It was twelve weeks that I carried our baby, but I know he or she did not live that long. I had mixed feelings when I found out I was pregnant, excited about another little Irish baby running around, but from experience knowing I might never get to meet the little life growing inside of me, at least not on earth.
I struggled with my feelings because even if I didn’t get to hold this baby, it’s still a life and life is precious. But I dreaded another possible miscarriage, and I knew that with my age and history another miscarriage was a strong possibility.
I tried not to dwell too much on the pregnancy knowing that I couldn’t do anything about the outcome, but I still caught my self dreaming sometimes and dreading others.
The pregnancy felt very different from my other pregnancies pretty much from the beginning. Instead of my usual nausea in the mornings, I felt very sick in the evenings. “Every pregnancy is different,” I repeated to myself many times. Maybe everything was okay.
I put off the first prenatal appointment. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t want to see that ultrasound. I didn’t want to hear that there was no heartbeat.
And then about two weeks before my appointment I quit feeling pregnant. The nausea was no longer there. I felt too good. I think God in His mercy let me know the baby was gone. I just knew.
Then the day came for the appointment. It was great to have my mom with me. As I walked in, I recognized the sonographer who had done the sonogram the first time I was told there was no heartbeat. It was such a shock that time. I was devastated. I remember how nice the sonographer was and how bad she felt for me. I didn’t want to do that to her again. As we walked to the room, I told her that things didn’t feel normal with the pregnancy, and I thought it was going to be bad news.
Having seen so many sonograms in my day, I could tell from the images on the screen that things weren’t right. There was absolutely no blood flow through the baby at all. The lady took multiple photos and then sweetly told me that I was right. Things weren’t right with the baby. The baby was gone, just some tissue remained.
Next I saw my doctor. She recommended a D&C since I hemorrhaged with my last miscarriage. So last week I went through the procedure again. My mom was here visiting, and she spent the day at the hospital with me while Jason took care of the kids. The procedure went well, and I was home by supper time.
It is so sad to lose another baby, but I have so much to be thankful for, every day that I have had with my five children for starters! I’m thankful for all those who prayed and sent encouraging words. Friends provided meals. I got to spend the day with my mom. And hey, I don’t even have much weight to lose. 😉
“In Christ alone my hope is found;
He is my light, my strength, my song;
This cornerstone, this solid ground,
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace,
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My comforter, my all in all—
Here in the love of Christ I stand.”