Those 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 Update: Signs 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.