and spent the rest of the day with my family.

God has taken another baby home.  I really am okay.  It is still sad because life is precious, but I am content to remain a family of seven if that is the Lord’s will.

If you are a prayer warrior: I have another sonogram next Thursday to confirm that our baby is gone.  But please pray for me as continuing to carrying a baby that has died is tough.  I still feel pregnant.  I’m still nauseous.  So here again I am waiting for my body to miscarry, and Lord willing would really prefer that to surgery.  Thanks so much.

Important UpdateSigns of life at second ultrasound!

I’m linked with Baby Link-Up, Intentional Me, Raising Homemakers, Simply Helping Him, We are that Family, WholeHearted Home, Women Living Well, Heavenly Homemakers, Titus 2 Tuesday, Time Warp Wife, What Joy is Mine, Mama Moments, Covered in Grace, The Better Mom, and Miscellany Monday.

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