As I shared here, God put it on my heart to share our story of multiple miscarriages and secondary infertility. Today is the National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. So today, as I continue to share our story, I pray for anyone of you who has suffered loss.
Kevin and I were in Las Vegas with Luke when he was 2. My brother's family joined us. Their son Ethan and Luke are the same age and had so much fun playing by the pool, seeing the large aquarium in the hotel, and taking bubble baths together.
We went to see Mama Mia while my brother and his wife watched Luke and we did the same for them the following night. It was such a rare opportunity to hang with my hubby at the point of our lives.
During our time there, I noticed my stomach was upset. I just didn't feel right. I started to break out like I did in jr. high and when I was pregnant with Luke. I chalked it up to PMS and didn't think much about it.
When we got home, I continued to wait for my period as my PMS symptoms seemed to worsen. I was cranky, tired, breaking out even more, and was super bloated.
It finally dawned on me that I might be pregnant.
After taking several tests, which I have a bad habit of doing, it was confirmed that I was pregnant.
I was in disbelief. We were not opposed to having another baby, we were just going to wait. I was finishing up my school year as a first grade teacher and was about to transition to being a stay at home mama.
Although we were shocked, we were thrilled. We shared our news with our family and close friends. We asked for prayer since I have lupus and pregnancy is high-risk. We started writing lists of boy and girl names.
That's when things crashed.
Luke and I just arrived at my sister's house for a playdate. She also has a son Luke's age. As soon as I got there, I started to bleed. I panicked and ran to my car. As I was driving, I called my doctor. She told me to come in right away. There are benefits to being high-risk.
I prayed as I drove. I asked God to stop the bleeding. I begged for the baby to be protected. I prayed over and over again until I arrived at the doctor office.
I signed my name in and looked around the room at all the mamas to be. Some with big bellies. Some with early bellies. As I sat there glancing at their bellies full of life, I could still feel the trickle of blood coming from my body.
I was brought back almost immediately and was brought to the ultrasound room.
There I sat on the table, without Kevin by my side, as my doctor showed me on the screen that "the fetus has stopped progressing."
He told me in scientific terms what I already knew.
There was no life in my womb.
I listened as he routinely explained the possible causes and options. He suggested that I go home and wait for it to "expel" itself. I didn't ask any questions. I pretended to be strong. I didn't cry. I tried to agree that it was just nature's way when things weren't right and accept it as a scientific process.
I got in the car, though, and sobbed.
Through the shock and sadness, I was still trying to be strong. It was easier for me to look at it as something that just happens when there is something wrong with the development of the fetus than a loss of a baby.
I never let anyone know how truly devastated I was. I felt dramatic for reacting to something that was "common".
Instead, I put my energy towards getting pregnant again. After all, that is what strong people do. They pick up the pieces and move forward.
Little did I know then, that God was going to teach me that He is the only one to pick up our pieces and put them back together again.
*Please return for part 3 in a few days. Thank you for sharing my journey with me.